Batgirl’s Consternation

The beating she had taken once her own Bat-cuffs had rendered her helpless had kept Batgirl quiet while young Ma Parker and her minions had strung her up. Once the wine had begun spilling, she was torn between trying to delay the gang in hopes the police would intercede and attempting to effect her escape. Now, Batgirl had been left alone to die and she would, in a matter of minutes, unless she could get out of this predicament. Time was of the essence.

The first step was to cut the weight dangling from her wrists. Its purpose was to keep her body hanging straight and still. As long as the weight remained in place, she had no hope of release.

Her gloves held a sharp blade similar to the one in her boot. Fortunately, she was able to move her fingers to the hilt of the blade tucked in her glove.

In order to go on living, Batgirl could not panic.

Despite her string of successful escapes from certain death, not panicking wasn’t as easy as it sounded. Wine was falling all around her, splashing every inch of her body, soaking her costume to the saturation point and streaming along her sensual sinews. She had been drenched to the skin in seconds and began to shiver involuntarily. She could feel the lower edge of her cape first float and then submerge as the shaft filled quickly beneath her.

Before she took the blade from its sheath, she took a deep breath and hoped her cloth-covered, involuntarily quivering, wine-smeared fingers could keep hold of it. The tiny sliver of metal was her link to life. If she dropped it, she could see no reason to expect to survive.

Slowly, the blade came free of the sheath. She turned it in her hand and slid the knife back and forth with exaggerated deliberation against the taut chord from which the weight was suspended. Strands of rope separated as the blade bit deeper and deeper into the rope. Then the weight fell, splashing below Batgirl.

She could move! With a delighted chuckle, Batgirl put her blade away. As her head tilted toward the ceiling, wine fell on her face, instantly blinding her and making her cough. She shook her head and moaned in response to the sudden blood-rush. The now-Burgundy Beauty closed her eyes and reached for her utility belt again. As her shoulder brushed the side of the shaft, she realized her task was far from finished. The wine had reached the level of the hair on her wig hanging from the back of her cowl.

She felt for the compartment on her belt containing the keys to her Batcuffs——literally the keys to freedom. The important thing would be to keep them from slipping through her fingers and falling into the wine below. Again, that eventuality would seal her doom.

She held her right hand beneath the compartment and opened it with her left. The keys dropped into her hand. Batgirl wrapped her fingers tightly around them. Once she was certain she would retain control of the keys, she carefully passed them back and forth to get the proper grip. She moved her hands to the level of her eyes.

The ease with which her senses had adapted to this strange environment was surprising. The sound of spilling wine drowned out any other noise that might have been audible in the cellars of the Royal Mushroom Club. Her skin was drenched with wine and sweat. These odors permeated the surroundings. She shivered periodically. As she inhaled, some of the falling wine inevitably touched her tongue, allowing her to taste the Amontillado. Contrary to her earlier quotation of Bela Lugosi, she knew enough to concede that it was an excellent vintage. Just enough light filtered into the shaft to allow her to faintly see the lock on her Batcuffs as the key slid home and turned. The wine reached the top of her head as one of the Batcuffs fell from her wrist.

Keeping the key in her fingers was her most important task now. She began to swing gently, using her hands to keep herself from smashing into the walls of the shaft. Once she felt her butt hitting the wall at one end of an arc, she bent her body at the waist to position her upper body parallel to the surface of the wine below. She was not even half way there when she encountered the opposite wall. In a moment of horrifying clarity, Batgirl realized the shaft was too narrow for her plan to work. Worse, the shaft was square. If she rotated herself and tried the same maneuver once she was perpendicular to her current position, she knew that maneuver would be no more effective.

Her spirits sank like a stone. This was it. She was quite definitely going to die.

Batgirl let her body relax. Her head splashed into the wine below. She quivered with cold and felt her fist close absently around the key.

She quickly pulled her head from the wine, coughing. "No!" she shouted as her eyes began to tear. "I won’t die like this!"

Desperately, she clenched every muscle in her body and pulled herself fiercely upward. As the strength these titanic efforts required ebbed from her muscles, she realized something significant. She had bent her knees. For reasons that were not clear, Batgirl began to laugh. The tension drained from her body in a matter of seconds. She was shaking uncontrollably and descending back down the shaft. The soaked sentinel realized the shaft had filled to the level of her breasts before she pulled her head above the level of the lethal liquid once again. She coughed and lifted herself another time with her legs. Then she reached with her left hand for the Batrope from which she was suspended. Her fingers were mere inches away.

"I’m not dead yet, Ma Parker," she said triumphantly. Batgirl leaned forward from the waist yet again. This time she succeeded in grabbing hold of her rope! Then she was able to reach the lock of the Batcuffs shackling her ankles with her free hand and unlock them with the key.

Once her ankle was free from the bracelet, she tossed the key from the shaft. She then let her lower body fall, impacting the wine beneath her with a splash. She reached her free hand up to grip the Batrope. Now, her rope was her means of obtaining freedom instead of the instrument of her destruction. She pulled herself upward, hand over hand, until she was able to swing clear of the shaft and drop. Safely on the floor, she retrieved her keys and freed her ankle and wrist from her Batcuffs.

At this point, Batgirl became aware of a banging against the door. She looked up in time to see it splinter inward as two police officers burst into the wine cellar.

"Diana!" Batgirl said, quickly recognizing the female officer. Policewoman Diana Mooney had become Batgirl’s friend when the officer rescued the heroine from one of Batgirl’s closest calls ever, a Siamese Human Knot variation in which Batgirl had been the only human. Predictably, feminist fanatic Nora Clavicle had devised this particularly heinous death for her nemesis.

Policewoman Mooney had earlier distinguished herself on an undercover assignment in which she had infiltrated Catwoman’s gang. She had subsequently come to her superiors’ attention when she tried to have them arrested while under the influence of Black Widow’s brain short circuiting device, wielded by the villainess’s nephew, Archie Arcane.

"Batgirl, are you all right?" Policewoman Mooney asked.

"She looks all right to me," her partner observed.

Both women realized Batgirl’s body-hugging costume, now soaked beyond the saturation point, fit even more snugly than usual to her fabulous figure, leaving little, if anything, to the imagination. "Shut up, Zebrowski," they said simultaneously.

"I didn't know you knew me, Batgirl," Officer Zebrowski said.

"You just transferred in from St. Louis on temporary assignment under the Police Exchange Program," Batgirl said. "I understand you are with the Regional Preternatural Investigative Team, which handles cases reminiscent of the X-Files."

