Batman And Batgirl free porn video

Batman and Batgirl By Alana I anxiously paced back and forth, scarcely believing I was in the world famous Batcave, taking in the sights, in awe of the incredible high tech crime-fighting equipment. I was waiting for Batman to make his decision, but I already knew what it would be. I was going to be his partner! Me, Dick Grayson, partner to the coolest crime-fighter the world had ever known! Batman came into view. He was carrying a garment I didn't recognize. "You may not like this," he said. "I've decided to accept you as my partner." "Great, Batman! That's incredible!" "I haven't said all. This is your costume." He held it up for me to see. I couldn't believe it. I stared at it slack-jawed. He had to be kidding, but there was no trace of irony in his grim, determined features. He was holding a red satin dress with a green cape. The curvilinear bat symbol was on the belt of the dress. I could barely think what to say. "You're kidding." "I never kid, Dick. If you're to be my partner, you're to take the identity of Batgirl. That's the deal." "Batgirl! Batgirl! But why?" "Because it just might save your life. A hardened criminal wouldn't think twice about hitting or even shooting a young boy who attacked him, but he'd never be able to hit a girl. Especially a girl who took pains to act and dress as feminine as possible." "But I can't dress like a girl!" "Then you can't be my partner. I'm sorry, Dick, but I've made my decision. I need a partner who can accept my orders and obey them without question. Your life will depend on it." "But--- but--- no one would ever think I'm a girl!" "With a mask and a wig and the right make-up, I'm sure you can pass for a girl, provided you act as feminine as possible at all times." "But I can't!" "Very well. Get in the Batmobile. I'll take you back." "Wait!" He waited. I stared at the dress. I couldn't believe what he was asking me to do. Maybe it was just a test. Whatever it was, I couldn't turn down a chance to fight crime with the great Batman. I was so full of anger at the criminals who had killed my parents. But I still couldn't believe what he was asking me to do. "I'll do it," I said. "Good. Let's see how you look in your dress." "Wait, you promised to reveal your identity to me, first." "Later. First you need to strip." I took off my clothes while Batman left to get something. When he came back I was standing in my underwear. "Strip naked," he said. Oh, no. Oh, no. He was holding in his arms what looked like silky lingerie. He couldn't expect me to wear that. "No--- please--- I can't---" "Fine. Put on your clothes and get in the Batmobile." It's just a test. I was praying and hoping that Batman was just testing the limits of my obedience. Without another word I took off my underwear and stood before him naked. He handed me a pair of white satin panties. I couldn't even look at him as I put them on; I was so ashamed. Next came the pantyhose. I had no problem getting them on. They were not much different from the tights I wore in the circus. Next came a feminine, lacy panty girdle. Just looking at it made me want to throw up. But I swallowed my disgust and put it on. I looked at Batman. There was no change in his features. I just couldn't believe he wanted me to fight crime in a dress. Next came a bra with just a little bit of padding. Batman explained how to put it on, and told me I'd have to hook it up myself from now on. Then he handed me the worst piece of underwear yet. A petticoat. A petticoat! It wasn't enough I had to wear a dress; I had to wear a stupid petticoat under it, to make the skirt stand out stiffly! "Batman, how did you happen to have all this lingerie laying around?" "I sent out an order to a department store from the Batcomputer in the Batmobile. They rush delivery, for a price. Now put on your dress." I put on the stupid dress, with the stupid skirt floating out over my stupid petticoat. Batman gave me some comfortable slippers to wear. Then he put a blonde wig on me, and started putting a light coating of lipstick on my lips and mascara on my eyelashes. I felt numb. I couldn't believe he was doing this to me. I couldn't believe I was letting him. But whatever he did, he did with the same grim, determined expression. The only cool part of the costume was the mask, which was red and had two peaks, like batwings. Finally he was done. He took me to a full-length mirror so I could see what I looked like, even though I didn't want to see. We stood before the mirror and he put one hand on my shoulder. I kept looking down, but finally I lifted my eyes and took a look at the crimefighting team of Batman and Batgirl. The worse part was, I did look enough like a girl to pass. A girl in a red satin dress with a frilly white petticoat just barely peaking out from the edge of the skirt. "What do you think?" "Batman, you're not really going to