YPA: Your Privacy Assured/YPA.ISO/text/batgirl2.txt

Text File | 1995-03-09 | 47.5 KB | 1,169 lines

The Erotic Adventures of Batgirl, Pt. 2


The following is a work of erotic fiction and includes scenes
of consenting adults engaged in sexual activities. It includes
characters that are copyrighted by DC Comics. This story is
intended for the non-commerical enjoyment of the author and
his friends. No copyright infringement is intended and no
profit will be made from the distribution of this story.


Part Two

Batman Sees All



"Commissioner, you're here?" Bullock sounded unsure.

"Of course, I'm here," Commission James Gordon said as
Chief Detective Bullock walked into this office. "Where else
would I be?"

"But, Commissioner, the signal's on. I thought you'd be
upstairs on the roof."

"The signal's on. Why? I didn't authorize that." Gordon
jumped up from his seat. "Come on."

He and Bullock headed for the elevator. Moments later, the
elevator doors opened to the top floor of the Gotham City
Police Department Headquarters Building. They ran to the
stairwell that lead to the roof.

Gordon rushed though the door to the roof. Even as he first
pushed the door open, he could see the bright light from the
signal reflecting off the windows of the office building across
the street.

He and Bullock walked cautiously to the signal light.
"Batman," Gordon said, loudly. He spoke mostly to the air, but
expected an answer.

"He's not here. Yet." The voice was female. From behind the
signal's frame, a dark figure appeared.

"Batgirl?" Gordon asked, partially shielding his light from the
reflected glare of the powerful searchlight.

"Yes."

"What are you doing here? And why turn on the Bat-signal?"
Gordon used the slang term for the signal light. To most of the
Gotham City Police Department, "the signal" was all that was
required to signify which one they were talking about. Gordon
personally thought the "Bat" prefix attached by the media to
everything the Batman did or used was childish.

"I'm sorry, Commissioner," Batgirl said. "I would have asked
permission, but quite frankly I was hoping you wouldn't
notice."

"Wouldn't notice?!" Gordon said. "It lights up the damn sky
for hundreds of miles. Wouldn't notice! Humpf!" he snorted.

"Yeah, Batdoll," Bullock added. "Besides, in case you didn't
notice, this *is* Police Headquarters. You can't just *not*
expect us ta notice."

"I was hoping to speak to Batman privately," Batgirl started to
explain.

"In that case, I'm sure Detective Bullock wouldn't mind
leaving." The voice came from the dark. It was a dark voice,
deep and resonant. And when it come out of the dark like that,
it gave even Gordon chills.

"Batman," all three said at once.

They heard the knife switch of the light; a loud click. The light
went out, only a remnant of its incandescent arc continuing to
glow cherry red for a moment. From out of the dark, the
Dark Knight appeared, tall and looming. His long, black cape
covered him entirely; only the lower half of his face was
visible from under the mask and cowl.

"We can leave you alone," Gordon said.

"No, Jim, you stay." It was not a request, it was an order and
even the Police Commissioner obeyed orders from this man.
Jim Gordon had known Batman longer than anyone else in
Gotham and several times following Batman's orders had
saved his life.

"Chief," Gordon said, with a motion for Bullock to leave.
Grumbling to himself, Chief Detective Bullock stocked back to
the stairs.

After he was out of heading range, Batman turned to Batgirl.
He didn't say anything. He didn't have to; she had summoned
him after all.

Batgirl had hoped that Police Commissioner Gordon would
have left also. She was afraid that her voice would give her
away. Although she took efforts to disguise it, he was, after
all, the man that raised her. Her own father would surely
recognize his daughter's voice.

"I just wanted to share some information," Batgirl said.

"About Catwoman?" Batman asked.

How does he know? Batgirl wondered to herself. She was glad
for the darkness of the moonless night. She was sure the two
men could see her cheeks glowing bright red with
embarrassment. If only he knew, she thought to herself.
Knowing him, he does, she said to herself.

"Yes," Batgirl answered curtly.

"So it *was* Catwoman that hit the museum two nights ago,"
Gordon said. "You obviously didn't get her," he said to the
female crimefighter.

Depends on how you define "get," Daddy, Batgirl thought. She
wondered what her stern father would think if he knew not
only his innocent librarian of a daughter was Batgirl, but that
she'd also slept with and been fucked by Catwoman. And
enjoyed it. "Uh, no, not really," Batgirl said. "Batman, please,
I'd like to discuss this with you alone. You can fill the
Commissioner in on this later."

Something about her voice convinced him there truly was a
need for privacy. "Alright," he said. He turned and strode
quickly to the edge of the roof. Faster than Gordon or Batgirl
could hardly see, he pulled a small gun-type device from his
belt and fired into the night. A cable whipped from the device.
The hook on the end of the cable caught the edge of the
building across the street. Without so much as a word or
sound, he launched himself into the night.

"I'm sorry about using the signal," Batgirl told the
Commissioner. She too walked to the edge of the building.
She, however, had to throw her rope across manually. Then,
Batgirl too stepped off the edge of the roof and was gone into
the night.

The signal, Gordon thought. Only cops called it just "the
signal," he thought. And how had she known how to turn it
on? he wondered. The switch was hidden in a portion of the
frame.