"That's what we tell the press," Officer Zebrowski said, grinning. "How do you know I was involved with them?"

"It’s my business to know. And to answer Policewoman Mooney’s question, I’m fine now. Thanks for asking. What happened to Ma Parker?"

"I didn’t see her. I recognized her daughter, Legs, as the gang leader, though," Policewoman Mooney said.

"Legs Parker is now a single mother. So she is Ma Parker and her mother is Grandma Parker," Batgirl explained.

"Oh, okay.” Policewoman Mooney went on, “She and the people with her shot their way past us and shouted something about our only having seconds to find you before you died."

"So they got away?" Batgirl said, disappointedly.

"I’m afraid so," Officer Zebrowski said. "We have the chef they left behind to question, but I doubt he’ll be much help."

"They didn’t kidnap the chef?" Batgirl asked.

"I think we came up on them a little faster then they had planned," Policewoman Mooney said.

"Nice work. I think it’s time I take a more proactive approach," Batgirl said, gathering her Batrope and grappling hook.

"What do you mean?" Policewoman Mooney asked.

"Ma Parker stole my utility belt and has been using my gadgets against me. I’m tired of it. What she doesn’t know is, I have a homing beacon I can track in the belt buckle. I’d have done it already, but she’s been keeping me rather busy."

"If you’ll forgive my noticing, I see you’re wearing a belt," Officer Zebrowski said.

"My backup," Batgirl explained. "Each belt has a means of tracking the other. This situation was inevitable."

"Your plan might work," Officer Zebrowski said.

"Hopefully," Batgirl agreed. "Time I got on with it."

"Good luck."

"Yes," Policewoman Mooney agreed. "Good luck."

"Thank you both," Batgirl said.

The drive to the secret freight elevator at Barbara Gordon’s Midtown apartment was rough on her tortured body, as well as almost unbearably cold. She parked, reversed Batgirl’s tantalizing transformation, and enjoyed a long, steamy shower. Her final task was to make arrangements to anonymously wash and repair her Batgirl costume. It was her day off, fortunately, and she had no plans to speak of. She dressed for bed, crawled in, and fell asleep after only a few seconds.

Barbara awoke refreshed. She prepared herself for battle with a routine of stretching, followed by a cold shower. She ate in a robe and changed into a clean, intact, Batgirl costume.

She hit the streets and took three readings on her belt homing device. "Good. She’s staying put so far this evening," Batgirl remarked, "because I’m coming." Indeed, the hunt was on.

This ride on the Batgirl cycle was much smoother. Sleep had done her battered, bruised body a world of good. She sped through town, a picture of purple pulchritude, with her red hair and cape whipping in the wind behind her. She was enjoying herself now. She felt good. The feeling of cold air caressing her body as she drove was nothing short of exhilarating. Her mind was clear and focused on her task. Her body was loose. Despite the beating she had taken the previous day, she had banished fear. She was ready.

Batgirl’s signal led her north from Midtown on South Gotham Island. She made her way to North Gotham Island as dusk fell. Once the sun had set completely, she realized she was bound for Park Row, the most infamous slum in Gotham City, better known to the world as Crime Alley.

"I should have known Ma Parker would try to lead a criminal renaissance from here. Time to shut it down."

Batgirl dismounted and made her way to the tenement Ma Parker had selected as her base. She studied the front of the building and Batclimbed up one side to the roof. Once there, the Dark Angel of Gotham turned her attention to a door she guessed would lead to a central stairwell. "The lock won’t be a problem," she murmured. Then her hand froze as she reached for the tools at her hip. "That alarm system looks state of the art."

Batgirl backed away and cautiously examined the other obvious avenues of entry. They were secure. She moved to one corner and looked at the back of the building critically. She spotted an open window and Batclimbed down to it. "Good, I can get in the easy way."

Batgirl slipped into the darkened room like a shadow. She briefly let her tiny Batlight play over the bedroom. The covers on the bed were rumpled. A red shirt hung from each bedpost and a white painter’s cap hung atop one of them. Batgirl’s sharp eyes also spotted a long strand of blond hair nestled in a pillow. "No sign of criminal activity here," Batgirl whispered as she moved soundlessly to the door.

She heard no sound beyond the door and slipped into the dark hall. Batgirl found a pale blue ribbon entwined with more blond hair and a cat-eared, black hat among the pillows on the bed in the next room she explored. "It seems Ms. Parker has been a busy queen bee," she murmured.

Batgirl flitted to the stairs like a ghost and her descent was betrayed by barely a creak. She paused on the lower landing to listen. A giggle sounded from far below her. Batgirl moved on. She followed the sound to the arched entrance to a corridor leading to Ma Parker’s audience chamber. She paused to listen.

Ma Parker was holding court. She had brushed out her hair so it cascaded around her shoulders like golden waves rippling against the oversized pullover shirt that flowed across her chest into her lap, where the excess material piled atop the bare thighs her shorts showed off. She was speaking. "All right, people. I’ve examined the take from yesterday’s good work and reviewed the probing interviews I conducted overnight."

Batgirl felt heat rising within her. "Probing interviews!” she muttered softly. "If this is the basis of Ms. Parker’s decision, she’s unfit for marriage as well as motherhood."

Ma Parker continued. "I’m very close to making my decision about which one of you to marry."

"Who will it be?" Bolt asked loudly.

"It won’t be you, if you interrupt me again, Bolt," the luscious gang leader replied.

Undine viciously dug her fingernails into his shoulder.

"Not to worry, Ma Parker," Batgirl said, striding into the room. "I’m here to make sure your nuptials go nowhere. All of you are under arrest."

"Impossible," Maty Dee said, stepping toward the heroine as his mouth opened incredulously.

"Batgirl survived," Chickadee said frowning. "How?"

"That’s my secret, Chickadee."

Ma Parker stared at the purple vision who had rudely become the focus of her audience chamber. "This is becoming so tiresome!

"Well, Batgirl, as long as you’re here, I suppose we’d better do something about your continued survival. Boyfriends, get her!"

As Ma Parker’s men moved to the attack and the women retreated to positions against Ma Parker’s dais, Batgirl took the initiative. She took three running strides and leapt to deliver a shattering showgirl kick to Bolt’s chin The tall thug went down, sprawling away from the fight and remaining quite still.

When she landed, Spade and CB came at her from either side. She spun toward CB and hit him in the nose with a straight punch. Spade closed in from behind as Batgirl pressed her attack against CB. At the last second, Batgirl ducked under Spade’s punch, which finished off CB. Spade quickly recovered and gave the off-balance Batgirl a shove toward his remaining cohorts.