make me dress like a girl to fight crime, are you?" "It's up to you. Don't worry; you'll get used to wearing a dress." I sighed and looked away from the mirror and up at Batman. He was such a cool crimefighter and I admired him so much, but I couldn't believe he was asking me to do this. "And now it's time to reveal my identity," he said. He reached for his cowl, but hesitated. "There are only a few people in all the world who know this secret. You must promise never to reveal who I really am." "Don't worry; I'm not going to do much bragging about the fact that I'm Batgirl." He took off his cowl. He was Bruce Wayne! I couldn't believe it. All of Gotham thought him a spoiled, rich playboy, and he was actually the Batman! If they only knew. He changed out of his uniform and into regular clothes, and I got to take off the stupid dress and put on my clothes. We went upstairs and I got to check out Wayne manor and meet Alfred, his butler. Man, this wasn't going to be too bad, living like this! Alfred unpacked my suitcase, and I went to sleep in my own pajamas in a nice, comfortable bed. Compared to circus life, this was heaven. But when I woke up I had to face the grim reality of having to dress like a girl, again. I slipped into my Batgirl dress, and Batman put me through the first phase of my training, teaching me martial arts, showing me how to disable an enemy. That part was great, but then he had to start teaching me how to act like a damn girl! How to sit in a dress, how to walk, how to talk, how to curtsey, how to put on my own make-up, how to keep my movements feminine. I still kept hoping he'd relent and wouldn't make me be Batgirl, but I practiced everything he showed me without question. It took six months of training before he decided I was ready to accompany him out on patrol. On the night of Batgirl's debut I checked out my appearance in the full- length mirror. My make-up was perfect. A girl of my age couldn't wear a lot of make-up, but what I could wear was applied very carefully. My wig was securely pinned and glued in place. I tugged down my skirt to make sure my petticoat wasn't showing, and adjusted a bra strap. I knew I had to act feminine and girly so no one would know I was a boy, so I practiced one of the moves Batman showed me, doing a little half-twirl before the mirror, going back and forth and making my full skirt swirl about my legs. "You look okay," said Batman, never generous with compliments. I looked at him with pleading in my mascaraed eyes. "Please don't make me do this." "You kept telling me you were ready for patrol." "You know what I mean. This dress, this wig--- I look stupid." "You look like a girl." "That's what I mean." "Are you going to whine and complain all night about wearing a dress, or are you ready to fight crime?" Without waiting for an answer, he turned and raced to the Batmobile. I was right behind him. He leaped right in without bothering to open the door. I marveled that he didn't get his cape caught. Of course I had to leap right into the seat next to him the same way, and I almost got my skirt caught on the door, but I cleared it at the last second. I barely got my seatbelt on as the Batmobile sped into action. We didn't have to patrol very long. A midnight break-in a jewelry store made Batman screech the Batmobile to a halt. We were facing four masked men running to their car. "You know what to do," said the Batman. I unfastened my seatbelt and hit the ejector switch. It propelled me into the air toward the men. I tried to tuck and roll the way I did in the circus, but I'd never done it while wearing a dress. It was difficult for me to grab my legs. I couldn't even SEE my legs with all those damn petticoats. But somehow I managed to land where I intended, which was right in the chest of one of the thugs. "What the--- it's just a girl!" one of them said. "Hold it right there, toots," said another, holding a gun on me. It was pointed right at my heart. But Batman said they'd never have the heart to shoot a girl, and I believed him. I charged right at the felon with the gun, I grabbed the lapels of his coat and yanked myself up and kneed him right in the groin. He doubled over in pain. Girl or not, I then punched him in the face as hard as I could. Remembering that I was supposed to act all cute and feminine, I giggled girlishly and said in my female voice, "Just a girl, huh?" This made them mad. One of them grabbed me, and I used my judo to send him sprawling. Another took a swing at me with a blackjack, but I easily avoided him. I climbed on the back of the biggest of the four and got him in a sleeper hold. He tried to shake me off, but I hung on. This was going so great! I thought that I was going to take them all on myself, and I would impress Batman so much that he'd forget all about making me wear dresses. But then one of them grabbed my skirt and lifted me off the big