Across the street, Batman waited for Batgirl to follow. He
didn't have to wait long. Although her equipment was not as
sophisticated as his, she was very nearly his equal when it
came to getting around the rooftops.

Alone, he said, "You had something to say to me that you
didn't want your father to hear." Once again, a statement, not
a question.

"You know, that really bugs me," she said. "You know
everything about me and I know nothing about you."

The silent figure in black didn't answer.

"Okay, okay," she said. "Yes, I didn't want my father to know
about my...encounter with Catwoman."

The pause in her voice was very slight, but Batman noticed it.
It was his job to notice little things like that. "That's a unique
way of phrasing that," Batman noted. "What happened?"

"I accidentally killed one of her cats," Batgirl told him. "It
really was an accident. The cat was going to have kittens. I felt
sorry for it and let my guard down."

"You've been sloppy before," Batman noted. Batgirl took that
comment as a direct reference to her allowing him to discover
her real identity. "Continue."

"She knocked me out."

"So that's how she escaped," Batman noted.

So, he doesn't know anymore. Everything up to now was just a
guess--detective work, Batgirl thought. "Well, not exactly,"
she admitted. "There's more to it than that. She took me back
to her...hideout."

"And you escaped."

"Eventually," Batgirl said. Well, if you consider walking out
the front door the next morning in a borrowed set of clothes
"escape," she thought.

"Why tell me all this?" Batman asked. "And why don't you
want Gordon to know?"

Batgirl paused. Here was the tricky part, she thought. I don't
want to give too much away. "She discovered who I am. She'd
seen my picture in the paper last week; the annual Police
Banquet. I was standing with my father and Bruce Wayne in
the picture."

"You're sure she recognized you?" he asked.

"Yes," Batgirl said. "But...I don't think it's as bad as it seems."

"Oh?"

"We spent some time together...talking. I think there's more to
Catwoman than you or I imagined. I think she'd go straight if
we gave her a chance." Batgirl knew she was going out on a
limb here, but she felt she owed it to Selina for killing her pet.

Batman considered the conversation for a moment. Batgirl,
although not quite in his league, had always been straight with
him before. Several times, she'd proven to be a worthy ally.
And Selina Kyle, the Catwoman, was not exactly your average
villain. She followed a strict code of honor, always a thief,
never a murderer. Batman knew for a fact that much of the
profits from her robberies was given to the poor though one
of the churches in a seedier part of Gotham. The same church
where her sister was a nun.

In his line of work, Batman encountered everyone from
fiendish killers like the Joker to noble and honorable men like
Superman and Commissioner Gordon. The only person he'd
never been able to figure out was Selina Kyle. Sometimes,
she'd do extremely noble things, other times, she'd steal
without remorse.

He remembered an article a couple years earlier, by Lois
Lane. It was a freelance article Lane had done with the man
who was now her fiance, Clark Kent. Even objective
journalists like Lane and Kent couldn't paint only a one-sided
picture of Selina Kyle. The other subjects of the article were
without redemption. But Catwoman came across in the article
like a modern day female Robin Hood.

And if any man could see through someone, it was Clark Kent,
Batman told himself. He was one of the few privy to the fact
that Kent was really Superman.

And now, Catwoman knew Batgirl's identity. He wondered
what price that would fetch, should she decide to fence it like
any other of her plunder. But, he admitted to himself, that sort
of information is very expensive. It extracts a toll higher than
most other things in life. He knew that himself, remembering
the piece of kryptonite that Kent had entrusted to him.

All these thoughts raced through Batman's mind. "Why do you
think she'll change?"

"She could have taken advantage of the situation more than she
did. It seemed to me that she is really just a lonely person in a
bad situation."

"She's never given any evidence before of going straight. Why
now?"

"Don't you ever consider that maybe there wouldn't be so
many criminals out there if you'd help them instead of always
hunting them down?" Batgirl said.

"Do you give your father the same speech?" Batman realized
he was being sarcastic, but sometimes she deserved it.

"Yes," she said definitely, "Every chance I get!"

Batman knew this was true. As Bruce Wayne, he'd dined with
the Gordons several times and had listened intently to
Barbara's young idealism. It possessed her to become Batgirl
and it possessed her to argue for what she thought was right.

"The only man in this whole God-forsaken city that seems to
care about making things better is Bruce Wayne. At least the
money he donates to charity buys something other than fancy
cable-guns!"

A lifetime of practice allowed Batman to keep a straight face.
He so desperately wanted to smile, just ever so slightly.

****

"What was all that about?" Gordon asked.

"I'm not quite sure," Batman answered.

Although he tried not to show it, Gordon was mildly
surprised. It always seemed that there were few things that
Batman didn't know. In those rare instances, Gordon couldn't
help but be surprised.

"She claims that Catwoman wants to go straight," the Dark
Knight explained. "Or, at least, would if given the chance."

"She stole three million dollars worth of gems from the
Gotham Natural History Museum two nights ago," Gordon
said. "Mighty funny way of 'going straight'."

"Yes. But if Batgirl is correct, it is worth pursuing."

"Well, I guess it would be. Catwoman's really more of just a
nuisance. I mean, when you compare her antics to the
Joker's..." Gordon didn't have to finish the sentence, Batman
was already gone. The shades of his open window fluttered
slightly from the Dark Knight's passing.