Ma Parker clapped her hands excitedly as Batgirl plunged into French Freddy the Fence. The two of them went down in a tangle of arms and legs.

Matey Dee approached the writhing pair cautiously and got a few sharp kicks in at Batgirl’s exposed ribs. French Freddy realized he and the other men had the advantage and began concentrating on keeping Batgirl’s arms occupied and the not unpleasant task of having her body on top of his. He wanted to roll her face up, so his partners could better batter her, but was willing to settle for what he could reasonably accomplish.

Pain wracked the Dominoed Dare Doll as Ma Parker’s men went to work on her back and sides. She squirmed, trying to free herself from French Freddy’s grip, without success. As she discerned her enemies’ strategy, she began to try to position her body so the blows she could not avoid impacted less vulnerable spots. Eventually, however, she could do little more than grit her teeth. She closed her eyes and let herself relax as the beating continued. If she didn’t do something right away the fight would be lost.

Batgirl pulled her knees to her chest and opened her eyes. Her peripheral vision revealed Matey Dee looming over her, preparing to unleash another deluge of blows. As her enemy leaned in, Batgirl shot her heels at his groin. He doubled over and flew backward. When he landed, he was out of the fight.

Spade’s arms encircled her legs and Batgirl sensed the thug step over French Freddy’s supine body. She realized the pair was about to twist her into a human pretzel. She reached upward and rammed both elbows downward decisively. French Freddy grunted. Then Batgirl pulled her chin into her chest and threw her head back, hard. French Freddy’s head cracked against the floor and the grip on her arms slackened.

Spade realized Batgirl had gained a new measure of freedom. He repositioned his grip on her legs, preparing to spin her, but felt her calves tighten against his neck. Batgirl felt herself begin to swing and gripped one of French Freddy’s legs. To Spade’s horror, Batgirl suddenly hardened her muscles. He felt her straighten her legs and brace herself with her arms . Off balance, he tumbled forward and landed on his back with a decisive thud, propelled as Batgirl whipped her legs toward her head.

As Batgirl returned to her feet, she spotted CB returning to his and put him back down with a shove.

"Very impressive, Batgirl," Ma Parker said.

"I hope they’ve given you as good a workout as they gave me. Now, with your cooperation, we’ll march all of you off to jail where you belong."

Perhaps symbolically, Spade sat on the floor, legs crossed and arms in his lap. As Batgirl approached, he raised his hands in front of him and cowered. Ma Parker’s boyfriends had been soundly beaten.

"You may have mashed my men, but, if you think we’re just going to go to jail because you ask politely, you have another think coming.

Bridesmaids, never rely on men to do women’s work! Bash her!"

Ma Parker’s ravishing retinue attacked. Well, most of them did. Vixen moved to the wall and pulled a scimitar from its sheath. Then she moved around the fight and knelt beside French Freddy the Fence.

Meanwhile, Batgirl was beginning to feel the bruises the men had given her begin aching. She crouched, watching her attackers warily, and retreated. Eenie had slipped on her drugged Kitty Claws and was stalking toward her.

In a split second Eenie pounced and Batgirl dodged. The former kitten hit the wall and felt the claws dig into the drywall to hold the brunette in place. Batgirl slid behind her attacker and tapped her elbow hard into the back of Eenie’s head, which thumped the wall decisively.

Moth and Undine were closing in from either side. Batgirl stayed low, waiting. Undine fired a fist at Batgirl’s chin. The Purple Paragon turned her head and felt Undine’s knuckles whip past her. Batgirl reached forward, gripped Undine’s wrist, and wrenched the woman toward Batgirl’s other attacker. Moth and Undine collapsed in a heap.

Chickadee rushed toward Batgirl as her partners fell. Gotham’s Dark Angel saw her petite persecutor move out of the corner of her eye and spun, thrusting a kick at the oncoming woman. Chickadee took the kick in the stomach and crumpled painfully.

Vixen watched the fight as Batgirl tired. She had revived Freddy Touche and had given him the blade she had retrieved. They watched the fight, biding their time.

Moth and Undine had managed to disentangle themselves and approached their attacker again. Both were furious. Moth swung a leg at Batgirl and felt her ankle gripped and swung in the direction she was already moving. Batgirl pivoted and released Moth, flinging her at her fellow attacker. Moth and Undine went down again.

Batgirl glanced at Vixen, who continued to watch the fight from a position beside Freddy, and pursued her advantage over Undine and Moth. She cut Moth’s legs from beneath the woman the second the baby faced blonde regained a standing position. Upended, Moth hit the floor with a satisfying smack.

Seconds later, Undine lunged at Batgirl again. The beach bunny felt strong arms wind around her shoulders and her opponent slid behind her back.

Batgirl knew Vixen would be her toughest opponent in hand-to-hand combat. Whenever they had faced one another before, the odds had favored Vixen. While this time was no exception, Batgirl realized her handling of Undine could provide a respite for her before the real fight started. She pressed at the arteries in Undine’s neck, slowing the blood flow to her brain and slowly inducing unconsciousness. Vixen smiled as the winded combatant finished off Undine.

"Shall we dance?" Vixen asked, striding toward her opponent after Batgirl unceremoniously released Undine’s body, which slumped to the floor.

"By all means," Batgirl said. Without another word, Vixen began by launching a spinning karate kick at her.

Ready, Batgirl raised an arm to block and moved to sweep Vixen’s leg from beneath her. The younger woman let her leg pass over the block without making contact and stepped past her opponent once she landed. Before Batgirl could turn to face her, Vixen kicked the Cowled Crimefightress in the small of the back. Batgirl was knocked to the floor.

"Get up," Vixen ordered, stepping back to let the heroine stand. As Batgirl regained her feet, Vixen smiled at Gotham’s panting protector. "I’m going to enjoy this."

"Shut up and fight," Batgirl said, angrily crouching again and raising her fists.

"With pleasure." As the fight went on, Batgirl began to realize how dangerous an opponent Vixen could be. Vixen was circling her. To keep her rival in sight, Batgirl had begun to rotate in the center of the circle Vixen had established. Vixen intended for her to slowly get dizzy as the fight wore on. Not only was the blonde call girl an experienced fighter in excellent physical condition, Vixen was a tactician. At the moment, the woman was fresh compared to Batgirl.

Batgirl began to employ the classic strategy designed to counter Vixen’s tactic. She began to circle her opponent. "Very good, Batgirl," Vixen complimented. "You’re still going down." They went through a series of combinations as they moved in their fighting figure-eight pattern, neither gaining the upper hand.

