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The True-False Tits of Batgirl!
20:02, 2017/4/17

The True-False Tits of Batgirl

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"You Too, Batman!?" by Chelsea Kent
03:01, 2017/9/19

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?We're not exactly day people, to say the least. I still get the feeling someone will recognize me, even in my Batgirl costume. But l guess the reality is that Daddy's a politician as well as a cop, and letting the public know what we're doing helps all around. Besides, it lets the bad guys know he? He's standing firm against this crazy rogue's gallery of criminals in Gotham.


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 in his hideout while I was 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'd say. I have no idea who Batman and Robin are under their masks, and I don't think they know who I am, but I hope to find out their identities one day. 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-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 has 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 all my life, of course, so I hope he can't see through the mask and costume.

Daddy is reading to the media from a prepared statement, 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. Your little Boy Wonder, too-he likes to sneak peeks at my rear end under my cape; I'll use every feminine wile I have to get both your identities.

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 lifts 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-OMIGOD! 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 try to back flip over his head but he throws me back down onto the floor. I push back up and drive backwards into him with a body block. He is big, heavy-he's got me now and knows it. I see a slight smile across his mouth. He pulls my mask, and again I yank my head hard and away.


The mask slips from his grip again. The mask slaps back onto my face with a loud pop. The right eye hole is on my forehead instead of my eye, half of my face is showing! I make eye contact with Robin. I am trying to look tough and determined but I know he sees through me. He has a puzzled look on his face. I am only twenty-two, alone against the world right now, did I bite off more than I can chew with this Batgirl idea? Will the Joker come after me if I'm exposed? I scream as loud as I can, I am raging mad now, struggling to free myself. My voice is a shrill shriek as I scream in defiant anger at the mocking news people, some of them smiling, some looking in stunned horror at me.


"Damn you, all of you!"  I yell,  "Let me go, Batman! A man cocks his head trying to peek under my mask. Men will peek at anything. Daddy looks bewildered, uncertain what to do. Batman is supposed to be an ally, but he trusts Batman's judgment over my shrill cries at the moment.


"BATMAN, STOP THIS NOW" I am still screaming at him but he won't stop.


"NO, BATMAN-MY MASK, DON'T UNMASK ME!"  I plead. I pick my chin up over his arm. I put my lips near his chin, toward his ear. I am whispering, begging as I let him feel my lips on his chin.


"Please don't do this, please. I'll do anything you want-anything.  I press my bosom into his arm as I say it, pushing my stiff, excited nipples into his bicep. I lower my voice and moan in the sexiest voice I can muster in the situation. He tightens his grip on me.


"Aieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!" I scream angrily in his ear now.  "YOU BASTARD!" My voice is shrill and loud. The media are eating this up. They love it. Cameras are flashing everywhere. Shutters are clicking madly. The crush of reporters and newscasters are noisy and pushing closer in toward Batman and me. They want a peach shot of my face.

Looks like they're about to get it, too. The Joker is sure to come after me now. No peace from here on out. I'll get you for this, you pointy-eared...


A forty-something woman is upset.  "Oh dear God, the poor girl, somebody help her"


A man is crowing at me, peering over his glasses, mocking me.


I recognize him-a columnist against the whole Bat-vigilante thing in Gotham. "Arright," he says, "let's have a look, baby! Yes!" Video is surely zooming in on me. This is a live news conference. CNN. ABC. CBS. All of he majors. Batman always draws the big media were ever he goes. The whole world is watching my humiliation. It will be on all the evening newscasts and talk shows for days-weeks, maybe months.


Batman deftly grabs my mask's errant eye flap. The reporters yell out like a crowd just witnessing a long jumper sink through in a basketball game. He tugs upward and lifts the mask, but again I lift my neck up and tuck my head back into the cowl. He's getting frustrated with what should be a simple thing, pulling off my mask. He rips the mask when he pulls it, my right ear is exposed, and my red hair-so carefully pinned and tucked into the cowl-is falling from around my ear in sections. I feel the earring I forgot to remove this morning bounce against my neck. The noisy room grows louder but there is a sudden hush, a strange swell of silence falls over them. The mask is badly torn and hanging, the flap revealing half my face-more red hair falls, this time from my forelock on top of my head. I hear the earring fall and tap to the floor. The mask is torn away from my ear to the top of my head. It's barely attached to my face now. He grabs the torn flap of the cowl and pulls it, stretching it.


Dead silence now. All eyes are on my face. I let out a loud groaning wail that cuts through the quiet.  "NO, NO NO!!"  Tears stream down my face.


I see the inside of the mask stretch-I see through one eye hole of the mask, the people out there-like looking at them through an inverted telescope. The mask gives an even noisier pop than before. I jerk and twist violently in his grip. A loud "thwack!" peppers my ears, the mask is ripped away and my face is exposed in public!


"Barbara, my God, it's Barbara Gordon,  someone yells.


I've been unmasked in front of the whole world! He tosses me to the floor. My eyes are popping wide open and my mouth feels locked open, too.


"OH MY GOD, NO!" I scream. My hands instinctively go to my face, I am crying and yelling at the same time. I feel like an electric shock has gone through me. I'm stunned, my bare face is wide-eyed in amazement. They all react like a ringside press corps snapping photos of a fallen boxing champion. I feel defeated-and naked. I'm so exposed, no cowl to hide behind now.


The photographers are yelling and jockeying for position around me as they snap pictures of my exposed secret identity in a mad frenzy. Microphones in my face. I'm on my back unmasked on the floor and some of the media are stepping on me. I cry 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 me. I hear him yell my name. Secret's out. It's over now.


I get up and lunge after Batman but he sidesteps me. I reach for his pointed bat-ears and I grab one of them. My destroyed cowl is flapping under my chin in the breeze created by my fast movements.


"Take it off, damn you!"  I have his cowl ear in my hand. I crush the ear. He grabs my wrist but I clench the cowl ear tightly and pull with all my might. People are grabbing me, trying to hold me back but I am too enraged to be stopped. Robin is holding me back, using it as an excuse to put his hands on my chest. This has become absurd. I feel like I'm on the Jerry Springer Show. The bat-ear tears off in my hand, exposing his black hair and ear-I feel immediately guilty, I stammer and stutter, my emotions flood in-this is the Batman, after all-I put my hand on my mouth, tears rush into my eyes, I'm hyper-ventilating. I almost apologize to him-I nearly hand the ear back to him, but I sink to the floor in tears, my hands in my face, as I sob openly. Batman leaves by way of the window.


I raise up on the bed and wake up in a cold sweat. I am breathing heavily.


I toss the covers aside and sit on the edge of the bed. I get up and walk to the kitchen for a glass of warm milk.  "It was so real," I say aloud. I look over at my Bat mask, left on the couch from last night's outing.


At least catching the Joker was real. So is Batman and Robin's jealousy at beating them to the punch.


I'll have to be more careful with the cowl. I take it and put it on its' stand in the compartment behind the bookcase. I make sure the bookcase compartment is locked. I sit on the couch and sip the milk, drinking in a deep sense of relief. A secret identity worth having is well worth preserving.


END

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Superheroine art blog link...
14:54, 2015/3/26

http://superheroineart.blogbugs.org/

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