goon, and the next thing I knew I was hanging in the air from the top of a chain link fence. I twisted and turned and tried to free myself, but the top of the fence was entangled in my lace petticoat. And then the Batman charged into the scene, and it was all over. He was like a black tornado, here, there, and everywhere, and before I could get free he'd dispatched the thugs and put them in Batcuffs. "Give 'em one for me, Batman!" I yelled, but still in my girly voice. Batman called the authorities on a police call box. He freed me, and did it without even tearing the lace on my petticoat. I was mad, and I didn't say a word as we sped away from the scene. "You did okay," he said. "I did not! Why do you make me wear a dress, anyway? If I hadn't been wearing this damn dress---" "Batgirl, what did I tell you about cursing?" "It's not ladylike." "That's right. Remember that. You did okay. If I was the one who attacked them, they never would've stayed to fight. They would've jumped in the car and made their getaway. You attacked their pride. They were upset that a girl was beating them up, and they refused to run away from the fight. You did okay. You delayed them long enough for me to take over." "Yeah. Fine," I said. But one day, I thought, one day I'm gonna be good enough to take on a dozen thugs like them without any help from you, Batman. And when that happens, my days of wearing dresses and petticoats and lipstick will be over. No more Batman and Batgirl. From then on, it'll be Batman and Batboy. No, not Batboy, that sounds stupid. Batman and Nightwing, Yeah, that's a cool name. Batman and Nightwing. I made my public debut as Batgirl about a week later. We got a tip that the Joker was going to pull some malicious mischief at a boat show, and we swung into action to stop him. I stopped a couple of his thugs by myself, and I didn't let anyone grab my skirt this time or make a fool of me. When it was over everyone at the boat show applauded. The Batman smiled and waved graciously. He'd taught me that a superhero must accept the thanks of the grateful public with magnanimity when it's offered. But I just wanted to get out of there. I was embarrassed to be there, and I was afraid everyone could tell I was a boy in a dress. "Curtsey!" Batman hissed at me. "Aw, Batman---" "You're a girl! Curtsey!" I sighed. Then I grabbed my skirt, smiled sweetly and dropped a sweet little curtsey for everyone, hoping it was girly enough for the Batman. Flashbulbs popped, and of course that was the photo that wound up in the Gotham Gazette. The accompanying article called Batgirl dynamic and athletic, but also said that I was pretty and sweet and feminine. At least no one suspected I wasn't a girl. Over the years Batman and I took down a lot of criminals, but I kept getting kidnapped and Batman kept having to rescue me. I hated that. Once Catwoman had me suspended upside down over a cage of vicious killer jungle cats, my skirt and petticoat drooping to reveal my lingerie to all her snickering henchmen. I was glad Batman made me wear that tight panty girdle, so no one could tell I wasn't a girl. As I struggled I kept hoping and praying that my wig wouldn't come unglued. Once, when the Penguin had me tied up, one of his henchmen started making eyes at me. When all the others had left he'd show up and tell me I was pretty, and ask me if I'd ever kissed a man before. I said no, and I squirmed away from him as he came closer and closer, that onion breath of his making my stomach churn. My hands were tied behind my back, and if my feet hadn't been tied I would've given him a knee to the groin so fast it would've dropped him like a sack of potatoes. If the Batman had only managed to burst through that window a minute sooner I wouldn't have had to feel that thug's disgusting lips on mine. When the Batman finally untied me, I wiped my mouth in disgust. "Don't smear your lipstick, Batgirl." "He kissed me!" "I know." I ran over to the thug and kicked him and hit him, but he was already unconscious. When Batman finally got me to the Batmobile, I was practically in tears. "Fix your lipstick, Batgirl." "The heck with my lipstick! And the heck with my stupid dress and my stupid wig and my bra and pantyhose and everything else I'm wearing! Why do you make me dress like a girl? I hate it! I hate it! Why can't I dress like a boy? Why do I have to keep wearing dresses all the time?" Batman didn't relent. But he did come up with some gimmicks for me to use to protect myself. Once, when the Riddler and his men had captured me and were going to tie me up, I asked, "Does anyone mind if I put on a little lipstick?" The men snickered and said they didn't mind. I took my "lipstick" out of my utility purse and opened it. Tendrils of wire snaked out and wrapped themselves around the Riddler, and I took advantage of the confusion to escape. When I became a teenager, Batman