Unless something happened to change things dramatically, both knew Vixen would win in the end. Batgirl had tired considerably while taking down her nine previous opponents. The outcome was inevitable.

The fight wore on.

Slowly, Batgirl realized where she might have an advantage. Vixen was younger. While the top-flight moll was quite skilled, Vixen just could not have been in as many fights as Batgirl. So far, both combatants were treating their struggle essentially like a sporting match, which it was not. While neither was likely to let the other score a victory based on a dirty fighting trick, Batgirl decided to fight more ruthlessly, taking advantage of their surroundings, and the fallen fighters she had littered the floor with earlier.

The first step in Batgirl’s plan was to draw Vixen in. She fended off a kick and gave no ground as Vixen moved to follow up with a punch. Instead of blocking the blow, this time Batgirl grasped her opponent’s wrist and pulled Vixen off balance. The Dark Angel of Gotham took a step across Vixen’s body and pivoted so she could fling the call girl over her hip.

Vixen landed on top of Moth and Undine’s closely spaced, prone bodies. Immediately she began to get back on her feet to rejoin the fight. Batgirl knew this was the chance. The younger combatant would not allow herself to be hip-tossed a second time.

Batgirl leaped after her opponent, spinning in midair and bringing her heel viciously downward. Rising, Vixen deflected the attack, but Batgirl whirled and launched another lightning-fast side kick at Vixen, which pierced her foe’s defenses and launched Vixen across the room. Vixen hit the wall hard and slid slowly to the floor. The henchgirl remained still.

Breathing heavily, Batgirl turned her attention to Ma Parker, who was applauding.

"Very good, Batgirl. I am impressed. Unfortunately, you will need a weapon for the next phase of the battle." Ma Parker leaned against the wall beneath a second mounted scimitar. "Freddy, carve her into sushi for me."

"With pleasure, Ma Parker," the Frenchman responded.

"Nothing like a fair fight," Batgirl noted grimly. French Freddy Toushe shrugged and came for her, brandishing his sword.

Batgirl knew her first priority was to arm herself. She charged at French Freddy, who stood between her and Ma Parker. Her opponent held the sword in front of him in both hands. As she approached, he prepared to slash at her.

Batgirl had been waiting for him to tip his hand. She dove under the blade past him and rolled to her feet in front of Ma Parker. Batgirl couldn’t afford pleasantries and knocked Legs off her feet with a spear hand to the upper chest. As Ma Parker fell, Batgirl took the second scimitar and spun, anticipating an attack.

Freddy Touche did not disappoint her. She parried and dropped to one knee, feeling his blade pass harmlessly overhead. He pressed his advantage. She used the second it took Freddy to set up the overhand swing he would need to split her skull to position her blade to parry. He tried to keep her down with sheer force, as she had hoped, and she kept her blade rigid against his as her powerful legs brought her back to a standing position.

Then she lowered the blade and thrust his away from her, giving the time and space she needed to cut across his chest and make him leap back out of reach. Then she was able to move to the classic en garde position for the first time.

"I see you fence," Freddy said.

"Not at your level, I’m sure."

"Let’s find out." Their swords clashed.

Barbara Gordon was more proficient with a greater variety of weapons than most people would have given her credit. She had learned to shoot as a teenager. Swordplay had become a hobby in college. Once she finished the introductory class, she arranged infrequent, but intense, lessons with a private kendo instructor. She worked out regularly at gymnastics and took the occasional weekend to keep up her martial arts and weapons skills. To beat Freddy Touche in a sword fight, she would need to call upon all her training and have a bit of luck.

The combatants leapt apart and clashed their blades together with shattering force. Batgirl was fighting defensively, conserving her depleted energy. She knew her opponent could easily outlast her. Unfortunately, he knew it, too, and was working at tiring her. The fight might last awhile, but, eventually, Batgirl feared her arm would tire and he would have her.

Then she realized how she could win. Freddy was excellent with his blade, but she knew more about fighting in general. If she could combine styles, she might overwhelm him. She began to fight more aggressively, making him give ground. Then she circled his blade and disengaged, attacking high immediately. He parried and countered. Batgirl parried with an upward stroke and spun, kicking him hard in the gut. Her sword slashed down for him as he took the blow and she smiled as his parry seemed weaker.

"I’m going to beat you, Freddy," she told him. As he straightened, she kicked him again with the ball of her foot. He grunted and slashed at her. She parried and spun her heel into him, knocking him down.

He held up his blade defensively and was dismayed when she used her own to sweep it aside. She put a foot on his sword hand. Pain registered on his face and she smiled at him sweetly.

"Yield!’’ Batgirl ordered.

French Freddy Touche let go of his sword. Batgirl mercilessly dropped a knee into his exposed chest and hit him hard with the pommel of her sword. The fight was over.

She straightened and let her sword fall beside his. She kicked both aside and turned to the recovered matriarch. "Next, please," she said, taking in some air and exhaling.

"Excellent, Batgirl. I never saw a need to fight fair."

"I’d noticed that. Nothing like starting a sword fight unarmed."

"Touche. It seems I’ll have to deal with you myself." A little less suddenly than she had planned, Ma Parker hurled a Batarang at her enemy. Batgirl reached out and caught it.

"You’ll have to do better than that, Legs." Batgirl tossed the weapon in her hand to invert the grip before sending it spinning back at her enemy. The Batarang began to return to Batgirl, but clipped Ma Parker’s, chin dropping the would-be bride to the floor. "Back to jail with you all," Batgirl said, striding toward the dais.

Suddenly Batgirl became aware of a sobbing infant. She stopped.

"Look what you’ve done now!" Grandma Parker scolded her. She picked up the child and began to rock the baby. "There. There. Everything’s going to be okay. Did the big bad Batgirl frighten you? Here. Have your rattle." Grandma Parker picked up the rattle and shook it. The baby reached for it and shook it. The baby began to sound happier and Batgirl continued to approach the senior villainess.

As Batgirl reached the edge of the dais Grandma Parker bent and set the child in the cradle. As she straightened, Batgirl saw her holding another rattle, which she shook and flung hard toward Batgirl’s feet. The nimble heroine leaped backward as the toy shattered and released a cloud of colored smoke.

Batgirl realized Grandma Parker had used the infant to draw her closer. She had not moved back far enough to avoid the smoke. She coughed and felt herself begin to weaken. Seconds later, her knees buckled and she collapsed helplessly to the floor.