"I hate it when he does that," Gordon said to no one in
particular.

****

The lights in the cave snapped on as the car tripped the electric
eye at the entrance. Batman stopped the car on the turntable
and stepped from the large black vehicle. The news media
called it the "Batmobile," but to Batman it was simply one of
several cars he used.

Contrary to the initial impression that a cave would be wet and
cold, the cavern below Wayne Manor was dry and cool.
Portions of the cavern were blocked off to keep the rodents
and bats out. They just took too large of a toll on the electrical
equipment.

The main part of the cavern was open, with a vast array of
exercise and gymnastic equipment to one side and a fully
equipped garage on the other. Between the two was the thirty
foot turntable the car now rested on. Batman flipped a nearby
switch and the turntable slowly moved around. When it had
completed a half turn, the car was pointed to the entrance and
ready for a swift exit.

To the back of the main part of the cavern, a number of rooms
had been built. A long hallway lead from the cavern to a steel
door. The steel door lead to a short hallway, the walls of
which were also steel. At the end of that hallway was another
steel door, the stairs to the mansion above. Unless unique entry
codes were entered at both doors, they would lock and prevent
anyone from escaping. Only someone of Superman's strength
could possibly break out of the trap.

On either side of the long hallway there was a large office,
workshops, a computer room, a locker room (complete with
sauna, whirlpool bath, and massage table), a first aid station,
and various types of equipment storage.

Batman pulled the cowl and cape off and hung them in the
locker room. He then walked to his office. The office was
typical of what might be used by any Fortune 500 CEO. It was
lined with bookshelves and the centerpiece of the room was a
large custom built desk. The desk was mahogany and was
nearly twenty feet across. It was identical to the one in
Wayne's office at the Wayne Enterprises building. The only
difference between the two desks was that the one at Wayne
Enterprises didn't get used as much.

The desk in the cavern office was covered with books, three
computer terminals and piles of papers. Batman sat down in
the chair behind the desk and logged into his private computer
system. If the news media know of the computer's existence,
they surely would have dubbed it the "Batcomputer."

The computer system would be the envy of any large
corporation or scientific research facility. Due to the unique
nature of his requirements, the computer system was pieced
together from the various components that suited each need.
There was a IBM ES/9000 mainframe for heavy database
work and several DEC and HP minicomputers to handle
general administration and e-mail. A Silicon Graphics
workstation was also attached to the network, as well as a
smaller Cray supercomputer for heavy computational and
design needs. Various personal computers, including a number
of WayneTech prototypes, were scattered through the cavern.
Additionally, there was a newly installed desktop video
conference system.

All of Bruce Wayne's business e-mail was secretly routed to
the system here in the cavern. If he choose to, Wayne didn't
have to go to his Wayne Enterprises office at all. He could run
his entire empire right from this office. He used the office for
Wayne business only in the most dire emergency. He made
very certain that the two halves of his life didn't overlap too
much. But there were times when Bruce Wayne could do
things Batman could not. As an idea began to form in his
mind, Batman wondered if this might not be one of those
times.

Most of the time, Batman stayed very active. When he wasn't
out on patrol, he was in the office doing various types of
research or in the cavern gym working out. There were
certain times when just sitting down and thinking through a
problem was required. This was one of those times.

Batgirl wasn't quite herself, he thought. Not that she didn't
have every right to be out of sorts. One of Gotham's infamous
costumed criminals knew her secret identity. But she didn't
seem overly concerned about that, Batman thought. Why not?

He decided that he would have to have another talk with
Batgirl. He needed some answers to questions he didn't yet
know to ask. If that didn't work, he'd resort to plan B. If he
couldn't get anything as Batman, maybe Bruce Wayne could
find out more by other means.

****

Barbara Gordon kept a very busy schedule. She held down a
full-time job as head research librarian for the Gotham City
Public Library. She also spent a fair amount of time as
Batgirl. This, coupled with her workouts to stay in shape and
her social activities as the daughter of Gotham City's Police
Commissioner, kept her very busy. So as to not get too
frazzled by it all, Barbara allowed herself one night alone each
month. Tonight was that night.

She planned on a long hot shower to relax and then a quiet
evening reading a good book.

She stepped into the shower and began to rub a soapy
washcloth over her body. She felt the hot water pounding
down on her back and felt the tension begin to ease from her
body.

She finished washing and just stood there under the water,
letting the spray of hot water soothe her. Without thinking,
Barbara began to rub her hands over her naked breasts and
down her stomach. The hell with a good book, she thought, I
need a good fuck.

Then she began thinking about her encounter with Selina three
nights before. She still couldn't believe that she had spent the
night with a woman and actually enjoyed it. Every time she
thought about it, she began to tingle all over. It reminded her
of when she was a teenage girl and first learned to masturbate.
Once she discovered the joys that her body could give her, she
didn't want to do anything else.

Her experience with Selina seemed to have reawakened her
sexuality. She wondered what new experience she wanted to
try next.

Barbara decided that instead of staying home and reading,
she'd get dressed up and go out on the town for a change. She
so seldom went out by herself and it sounded like a fun thing
to do. Maybe dancing. With her sexy new hair style and the
right clothes, no one would know she was stuffy ol' Barbara
the librarian.