finally let me stop wearing the stupid petticoat, but I had to wear a slip and I had to pad my bra a little bit more. But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was the high heels. When I complained, Batman pointed out that every superheroine from Black Canary to Supergirl wore high heels. I said that at least they wore high-heeled boots and not pumps, but Batman said that I was just going to have to get used to them and learn to run in them. They were only two-inch heels, but they hurt me so much I was almost ready to give up. But I was getting better and better. It had been a long time since the Joker or the Penguin or Catwoman had managed to kidnap me, and I felt sure that soon Batman would let me stop dressing like a girl. It was so confusing being a boy at school and a girl by night. At school I was always scared to death that I'd forgotten to take off some of my make-up, and more than once I sat down and mistakenly tucked my non-existent skirt beneath me. I was scared to death that I'd make some mistake and reveal my secret identity, like wearing panties to school instead of my regular underwear on a gym day. After a night of fighting crime as Batgirl, I'd slip out of my dress and unhook my bra and take off my girdle, and I'd see the red marks left on my skin by my lingerie. I was always scared to death they'd still be there by the time I got to school. I'd check, sometimes, in the boy's bathroom before I went to gym class, and fortunately the evidence of my nighttime femininity was always gone in time. Sometimes I tried to make Batman think that I liked wearing dresses. I thought it might make him worry about my sanity, but of course he's the world's greatest detective and he saw right through my scheme. I started by wandering about Wayne Manor during the weekend in just my slip, bra, pantyhose, and a pantygirdle. I put on my make-up, but no wig. "Dick, what are you doing in your slip?" he asked. "Was there a call from the Commissioner?" I touched my lacy ivory satin slip. "No. I just like it," I said. "It's my favorite slip." "I see." He didn't look worried, so I showed him a mail-order catalog of dresses I'd been looking through. "What do you think, Bruce? Wouldn't I look cute in this dress?" "Sure. So you want to wear dresses all the time, now?" "Isn't that what you want? You've spent years trying to make a girl of me." He took the catalog from me, and agreed that I would look darling in that dress. "What say we go buy it this afternoon?" "I was thinking we could just order it." "No, you'd better try it on. Make sure it fits." "But--- but--- how will I--- I mean--- the only dress I have is my Batgirl costume." "Put it on. There's no reason Batman and Batgirl can't shop for a new dress. Unless you'd rather try on dresses as Dick Grayson." So we wound up in front of the Gotham City Better Dresses Boutique in the Batmobile, attracting a lot of attention as we always did. He was calling my bluff and I was calling his bluff. I kept intending to go through with it, but finally I just couldn't. "Ready to go?" he asked. "No." "No? Why not?" I looked around, and whispered as softly as I could, "Because I'm a boy, that's why." "No need to whisper. I have us under Bat-Silence. No one can hear us." "Then let's go home." "So, you've changed your mind about wearing dresses full- time?" "Yes. Let's go." I was sullen on the way back. I might as well have gone in there and tried on a dress. There was hardly anything I hadn't done in a dress in the past few years. I even had to dance with a young male movie star at a charity ball that we attended as Batman and Batgirl. He asked me out, right there on the dance floor, but I told him that superheroines don't date. When I was sixteen years old, we had an interplanetary adventure that involved a number of other superheroes. A couple of planets were threatening war, and the Justice League traveled out there to keep the peace. There were so many powerful heroes, like Superman, Green Lantern, the Flash, Wonder Woman, but they all deferred to Batman as if he were the General of the troops. I'd never met Superman before. He was one of my favorite heroes, second only to Batman of course, and I'm afraid I was a little overcome with hero worship. Trouble was I had to keep acting cute and feminine all the time we were there, so I think it must've seemed a little bit like I was flirting with him. Wonder Woman brought Wonder Girl with her. She was about my age, and we hung out a lot together. She was gorgeous. Half the time I was with her I kept wishing I could tell her I was a boy, the other half I spent praying she would never find out. At one point, I remember she headed into the woman's bathroom, and she asked me if I had a tampon. I laconically reached into my utility purse and handed her one. Batman always made sure I was equipped with everything I needed to convince anyone I