In the countless times this had happened, Batgirl never recalled an instance where she was not overcome by blackness seconds after being rendered helpless. Yet, this time, she was able to watch as Grandma Parker descended from the dais to retrieve one of the machine guns from the golf bag in a conveniently nearby closet.

She approached with inexorable slowness and trained the unfriendly end of her weapon at Gotham City’s delectable defender. Grandma Parker let her lips curl into a wicked smile. "I wanted you to see it coming, Batgirl," she said and drew back the bolt.

Barbara Gordon had known when she took up fighting crime as Batgirl that one day she might go up against a villain and not come back. As she stared at the woman about to murder her, Batgirl realized a hail of bullets would perforate her body in a matter of seconds, beckoning death. She could not prevent it. The Grim Reaper loomed above her, casting his inescapable shadow.

"Goodbye," Grandma Parker said with a satisfied laugh.

Batgirl could only close her eyes and accept the inevitable.

"Nooooo!"

The cry was anguished and drawn out. Batgirl heard it and was surprised it had not come from her own throat.

Grandma Parker had to have expected Batgirl to protest being gunned down, but Barbara had no illusions about the likely effectiveness of any such pleas. Yet her would-be killer engaged the safety and turned to Batgirl’s savior, who now stood, extending a restraining arm. "I have a much more interesting end in mind for Batgirl," Ma Parker said, "however, we’ll need time to prepare it."

Batgirl gratefully turned to stare at the younger villainess, opening her eyes. The pop of a less lethal gun registered and Batgirl spotted the tiny dart flying toward her before a sharp pain shot from the point on her abdomen where it impaled her. Seconds later, she blacked out completely.

Batgirl’s head hurt when she revived. She tried to move her hand to her utility belt, where she kept a capsule to deal with headaches such as this. She could not move her arm. Her eyes opened wide and she spotted a wire wrapped around her shoulder. An experimental movement of her wrist revealed it was lashed to something beneath her with stout rope. Her other arm was similarly restrained. As her head cleared, she became aware she was lying on her back.

A series of further experimental movements determined her ankles were lashed beneath her, out of sight. Wires, similar to the ones encircling her shoulders, had been wound around her hips and run between her legs and back up her body along her spine. As she glanced down the length of her body, she realized the wires had then been crisscrossed behind her neck and though the cleft between her breasts. She frowned as a glimmer of understanding began to nudge at her awareness.

"The flying mouse is awake," a woman said from a point Batgirl could not see. The speaker was neither Ma Parker nor her mother. It was Undine.

"Shall we get started, then?" Vixen asked.

"By all means," Moth said.

"This is going to be fun!" Chickadee said, giggling.

Eenie stepped into view. "Batgirl," she said, addressing the bound beauty, "Ma Parker and the boys are preparing your final arrangements. In the meantime, they left it up to us to entertain you." The five fiendish females laughed and Batgirl tried to maintain a poker face, as fear began to gnaw at her. They would not be allowed to kill her, but there was a lot they could do to her while remaining certain she stayed alive.

Eenie began to describe one such method of "entertainment." "I’m sure you’ve noticed the wires entwining your body." Batgirl nodded. Eenie grinned wickedly. "Well, my whisker-thin wires were wound into this winch earlier." Eenie lifted the mechanism and let it rest between her victim’s knees. Then, with deliberate slowness, she turned the crank, tightening the wires around Batgirl’s body. "This could kill you, Batgirl.

“But don’t worry. I won’t let it. The process won’t even hurt, but, as the blood flow is cut off from your extremities, your oxygen-starved cells will begin to protest most painfully. Happy twitching." Batgirl watched silently as Eenie curled up comfortably on a sofa to watch her suffer.

The tingling began in her fingers and toes, from which the circulation had already been dramatically reduced by the ropes binding her wrists and ankles. As the sensation spread to her feet and hands, the pins and needles stage began. The torment spread to her forearms and calves as her phalanges began twitching. When the sensation spread to her upper arms and thighs, Batgirl knew the skin of her fingers and toes would eventually discolor. As the torturous sensations reached her hips and shoulders, she felt her muscles beginning to cramp.

"Aren’t you ladies repeating yourselves? We did this outside America’s Mall at the Crystal Castle."

"Not really," Eenie replied. "Now, I can regulate the tightness of the wires." She laughed and demonstrated.

"You see, Batgirl," Eenie observed with exaggerated sweetness. "It’s working. Better speed things up, though. We don’t have all day." With a laugh she tightened the wires.

Slowly, Batgirl began to feel the cramping muscles in her lower limbs begin to twitch. She gasped.

"That’s better," Eenie said. "All you have to do to make it stop is ask."

"Never," Batgirl whispered.

"Suit yourself," Eenie responded, tightening the wires again with a laugh. As the conniving kitten returned to her couch, Batgirl’s limbs began to quiver violently. The fiendish females giggled. Breathing was becoming a challenge.

"Oh, God," Batgirl said as the painful sensations intensified. Eenie reached for her winch and drew the wires tighter yet. "No," Batgirl said, gasping, as the single word hung suspended, floating on her shallow breath.

"Your plea for help must be in the form of a question," Eenie purred. "Otherwise, you’ll remain in jeopardy." Wire dug mercilessly deeper into the material of Batgirl’s costume as the heroine’s body shook uncontrollably. Eenie put her hand on the winch handle again.

"Stop?" Batgirl said. The wires were beginning to tear her costume. She knew her flesh would be next.

"Stop what?" Eenie asked sharply.

"Please?" Batgirl said, her voice hissing weakly through her teeth. She was having trouble inhaling as her body quivered and each cell in her limbs was deprived of oxygen.

"That’s better," the bad brunette observed, removing her hand from the winch handle. "Moth, what’s left of her is all yours."

The baby-faced blonde stepped into view, looking down at their victim and reached for the winch handle. Batgirl’s eyes widened in horror as Moth wrapped her fingers around it. The victim was a little surprised when the winch unwound wire, loosening its torturous hold on the heroine’s body.

"You’re wondering why I’m releasing you from Eenie’s whisker-thin wires," Moth said, voicing the question in Batgirl’s wide eyes.

Batgirl inhaled deeply as the wires giving her chest superfluous definition loosened. "The question had crossed my mind," she admitted.

Moth held Batgirl’s gaze and smiled. She reached to one of her companions and was handed a hair dryer. "You’ve heard the expression, ‘moth to a flame,’ of course. Well, I’ve decided to show you a hot time. I need blood flowing for your skin to better feel the pain I plan to inflict upon you. So my ending Eenie’s torture isn’t at all nice, as you are about to discover." Moth paused and laughed. "Besides, her wires will serve my purpose just as well with your blood flowing freely."