She turned off the shower and stepped out. She began to dry
off when she heard a noise from the living room of her
apartment. Was that the front door? she wondered. No, it
sounded more like the balcony door. Barbara wrapped a towel
around herself and opened the bathroom door.

"Daddy," she called. It wasn't like her father to drop in on her
like this, but he did have a key. Maybe she just didn't hear the
doorbell, what with the running water of the shower. And her
mind was preoccupied.

There was no answer. Maybe I was hearing things, she told
herself.

Barbara pulled the towel tighter around herself and held it
together with one hand above her breasts. She walked out of
the bathroom. She peered into the bedroom, but there was no
one there of course. She pattered in to the living room.

"Sorry to disturb you, Ms. Gordon."

Barbara was startled, but had half considered the possibility in
the back of her mind. "Batman," she said.

"I didn't realize you were showering," he said. "I can leave."

Barbara smiled at him. "No, that's okay." She walked into the
living room and nearer to him. He was standing near the
balcony. The sliding glass door was open and a mild breeze
caused both his cape and the curtains to flutter.

"What brings you to a single lady's apartment so late at night,"
she asked.

Batman eyed the woman. She was acting strange, he thought.
He had visited her apartment several times and she always took
it as business and was always brisk and to the point. Her short
red hair was still wet from the shower and was arranged
around her head in a tangle. She held the towel around herself
with one hand, but it seemed ready to fall at the slightest
movement. And the look in her eyes. It was a very
uncharacteristic smolder.

Bruce Wayne had known Barbara Gordon for a number of
years. They had met during her last year of high school. She
was visiting Gotham State University in preparation of
attending as a freshman the next year. Bruce was visiting as
part of an alumni committee. When he found out that the shy
little redhead was Commissioner Gordon's daughter, he had
volunteered to escort her around campus. They became social
friends, little more. As Bruce Wayne, he ran into her at
various social functions that she attended in the company of
her father. Years later, as Batman, he encountered her as
Batgirl and soon thereafter discovered her identity.

Never in all that time, as either Bruce Wayne or Batman, had
he seen that look in Barbara Gordon's eyes.

"I wanted to discuss Catwoman," he said. He noticed that the
towel seemed to be edging lower. Her face and upper chest
was bright pink. The effects of a hot shower, he figured. Or a
case of sexual flush, he wondered. Why was she acting such
the tease?

"We can sit and talk." Barbara motioned for the couch and
easy chair.

Batman made no move. He preferred to stand, ready to leave
if necessary. Barbara half turned and moved toward the couch.
As she did, the towel fell open. She let it drop to the floor.

Batman looked at her as she stared dreamily into his eyes. Her
breasts were fully exposed and heaving with each breath. As
was common with redheads, her upper chest and shoulders
were lightly dotted with freckles. He darted his eyes to the
side. She sighed and slowly bent over to pick up the towel.
"Silly me," she said. As she bent over, she pivoted on one foot
and rolled her hips. At full bend, her ass pointed directly at
the tall, dark clad figure.

Batman looked at Barbara again. He could see the glow of her
pale white skin, moist from the shower. She hadn't finished
drying off, he realized. He could see her breasts hanging
forward has she bent over. Between her legs, he saw an
inviting flash of red hair. Although he displayed no outward
shock or even recognition of her actions, under his cowl, a
bead of sweat rolled down the back of his neck.

If Batman *thought* Batgirl had acted out of character the
night before, he was *sure* that Barbara Gordon was acting
out of character now. Was she trying to seduce him, he
wondered. What could possibly make her act this way?

Barbara Gordon finished picking up the towel and slowly
wrapped it loosely around herself. She sat down on the couch
and pulled the towel from under herself, draping it across her
breasts and lap.

Batman moved to stand behind the easy chair. From this
position he faced her directly.

"Exactly why do you think Catwoman is ready to reform?" he
asked.

"I don't know for sure," Barbara said. The shrug of her
shoulders threatened to cause the towel to fall again. "It's just a
feeling I have."

"Exactly what happened?" he asked.

"We...talked," she said.

Again the pause, he noticed. There is something about that
encounter that she doesn't want me to know about, Batman
told himself. "And."

"And, she seemed to open up." As she said that, Barbara
Gordon opened her legs slightly, almost unconsciously. The
towel still covered her lap, but if she opened the her legs much
further, the gap would afford him a view of her crotch.

This is going nowhere, Batman thought. Actually, it's going
somewhere I'd rather not go. Batgirl was usually very
forthcoming with information about her crimefighting.
Tonight, all that was forthcoming was a very blatant and
sexual proposition.

"She said she wanted to go straight?" he asked.

"Not in so many words," she answered. Barbara ran her left
hand through her damp hair. As she lifted her arm, the towel
threatened to fall again. She put her right hand to her chest to
catch the towel. "It was more something that I felt from her.
She seemed...lonely. I think being an outlaw has made her a
lonely person and she wants to live a normal life now."

"Do you think she'd be willing to met me?" Batman asked. "To
talk," he added quickly.