was a girl. She looked at it, and then looked at me, and giggled. "I can't believe a sixteen-year-old boy in a dress has a tampon in his purse," she said. And she was gone. I stared at the door of the bathroom, my eyes bulging wide open and my lipsticked mouth formed into a large O. When she came back out I whispered, "You know? You know I'm a boy?" There were some aliens passing by us, so she took me to a secure location where we could talk. When we were alone, she said, "Of course I know! We superheroes have no secrets from each other. Didn't Batman tell you? All the superheroes know about you. We all think you make a very cute girl." "Well, then why'd you ask me for a tampon?" "Oh, I was just kidding. I had no idea you'd actually have one. You're really prepared." Later, I was complaining to Batman as we were getting ready for bed. For secrecy's sake, we always had to sleep in our costumes. But at least we could take off our boots and capes. Except that I wasn't wearing boots. I still had to walk around in those damn high-heeled pumps. "Why did you have to tell them?" I whined. "You can trust them. They all know my secret identity." "You could've at least let me know that they know. I've been acting all prissy and feminine around Superman. I can't imagine what he must think of me." "He's used to young boys worshipping him." "Did he say anything about me?" "He said he thought you were very pretty." "Great! Just great!" I took off my pumps and wiggled my toes, and rubbed my aching feet. I held up one shoe and pointed it at him. "Wonder Woman wears boots," I said. "Wonder Girl wears boots. Why can't I wear boots?" "We'll talk about it when we get back to earth," he said, and clicked off the light. From that point on, it seemed that Wonder Girl never stopped making fun of me. She was probably making fun of me before, but I never noticed because I thought she thought I was a girl. She had this way of saying BatGIRL, always putting the GIRL part in quotes. Never letting me forget that she knew I'm just a boy who wears dresses. "Better be careful there, BatGIRL. Don't trip on your high heels, BatGIRL" "Your slip is showing, BatGIRL." "Careful you don't get a run in your pantyhose, BatGIRL." I just fumed and seethed and didn't say anything, even when she playfully snapped my bra strap. They only trusted us to deal with one aspect of the campaign. There was a special weapons component being hidden in a cave that we needed to grab from the enemy. The cave had only one-armed guard, so we were trusted to take a shuttlecraft down to the surface of the planet and steal the device. It was a wet, muddy planet. Just getting to the cave, I got mud all over my high heels and all over my pantyhose. Wonder Girl kept mocking me. The guard was a six-foot tall brute with purple skin, armed with a laser rifle. We spied on him from behind a small hill. "I'll handle this," said Wonder Girl. "You might get your dress dirty. Stay here and fix your make-up. I'll be back in a minute. Do you need to borrow my lipstick?" This made me so mad I leapt over the hill and charged the guard, not even thinking what I was doing. He wasn't paying attention, but by the time he knew what was happening, I had my Bat-a-rang and my Batline out of my utility purse. He leveled his laser rifle at me, but before he could fire a shot I tossed the Bat-a-rang right at the rifle. It snagged his weapon, and I yanked it down just as he fired. The shot missed me completely. I braced myself, and yanked the rifle right out of his hands. I continued running at him. As I ran, I started hiking up my skirt and my slip. I knew I had to do it, for what I was planning, and I knew that it would afford Wonder Girl a nice view of my pantygirdle, but I had no choice. I leapt at the guard, climbed up his body and onto his shoulders, wrapped my legs around his neck and squeezed hard. The guard kept trying to pull me off. Then he tried to knock me off of his shoulders, slamming me against the wall of the cave, but I held on. Finally he passed out. I turned to Wonder Girl. "It's okay to come out, now," I said. She came out from behind the hill, and we went into the cave to get the component we needed. On the way back, she said, "Nice job, Batgirl." And finally the mocking tone was gone from her voice. She didn't mock me any more. I was encouraged by this, and when we were back aboard the spacecraft, just before the mission was over and we were about to head back to earth, I asked her out. She looked at me like she couldn't believe it, then burst out laughing. "You and me? On a date?" She laughed again. "What'll we do, shop for dresses together? Give each other make-overs?" "I meant in our civilian identities." "What, you mean you don't wear dresses, lipstick and nylons as Dick Grayson? I can't believe that. How could you ever cover up those pretty legs?" I walked away from her. She put one hand