With that, the voluptuous villainess turned on her hair dryer and bent over her victim, focusing hot air on her victim’s costume above the groin.

Unfortunately for Batgirl, the lurex of her outfit conducted heat all too well. With agonizing slowness, the rising temperature did its wicked work on Batgirl’s flesh. At the same time, the wires encircling her hips; running along her spine; and winding around among her shoulders, neck, and chest transmitted the heat to other regions of Batgirl’s body. "Now, I want a nice, long, loud, scream, Batgirl. And I am not a patient woman. Girls, have at her!"

Batgirl was horrified as the whine of more hair dryers began. She felt Moth’s evil efforts focus on her thighs, while Moth’s comely cohorts attacked her hips, abdomen, and breasts with additional hot air.

“We’re cooking the juice right out of her,” Undine observed, as Batgirl felt sweat begin streaming from her face.

"Back off the heat and dry out her sweat glands," Moth ordered. "We’ll be more effective if we can keep her from sweating. Her costume is working against her on this as well." Batgirl realized the skin-tight material Moth and the others were melting into her every curve was indeed making her exposed face glisten with sweat. A layer of the cooling liquid had also built up between her flesh and her costume, but the external heat guns were slowly turning it to steam, causing it to scald every inch of her muscular body. Also, Undine was mercilessly evaporating the moisture from her face as her sweat glands secreted the liquid her body was generating in response to Moth’s torturous treatment. Soon, her costume would be baked into place against every inch of her body.

Batgirl closed her eyes and resigned herself to the pain she knew would come. She felt the waves of heat travel from her upper chest to her abdomen and neck while the pain in her lower body encompassed her thighs and rose to her navel. Undine was warming her shoulders less as the sadistic beach bunny devoted attention to drying the sweat on their victim’s face.

Batgirl began to blink excessively in order to moisten her eyes, as the five fetching fiends moved on to her back and the limbs bound beneath the table. She glanced at a mirror beside the book cases across the room and realized her face was red. "Oh my God. I’m as red as a tomato!"

"We stop when you scream," Moth reminded her coldly.

"I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction."

"Suit yourself. When we come back on top," Moth whispered wickedly, "we’ll work you over until you blister. We’re talking second degree burns, baby." Moth stroked Batgirl’s dry cheek and smiled as her victim cringed involuntarily. "If you think your pride is worth the cost of the pain, we’ll be sure to make the price as high as the temperature."

Batgirl closed her eyes and pictured herself peeling her costume from her burned body. The pain she was suffering now was nothing compared with what she would endure later. The blisters Moth promised would complicate things and make Barbara Gordon’s burns hard to explain, if she lived through whatever Ma Parker planned for her.

The bad bridesmaids were returning the hot air guns to the main parts of her body splayed on top of the table. She struggled vainly for a moment and heard them laugh in response. "
Stoppppp!" she screamed and collapsed in despairing silence. Her torturers complied.

It seemed like a long time before Batgirl realized she could feel anything but pain. Her skin had shrunk to an excruciating tightness that would only go away once she drank a lot of water and sank into a comfortably cool tub. She opened her eyes and was relieved to feel them fill with tears. As she focused, she saw Chickadee looming above her. What would the Bronx-accented bimbo do to her now?

"Ah, you’re back, Batgirl," Chickadee said delightedly. "I’ve decided to introduce a little levity into your death——with these." Chickadee brought her hands into view and displayed a group of palm-sized feathers. "I expect with your tight costume hugging your body ever-so-much-more- closely than usual and every inch of you being so sensitive after what Moth did, that this treatment will be quite effective."

"You’ve been talking to Vixen, I see."

"It will be a bit of a rerun for me," the blonde call girl said with a demented cackle,"but last time you put on such a good show." Every woman except Batgirl laughed.

"Oh, she isn’t having a good time," Chickadee said with mock sympathy. "We’ll soon fix that. Get her!"

As they came, Batgirl recalled the first time she had been tickle-tortured by feathers. She had been captured by The Joker and bound to something resembling a lawn chair, so his mechanized tickling machine could have at her. He and Vixen had looked on gleefully as the machine slowly pushed her toward the brink of insanity.

Then, of course, she had not had every inch of her body subjected to first degree burns, and her costume had not been melted into her every curve. Finally, the machine had been programmed to work on her at specific speeds and at preprogrammed intervals, to maximize the psychological ordeal. This time, Batgirl imagined, Chickadee and her companions were primarily focused on her physical response. They would use the feathers to maximum effect until they tired of her suffering. Her previous torments would only serve to make matters worse.

The Bronx-born babe began the torture by touching the tip of her feather to the inside of Batgirl’s right thigh and drawing it upward to caress her groin lovingly. Involuntarily, Gotham’s Dark Angel grinned.

Chickadee nodded and Moth let a feather caress one of Batgirl’s sides from her well-rounded hip to her vulnerable underarm.

As Batgirl’s grin widened to a smile, Undine drew her feather along the heroine’s other side in the opposite direction.

Once the treatment had induced a tiny titter of laughter, Chickadee nodded again. Vixen touched her feather to the center of Batgirl’s crotch and drew it slowly upward until it slid to outline the yellow bat between Batgirl’s breasts. Then, with practiced hands, the blonde call girl began to let her implement of torture slide all over Batgirl’s bosoms, brushing quickly, stimulating them for the maximum effect.

Try as she might, Batgirl could not help but chuckle. Chickadee seized the moment and nodded to get Eenie sliding a feather under Batgirl’s nose, across her lips, and against her cheeks until her chuckle had grown into full fledged laughter.

"Keep it going, girls," Chickadee ordered mercilessly. "I don’t think she’s really having fun yet." Soon Gotham City’s Dominoed Dare Doll was quaking uncontrollably. Then, unexpectedly, Chickadee called a halt.

The five feathers flicking across Batgirl’s costume and flesh stopped. Her laughter subsided slowly. Quaking became laughing. Laughing became a giggle. The giggle became a slight titter. Her titter became a chuckle Finally, her involuntary muscular vibrations ceased altogether and she began to breath regularly.

"Shall we redouble our efforts?" Chickadee asked, gleefully passing each torturer an additional feather.

"Of course," Moth agreed.

"Sure," Undine said, nodding.

"By all means," Eenie said, grinning wickedly.

"With pleasure," Vixen said, letting her new feather flit across the tips of Batgirl’s breasts. All of the women smiled as Batgirl’s body shivered in response to even the light touch.