"Maybe," Barbara said. She moved the fingers of her right
hand slightly, a gentle caressing motion over her breast. "I
don't know."

"The next time you see her, tell her I'm interested in talking
with her. If she agrees to talk and returns the gems, I'll refrain
from taking her in." He moved toward the balcony.

"I don't know when I'll see her again," Barbara said. She
started to get up, the towel falling again.

Batman already had his back turned and was heading out the
balcony door. "But you will," he said.

"Yes," Barbara agreed. But he was gone. She stood in her
living room, naked and with damp hair. God, he makes me
horny, she thought.

****

The next day, Barbara Gordon was working at the reference
desk of the library when two surprises happened. She was
filling in on the reference desk for a sick co-worker when a
messenger brought her an invitation to a party at Bruce
Wayne's the following night. This seemed unusual, she was
normally invited with her father to Wayne's parties. But this
invitation was especially addressed to Ms. Barbara Gordon and
guest.

Not more than a half hour after the invitation arrived, the
second surprise showed up. Barbara was busy helping a young
high school girl look up a reference in a science journal when
she turned back to the desk and found Selina standing there.

"Hello," Selina said.

"Hi," Barbara stammered. She was beginning to feel really
inadequate, what with Selina and Batman continually sneaking
up on her.

"I was in the neighborhood and thought we could go for
lunch," Selina said.

Selina stood in front of the reference desk. She was wearing a
white silk blouse and blue jeans. The white blouse contrasted
her black hair. The jeans were tight and fashionable, sure to
turn every man's head. But dressed like this, she didn't look
like Catwoman.

"Well, I guess," Barbara said. She wasn't sure about Selina's
motives, but she figured a polite conversation over lunch in a
public place couldn't hurt anything. And maybe she could feel
Selina out on the idea of meeting with Batman.

****

The cafe served the best espresso in Gotham and had outside
seating. It was another hot and humid day, but the shade of the
umbrellas on the tables helped.

To the casual passersby, the two woman appeared to be old
friends. If someone had happened to overhear their
conversation, they would only have heard things that women
normally talk about. The topic eventually turned to men.

"I saw an old friend last night," Barbara said.

"Oh," Selina said. "Which one?"

"The tall, dark gentleman," Barbara told her. "I was just
getting out of the shower. He didn't want to stay."

Selina rolled her eyes. "He has the willpower of a saint.
Believe me, I've tried."

"No luck?"

"Apparently none better than you had last night. Are you
willing to share him?"

"Ha!" Barbara laughed. "I'd love to. But I'd guess neither one
of us is going to get that lucky."

"So why did he stop by?"

"He wants to talk to you."

"Seriously?"

"Yes." Barbara leaned forward so one one could hear. To
anyone watching the scene, it appeared like she was telling her
girlfriend a secret. "I've got him convinced that you're not
such a bad person. He promised not to take you in if you'll
meet him and talk. And return the gems to the museum."

"Maybe, I'll have to think about it."

Barbara looked at Selina. The look in Selina's eyes was hard to
read, a strange mixture of melancholy and promise. Like
Barbara, she was a lonely person and wanted to fit in
somewhere. Maybe now was the time for a change in her life.

"Well, while you're thinking about it, how about coming to a
party?"

****

Bruce Wayne had a reputation for being a rich kid that
inherited a great deal of money and then struck it big in the
computer software market. But his reputation also included the
fact that he gave great parties!

Bruce walked down the stairs. Some early guests had already
shown up. He checked his bow tie in the mirror on the
landing. Everything looked fine. He was in a tux. A bit
overdressed by the look of things, he told himself as he looked
over the guests.

As much as Bruce disliked mixing his two lives, there were
times when they were necessary. After the fiasco in Barbara
Gordon's apartment, he resorted to plan B. A party. Not just
any party, but a major blowout. Most of the parties he hosted
were fundraisers for some worthy cause or another, but this
was simply a party for the sake of a party. At least that's what
everyone attending thought.

For Bruce, this was the opportunity to wear his best disguise
(that of a rich playboy) and observe close up one of his guests.
Barbara Gordon was at the top of the guest list. Although she
didn't know it, the whole party was especially for her.

Bruce had specifically instructed Alfred, his butler and
confident, *not* to invite Commissioner Gordon. No, this time
the party guests were younger, wilder. This was no political
fundraiser, no need for the old fogeys to get in the way.

He walked out into the main hallway of the mansion. He smiled
at the guests as he walked past. A few words of chatting here
and there. Like everything else he did, he played the host
perfectly.

Bruce found Alfred in the kitchen. "Has everything been taken
care of?"

"Yes, Master Bruce." Although Bruce was fully grown, Alfred
was still in the habit of addressing his employer as he had
when the two first met, those long years ago when Alfred first
came to Wayne Manor to serve Bruce's parents. The young
Bruce Wayne had taken an instant attachment to the butler and
the butler has taken an attachment to the inquisitive youngster.

"One of the waiters from the service called in sick, but aside
from that everything is in order," Alfred reported.

"Good." Bruce pulled the older man aside. "Alfred, I now how
much you hate these parties, but make sure *everyone* has a
very good time."

"Of course, Sir. I wouldn't have it any other way."

"And, if I'm not around when she arrives, please find me and
let me know when Ms. Gordon gets here."