on my shoulder to stop me. "I'm sorry," she said. "I know you're a brave and talented superhero, or superheroine or whatever you are. But get real. Look at yourself. How can I date a boy who walks around wearing dresses half the time? Whenever I saw you in pants I'd always be wondering what you had on underneath. Even when you were Dick Grayson I'd still be picturing you as Batgirl, in your red satin dress and nylons and high heels. I'm sorry." "Yeah," I said. "okay." And that was the last I ever saw of Wonder Girl. When I turned eighteen I gave Batman an ultimatum. I said I refused to dress like a girl any more. I wanted to be Nightwing. I wanted to wear a man's costume. And if I couldn't, then I wouldn't fight crime any more. Simple as that. He thought about it, then he offered me a deal. Egghead and Olga had escaped from prison, and with the help of their Cossacks had managed to steal a vat of priceless frozen caviar. He knew where they were hiding out. If I could arrest them myself, then that would be my last official act as Batgirl, and I would become Nightwing. You can just bet I took him up on it! I sped out to their hideout on my Batgirl-cycle. I spotted Egghead out front, grabbed him and forced him to take me to their door. I heard him announcing to Olga and the Cossacks, "I brought a special guest with me this evening. Batgirl!" But I had already sneaked around to the back entrance, and I got the drop on the Cossacks. Everything was going well until Olga threw some fish eggs right under my feet. I slipped and fell to the ground and hit my head. When I woke up I had my hands tied behind my back, and the Cossacks were forcing me to my feet. "And now, my little pipkin, you will do for us, the sabredance! With frosted swords!" The Cossacks pulled their frozen swords from the barrel of ice, and they surrounded me. One of them jabbed his sword at my legs, and I leapt to avoid it. More of them started jabbing, and I had no choice but to keep dancing and leaping. Sometimes the swords would strike my legs, and it hurt, even though they were covered in ice. I knew that when the ice melted, the swords would be slicing up a lot more than my pantyhose. They would be slicing my legs. I kept dancing for my life, wondering how I was going to escape. I couldn't believe that this was how it was all going to end for me. All I ever wanted to do was fight crime and get back at the criminal element of this world, and now here I was, a boy in a red satin dress, dancing myself into exhaustion with my hands tied behind my back, my skirt flipping up and my slip showing with every humiliating step I took. And then the Batman appeared. He plowed right into the Cossacks. I was so glad to see him, I forgot all about how much I hated him for making me wear dresses. I got out of his way. There wasn't much I could do with my hands tied behind my back, but I shouted out, "Give 'em one for me, Batman!" The next thing I knew, Egghead was picking me up and carrying me toward the vat of caviar. I squirmed and struggled in his arms, but to no avail. "We are drowning her in caviar!" shouted Olga, and Egghead dropped me into the vat and pushed me under. "Help! Batman, I'm drowning!" I yelled. "I'm also freezing!" While Batman ran over to get me out, it gave Egghead and Olga and the Cossacks plenty of time to escape. Batman pulled me out of the vat and untied me. I looked down at my dress. The icky, gooey, slimy fish eggs were all over me. All over my dress, my nylons, my hair. They'd even gotten into my shoes and my lacy silk lingerie. I wiped myself off as best I could. I looked at Batman, miserably. I felt like crying. "I'm sorry," I said. "Come on, Batgirl, let's get out of here." On the way back to the Batcave, I asked Batman, "How did you know I was in trouble?" "I slipped a Batbug into your purse. I was listening in." "So you didn't think I'd be successful?" "Better safe than sorry. I'm sorry, Batgirl. I was really hoping you'd succeed. But a deal's a deal. If you want to fight crime with me, you'll have to remain Batgirl." "Couldn't I at least wear a jumpsuit, like Wonder Girl?" "I'm afraid a tight jumpsuit would reveal the fact that you're not female. You'll just have to wear the dress you've got on. I'm sorry. I'll understand if you want to quit." I looked down at my dress. "I can't quit," I said. "Any more than you could. As long as there are criminals who make ordinary decent citizens live in fear, I can never quit. Even though it's humiliating, even though I have to wear a dress and pantyhose and a bra and a girdle and make-up and high heels, even though I'm constantly scared to death everyone will find out I'm a boy, I can't turn my back on this city. Gotham needs Batman and Batgirl." "Good girl," he said. I took a lipstick out of my utility purse and freshened my make-up. Well, why not? I'm a girl. But not just any girl. I'm Batgirl. THE END