Chickadee waited for Batgirl’s quivering body to return to rest. ‘‘Very well," she said with an evil chuckle. "Begin!"

The five fetching females went back to work on Batgirl, stroking, caressing, and darting their implements of torture in fiendish figure eights across the svelte sentinel’s shapely, sensitized body. Batgirl began laughing much more quickly this time. Her captors kept her quaking until the whisker-thin wires Eenie had tightened against her fetching frame began to slice into her skin, drawing blood as she shook with reckless abandon.

"Well, we’ve drawn blood," Chickadee observed, disappointedly. "I suppose we’d better back off. We aren’t supposed to kill her, you know."

"Thank you," Batgirl said with as much earnestness as she could muster between guffaws.

"You may regret thanking me, Batgirl. Chickadee advised. "It’s Undine’s turn next."

The statuesque blonde moved to the window mounted air conditioner and turned it up to maximum. Then she wheeled a tea cart with four pitchers on top over to Batgirl’s side. "It’s going to get a bit chilly, girls. I think the Parkers have some sweaters and blankets in the cedar chest.” Once her cohorts had wrapped themselves, Undine took a large cooler from the bottom shelf of the cart. From the cooler she withdrew three bags of ice, which clinked as she set them on the floor. Next, she poured three pitchers of water into the cooler.

The fourth pitcher remained atop the tea cart.

With deliberate slowness, Undine lifted and dropped one of the ice bags a few time, making sure the cubes inside were well separated. Then she emptied the ice into the cooler. She repeated this procedure with the remaining bags.

When she had finished, she touched the remaining pitcher. "This one is warm," she remarked. "It must be the cocoa." She poured five steaming mugs of hot cocoa. The torturers sipped their beverages.

"Yum yum," Undine teased. "Time to cool down Batgirl. Brush!" Vixen handed her a large paint brush.

Undine dipped the bristles in the icy water and stirred it so the ice moved around noisily. Then barbaric beach babe withdrew the brush and held it over Batgirl’s offered body. An icecube fell between Batgirl’s breasts and caused her to shiver. As it melted, Undine allowed several droplets of water to run down Batgirl’s abdomen before letting the bristles drop onto the heroine’s crotch. Another shiver brought a smile of wicked satisfaction to the henchwoman’s lips.

"I’ll bet you think you’re hot stuff, Batgirl," she said. "Well, I’ll soon fix that."

Undine began to brush water over every inch of Batgirl’s costumed body. The lurex conducted cold just as well as it did heat. Each time Undine returned her brush to the water, she retrieved an ice cube and placed it strategically to melt on some particularly sensitive spot. The ice water, combined with the chill air blasting from the air conditioner, subjected Batgirl to a uniquely chilly agony.

"Don’t lose your cool, Batgirl," Undine taunted. "I have several gallons to use up on you. I know none of us will be bored." She cruelly sipped at her cocoa. "This is delicious."

“The cocoa?" Vixen asked, interestedly.

"Everything," Undine replied. She finished her drink and dipped the cup in the cooler to pour an ice cold puddle of semisolid ice into the hollow of Batgirl’s belly.

The heroine shivered helplessly. Undine continued Batgirl’s artistic torture. The villains looked on with glee.

As Batgirl went on shivering in response to Undine’s slow brush strokes wetting her body and the slowly melting, strategically placed ice cubes, she considered the overall insidiousness of her treatment at Ma Parker’s henchwomen’s hands.

Intentionally or not, Undine’s skimpy outfit added an insidious dimension to Batgirl’s experience. The bound heroine lay shivering at her mercy as Undine crouched, warmed by her cocoa, wearing barely a thing. Undine’s beautiful body quivered with laughter as she worked, masking any shivering the blasting air conditioning may have induced. The satisfied, wicked smile on the torturer’s lips never wavered.

The wires Eenie had entwined Batgirl with had come into play earlier, making both Moth’s hair dryers more excruciating and Chickadee’s tickling more deadly than they might otherwise have been. Eenie’s wires would soon undo any healing that might have taken place since her feather-induced laughter subsided, if she continued shivering and there was no reason to expect the involuntary movements to cease any time soon.

Moth’s hair dryers had made her skin more sensitive, to make the tickling feathers more effective.

Undine was slowly saturating every pore of her skin with cold water. The cold was a stark contrast to the heat Moth had used against her. Batgirl knew heat and cold could be employed scientifically and slowly to break the human spirit. While she was certain this was not the intent of Ma Parker’s henchwoman harem, the fact Vixen, who likely had the most personal grudge against her, had waited until last to torment her filled Batgirl with horrific foreboding. She did not dare predict what horror Vixen was waiting to inflict. After a few chilly eternities, she would find out.

When Undine finished, she stood, strode to the air conditioner and flipped it off. "Next," she said.

Vixen moved to stand over Batgirl with her hands on her hips and her legs spread to shoulder width, mocking Batgirl’s classic pose. "Well, here we are again, Batgirl," she observed. “You shocked me with a static gun a couple of times while looking for Catwoman and you slapped me."

"I thought you had already expressed your displeasure over those events, before you last left me to die."

"So I did,” Vixen admitted. She paused.

"But I find the tables have turned yet again and I just can’t seem to forgive you, despite my having made my feelings on the matter quite clear."

"Vixen, I mishandled that situation. I apologize."

The blonde bimbo threw her head back and laughed. Then her eyes blazed as she spoke, "You are so pathetic. You lay there knowing you’re going to get it! Do you seriously think I’m going to change my mind because you apologize?" Vixen laughed again. "I agree you’re sorry. And you’re still going to get it——with these!" She produced an electric cattle prod and brandished it menacingly. "You can try begging again, if you want." Vixen’s cruel laugh subsided to a chuckle.

"I won’t beg you, Vixen."

"It wouldn’t help anyway. Eenie and I found a few of these lying around one of Catwoman’s old lairs. I understand at full power they put the victim out, therefore, we’ll start small and work our way up." Eenie handed out similar implements to the others, as Vixen pressed her weapon against Batgirl.

The shock made Batgirl twitch, as pain raced from the point of contact along Eenie’s wires to grip her body in agony, amplified by the lingering wetness from Undine’s "paint job." Involuntarily, Batgirl screamed.

"Music to my ears," Vixen remarked and shocked her again. "Okay, girls, have at her!"

Vixen’s electrical attack sent pain surging all over Batgirl’s body, which began to quiver. Suddenly, the lingering pain was replaced by a sharp jolt as Eenie jabbed her side. Moth, Undine, and Chickadee quickly joined the others as Batgirl quaked in silent agony.