"Ms. Gordon, Sir? Isn't she just a bit young for you?"

"Alfred, I think she may be in a bit of trouble. I'd just like to
keep an eye on her."

"Oh, yes, of course Master Bruce. I understand." There was
that tone to Alfred's voice that told Bruce he understood that it
was "Batman business."

Bruce wandered back into the party. The mansion was large
and most of it was never used. Bruce tended to use mostly the
"downstairs addition," as Alfred referred to the cavern, and
had little use for the twelve other bedrooms. But, the large
number of accommodations did come in handy for guests that
indulged too much.

A short while later, he found himself talking to some young
starlet, Bambi she called herself. She was trying to talk him
into financing her next film. Alfred tapped his shoulder
discreetly and whispered into his ear with a calm voice. "Ms.
Gordon and her lady friend just arrived, Sir."

"Lady friend?" Bruce whispered back. The starlet hadn't
noticed that Bruce's attention had been diverted and continued
to drone on about how great this new script was and how the
movie would be her big break into comedy.

"A Ms. Kyle, I believe, Sir. Selina Kyle."

Bruce had to restrain himself from stiffening. Catwoman,
here, at my party, he thought. What power does she possess
over Barbara? he wondered. "Thank you, Alfred," he said
calmly.

"Please excuse me," he told the starlet.

"But, Brucie, I haven't told you who's going to direct," the
starlet pleaded.

Bruce kissed her and said, "We'll discuss your movie later.
I'm sure I can scrounge up the support. I've wanted to branch
Wayne Enteprises into movies anyway."

The commitment made the starlet very happy and she was
content to let Bruce off the hook. Before he had walked more
than twenty paces, she had already turned her attention to
another male guest.

Bruce found Barbara Gordon and Selina Kyle standing beside
the buffet. Barbara looked stunning in a very short, knit
minidress. The dark green color set off her red hair and
matched her own green eyes. Although he was able to keep his
objectivity, Bruce was also able to acknowledge that her long,
bare legs and supple figure made her look quite desirable; no
less desirable than the night before.

Her companion was equally attractive. Selina Kyle was dressed
in a simple, but elegant black minidress.  Her raven hair
flowed freely about her shoulders and her dark eyes seemed to
sparkle. Her legs were even longer than Barbara's, Bruce
noticed. Hard to believe that she was Catwoman, he thought.
But then the catsuit didn't show this much skin. Both woman
were getting their fair share of looks from the other guests.

"Babs," Bruce said cheerfully, "Can this vision of loveliness be
my favorite librarian?"

Barbara Gordon turned to her host. "Bruce," she said, a
brilliant smile gracing her face. "Daddy says hi."

"Tell your father I send him my best." Bruce turned to look at
Barbara's guest. He had a playboy image to live up to after all,
so it wouldn't hurt for him to stare at a beautiful woman. "I
don't believe we've met," he said, knowing full well that it was
a lie.

"Bruce, this is my new friend Selina," Barbara introduced
them.

"Selina," he repeated. "What an exotic and beautiful name for
such a beautiful woman. You're not one of those dreadful
feminists, now are you? You don't mind if I tell you that
you're beautiful?"

Selina smiled. It was a perfectly wonderful smile and perfectly
practiced. "Mr. Wayne, I never mind when the richest man in
America tells me anything."

"Well now, I'm not exactly the richest..." he shrugged. "I
think Bill Gates and Lex Luther are richer. I don't know. I
never bother counting the stuff. I'll have to ask my accountant
the next time I see him."

The three laughed.

****

Bruce spent the remainder of the evening mingling with the
guests. He moved masterfully around the room, making sure
that everyone was happy and having a good time. With
practiced skill, he managed to move around the party in such a
way that he kept Barbara and Selina in sight most of the
evening.

Barbara Gordon was dressed a bit more revealing than what
he thought she normally dressed, but aside from that, he
couldn't decide exactly what was wrong. She mingled also. She
knew many of the people at the party from other functions that
she had attended, functions that were either fund raisers for
the library or political gatherings that she would have attended
with her father.

Selina Kyle did likewise. She didn't appear to be casing the
mansion, although for Catwoman, it would have been a perfect
target.

When the two women were together, Bruce noticed that they
were acting like two very good friends. They giggled together
and whispered in each other's ears. They sometimes touched
each other's shoulders or arm as they moved through the party
guests. Bruce couldn't quite pin down what was wrong. He was
convinced that Barbara was acting unusual and that Selina,
Catwoman, was responsible. But he couldn't figure it out.

He noticed that both women spent a fair amount of time
dancing. This was to the obvious delight of most the male
guests. Between the two women, they danced with almost
every man there. Once, they even pulled poor Alfred onto the
dance floor and tried to get the reserved butler to dance with
both of them at once. Alfred held his dignity intact and
politely excused himself from the festivities.

Is it just possible they've become good friends, Bruce
wondered. He tried to image himself in a similar situation. He
couldn't picture inviting the Joker, Killer Croc, and Two-Face
over to the mansion to watch Sunday afternoon football. He
had already dismissed drugs or mind control, it just wasn't
Catwoman's modus operandi.

Late in the evening, Bruce went into the kitchen to speak with
Alfred about accommodating some of the more inebriated
guests for the night. Alfred informed him that several of the
guests had already taken the liberty of claiming some of the
bedrooms. The look on the Englishman's face was of quiet
resolve in the face of great anguish. Bruce shrugged off the
issue; it wasn't the first time he'd had a party where couples
had stuck upstairs to make love in the plush Victorian
bedrooms.

When he reappeared in the main hall, he scouted the room for
Barbara or Selina. He didn't see either. Bruce quietly asked
one of the waiters if he had seen them. The waiter knew
exactly which two ladies Bruce was referring to. "They went
upstairs a few moments ago," the waiter said. "With Bob
Jones, I think. Lucky guy."

Bruce thanked the waiter and dismissed him.

Bob Jones was the Gotham Giant's home run king. Like many
other baseball greats before him, Jones had a reputation of
striking it big with the ladies as well as with the bat. Both of
them? Bruce wondered. How good of friends have they
become? He decided he almost didn't want to know.

****

Being Batman was inherently voyeuristic. He spent many
hours stalking across the rooftops of Gotham City, looking for
criminals. Sometimes, he had to hide in the shadows, watching
and waiting. Just as the stakeout was part of police work, so
too was it part of being Batman.

In the years he had been Batman, Bruce Wayne had seen many
things while watching and waiting. He had lost count of how
many times he'd seen a prostitute perform oral sex in the front
seat of the customer's car. Or walk into an alley with a john
for a quick, up-against-the-wall screw.

At first, he had thought to chronical the sexual exploits he
witnessed, but since most of the time it was purely incidental
to his mission, he decided not to.

As he swung from building to building or climbed across the
rooftops, he was often privy to scenes from people's private
lives. He'd seen couples (and more) making love, he'd seen
singles (men and women) masturbating. Nearly every
combination of love-making and raw, nasty sex, he'd witnessed
in some form or another.

There were several times, he'd been able to catch his prey only
because they were engaged in the act. These times he did note
in his crime journals, particularly when the sex act was deviant
enough to possibly provide clues to the criminal's
psychological makeup. Batman would never forget the time he
busted into the Joker's hideout and found the Clown Prince of
Crime bound and gagged while his female cohort, Harley
Quinn, was stroking his penis with a feather.

Now, as Bruce walked back into the kitchen, he wondered
about the ramifications of what he was about to do. The
mansion had been originally built in Victorian times, and had
many hidden secrets, not the least of which was the cavern
below the grounds. The mansion was laced with passages and
all of the bedrooms upstairs had peepholes and one-way
mirrors. Bruce had never figured out the original purpose for
this, and never resorted to using them.

But now, he seemed to have a need for just that sort of thing.
He needed to know exactly what the relationship between
Barbara and Selina was and how far it went.

He entered the passageway though the secret door at the back
of the pantry. He slipped off his shoes and quietly climbed the
stairs. The upstairs hallway ran the length of the mansion. On
either side of the hallway where six bedrooms, with each
bedroom opening out into it's own balcony. The passageway
twisted and turned, allowing access to the common wall
between each bedroom.

Bruce quietly walked from room to room. He had covered all
of the original peep holes, but had not replaced the original
one-way mirrors. A small cut-out behind each of the guilt-
edged mirrors allowed a view into the room. Due to the light
difference between the room and the pitch-black passageway,
there was little chance of a person discovering that they were
being watched.

Several of the rooms were empty and several hosted sleeping
guests, drunk to the world. Other rooms were indeed being
used for sexual activity. It was in the fourth room of this
nature that Bruce recognized Selina Kyle sitting on the bed.

Bruce slowed his breath and peered through the mirror. As
distasteful as he found this, he also felt a tingle in his loins. It
was the thought of seeing Barbara Gordon again that ran
through his mind. He had resisted the temptations of Barbara
Gordon's naked body the night before, but now, watching
unseen, caused him to become excited.

Selina was sitting on the edge of the bed and was unzipping her
dress. She pulled it down and her large round breasts fell out.
On the bed beside her, Jones laid back with Barbara on top of
him. They were kissing. Selina stood up and pulled the dress
down. She was wearing a very small pair of thong panties.
With a dress that tight, she'd have needed something very
skimpy to avoid panty-lines.

She climbed onto the bed and laid next to the couple. Barbara
lifted her head and Selina kissed Jones. Bob Jones held both
women in his hands. He rubbed his large hands up and down
the backs of both women.

After a few moments, Barbara, still dressed, slid down and
unbuckled Bob's belt. She then slowly, teasingly, slid down his
zipper. Selina and Bob stopped kissing for a moment and
watched the "unveiling." Barbara fumbled for a moment and
then Jones' erection popped up into her face.

It was at this point that Bruce realized that he could hear every
word in the room. The wall behind the mirror must have been
thinner than he thought. Both woman make comments about
"it's as big as a baseball bat," and giggled. Bob Jones was
obviously revelling in the attention of the beautiful women.

The night before, when he had been in Barbara's apartment as
Batman, Bruce had not gotten an erection. The supporter and
athletic cup he wore as part of his costume applied just enough
of the wrong type of pressure to prevent it. Now, wearing just
briefs and a pair of pants, he was not prevented from getting
hard. The thought of Barbara Gordon, sweet, innocent
Barbara Gordon, sucking a large dick made his own start to
swell.

Barbara played with the man's penis for several minutes,
bringing it to its full size. Bruce had been around enough to
know that Jones' was on the large side, but not nearly as big as
some other men he'd seen. In fact, the Joker was larger, Bruce
thought. Unbidden, the image of the Joker's gastly white cock
sprung into his mind.

By this time, Bob Jones had one of Selina's breasts in his face
and was sucking on her nipple. Her breasts were large, but
very firm. From his vantage point, Bruce could not see any
scars. He wondered if she was just naturally firm. Her nipples
were large, with fairly small, dark areolas. The nipples looked
even bigger than they probably were because they were
extremely erect.

Barbara bent over Jones' crotch and began to lick the end of
his dick. She unconsciously brushed her hair back, obviously
not yet used to the short haircut. The look on Jones' face was
one of absolute bliss; a large tit in his face and a redhead
sucking his dick.

Selina got up and moved down to Bob's crotch. She motioned
Barbara away and took his dick into her own mouth. Barbara
took that as the opportunity to get undressed. She slid out of
the dark green minidress and her panties in one quick
movement. She then straddled Bob's face and pushed her red
haired pussy onto his mouth.

Bob Jones was known throughout Major League Baseball for
never giving up until the last man was struck out. He'd lead the
Giant's to several come-from-behind victories for the league
pennant several seasons in a row. What he couldn't do was
stand up to the sexual ministrations of these two beautiful
women. His come shot into Selina's mouth. She moved her
head back away from his penis and ended up with some of it
on her face.

As soon as he came, he pushed a very reluctant Barbara off his
face. Mumbling something about "game tomorrow," he
grabbed his clothes and headed for the adjoining bathroom.

Selina and Barbara looked at each other in amusement and
disappointment. Bruce continued to watch from the
passageway. Barbara moved over to Selina. Then, she leaned
forward and licked the come from Selina's face. When she had
finished licking it off, she and Selina embraced and kissed.

So that's it, Bruce said to himself, bewildered by the thought.
He first considered that Selina had "enslaved" Barbara, but
dismissed the idea. She was acting unlike herself, but Barbara
was most definitely *not* being told what to do or being
forced into it in any apparent way.

The shock of seeing the two women kissing and touching,
combined with the potential problems this arrangement could
cause, wilted Bruce's erection. His mind sprang into action,
pondering the various options before him. His own sexual
needs and desires fell away under the logical and precise mind
of the Batman.

He walked quietly down the passageway and back to the
pantry. He put his shoes back on and adjusted his pants, just in
case. Alfred looked at him curiously when he stepped from the
pantry. He knew that he'd have to explain it to the butler at
some point, but he also knew that Alfred would wait patiently.

Bruce walked back into the party and waited. He continued to
play host, but the hour was late and the crowd had dwindled.
Bob Jones came down from upstairs, a slightly guilty look on
his face. No one in the room seemed to notice as he walked
across the room to Bruce. "Well, Bruce, ol' buddy, thanks for
a great party."

"Leaving so soon?"

"Have a big game tomorrow," Jones said.

"Slug one out of the park for me," Bruce said to the
ballplayer.

"Sure."

Bruce turned his attention back to the party. Several minutes
later, Barbara and Selina quietly came downstairs. Barbara
noticed Bruce watching them. She blushed deep red. She had
hoped that no one would have noticed their little visit upstairs
with the home run king.

She and Selina began to mingle with the few remaining guests.
Bruce walked over to the two ladies. "Did you a good time?"
he asked.

Barbara blushed even darker. "The party, I mean," Bruce said.
"Alfred really went all out planning it on short notice." He
pretended not to notice Barbara's embarassment

"Yes," Barbara said. "It was very nice."

"Why, yes, Mr. Wayne," Selina said. "I enjoyed myself a great
deal." As she said this, she shifted her evening bag in her
hands. Bruce was half tempted to see if she'd taken anything.
He reminded himself to ask Alfred to count the silver
tomorrow.

"Thank you for inviting us," Barbara said. She then leaned up
and gave Bruce a kiss. Not the friendly social kiss they usually
shared, but a french kiss. Bruce was caught totally by surprise.
It was the same sort of kiss he had just seen the women share
upstairs. He recovered his composure quick enough to rub his
tongue against the younger woman's tongue as she thrusted it
into his mouth.

Barbara broke the kiss. Selina said, "Yes, thank you." And she
too gave him an open mouthed french kiss. She did more than
just press her tongue into his mouth. She took his tongue into
her mouth and sucked it slightly, running her tongue back and
forth across the tip of his. Just like a blow job. Just like the
blow job she'd just given Bob Jones.

She finally broke off the kiss. Bruce was absolutely stunned.
He simply stood there and looked at both women. Barbara
leaned forward again and said, "Please don't tell my father.
He'd kill me if he knew I kissed you like that."

"Uh, right," was all Bruce could say as he watched the women
walk across the floor and out the front entry way.

"I dare say he would," Alfred said quietly, coming up from
behind Bruce. "Did you learn what you wanted?"

"More. Far more than I wanted," Bruce admitted.



End of part 2.