Batgirl knew it was going to hurt and swallowed to keep from screaming again. Vixen backed off. Batgirl gasped as the others followed suit.

"This is less fun than I thought it would be," Vixen remarked. Batgirl’s body has stopped shaking. "Here’s what we’ll do. Turn up the volume a notch and keep one cattle prod in contact with her body at all times, until I change my mind." Vixen leaned close to Batgirl’s left Bat-ear and lowered her voice, saying, "One cattle prod, at least." Everyone but Batgirl chuckled. "I want another delicious scream."

Batgirl prepared herself, wondering how long she would be able to last before the treatment elicited the inevitable scream. One by one she heard clicks indicating the output of her enemies weapons was being increased.

It seemed the pain should begin at any moment. Minutes passed. When the pain did not come, Batgirl’s concentration wavered. She began to relax and breath regularly.

Then, suddenly, five points of pain jabbed at her, lancing outward in all directions. Her muscles contracted and her body shook. Batgirl would never be sure how long the cattle prods were used against her continuously. She could feel each individual weapon being pulled back and returned into contact with her. She was peripherally aware of Vixen orchestrating her pain.

Finally, a long sustained scream escaped her lips. It echoed horribly in the chamber for a long moment after her lungs had emptied. Batgirl breathed heavily as all of the cattle prods were pulled away. Pain lingered as a further echo of the torment she had endured, her shaking body fitfully settling to rest.

"Don’t any of you think I’ll ever forget this!" she whispered hoarsely.

"I don’t think it will matter much," a new voice said. "You won’t be around long enough to visit your righteous wrath on any of us, Batgirl." Ma Parker was leaning ornamentally against the door jamb, enjoying the show. She had dressed again, knotting a shirt across her breasts. Batgirl had no ideal how long she had been there.

Batgirl was almost completely spent, yet she wasn’t nearly as defeated as her next words made her seem. If they thought she was whipped, maybe they would get careless. "Haven’t you done enough to me?" Batgirl asked the new addition, who completed the sinister sextet.

"Oh, no,” Ma Parker replied, “I’ve got something much more permanent in mind than what the girls have put you through.” Legs turned to her cohorts. “I trust you’ve enjoyed your chance to play?"

"Very much. Thank you. Have you decided who to marry?’’ Vixen asked.

"Yes, but I’m keeping it a secret for now."

"What’s next?" Moth asked.

"We will eliminate Batgirl and conclude my wedding plans. I will marry my husband. We will celebrate in a number of ways and then I will begin setting up my empire." Her bridesmaids nodded. Ma Parker clapped her hands and Spade and Bolt entered the room. "Boys, take her to the whirlpool. You know what to do when you get there, don’t you?"

"Yeah, boss," Bolt said.

"We sure do," Spade agreed.

Batgirl moaned. Legs glanced at her absently. "Would you girls be kind enough to render her unconscious for me?"

Vixen nodded. "Sure. Crank the cattle prods to full power." The henchwomen obeyed. "Good. Now, zap her!"

The pain of the renewed attack was sharp, but only momentary, as the shock ushered Batgirl into the black void of oblivion almost instantly.

Batgirl revived slowly. She blinked several times, hoping the rapid, tiny movements of her eyelids would go unnoticed. Batgirl employed the self-developed discipline involved in feigning continued unconsciousness. The blinking was a departure from the requirements of remaining still and silent, but the chief purpose of her ruse was to eavesdrop on unknowing villains. Information gained in the past while employing this discipline had helped Batgirl break cases and saved her life by lulling unwitting evildoers into false confidence.

As Batgirl listened, Ma Parker ordered final arrangements for her wedding. "Right, gang, once we’ve finished off Batgirl, I want Spade and Freddy to help Vixen snatch a minister, priest, or public official who can perform the ceremony. Don’t be stupid like Penguin and kidnap Bruce Wayne’s butler! In fact, if any of you go anywhere near stately Wayne Manor, I don’t want to know about it.

“Moth will help me dress. Chickadee and Matey Dee can get us a qualified chef to prepare dinner. Eenie and CB will get Jack O’Shea to take photographs and publicize the big event and Undine and Bolt will get us a musician and appropriate instruments. When all of our assignments are complete, we’ll meet at the uniquely appropriate location I picked out for the ceremony. You all know how to get there, don’t you?”

"I think so," Undine responded. "You’ll have to remind me what exit to use. Otherwise, I’ll be fine."

"No problem. Any other questions?"

"Do you know Jack O’Shea?" Moth asked Eenie.

"No, both of us worked for Catwoman, but at different times. Jack worked for her when she tried to steal a fortune and two very valuable violins from Minerva Mathews, the well-known, wealthy recluse, and multimillionaire Zubin Zuccini of the Ruby Match Company. I helped her steal Chad and Jeremy’s voices as a prelude to holding the world economy hostage for real megabucks," Eenie purred.

"I know Mr. O’Shea," Vixen announced.

"How?" Moth asked.

"Professionally."

"He can afford you now," Eenie said. "When he worked for Catwoman, he used a phone booth at Glob’s Drug Store as his office. Today, he is the Jerry Springer of gossip columnists."

"Don’t you mean the modern-day Walter Winchell?" Moth asked.

"Does he pay you by check?" Undine asked.

"I don’t take checks, dear." Vixen replied.

As the henchwomen compared personal policies on payment and compensation, Batgirl began to assess her situation.

She decided she should, realistically, be in much more pain. Another odd thing was she could not detect bindings of any kind anywhere on her body. Yet, she was splayed like a starfish on her tummy and totally immobilized. Face down, her head rested on her left cheek. Her arms and legs each seemed to weigh a ton. She tried to shift her position, but remained still. She next tried to move each of her limbs individually, but could literally not move a muscle.

Her immobility was not the only unusual aspect of her situation.

The surface she lay on was buoyant, slightly sticky, and cool. Puzzled, Batgirl barely opened one eye to examined it and noticed its deep scarlet color. Hadn’t Ma Parker ordered her taken to a whirlpool? What had happened to her since she had been shocked into unconsciousness? What would happen next?

Irrational fear began to gnaw at her. While Batgirl awaited her impending doom’s inevitable explanation, an overwhelming, inexplicable foreboding augmented her lack of understanding. Yet, she recognized the familiar tingle of excitement mingling with her fears, as adrenaline started flowing in her veins.

She knew she would need to steel herself, to bolster the confidence dignity demanded she show her enemies. Little attention was being paid her as she inhaled. As breath left her, she felt wetness against her cheek. The water Undine had painted into her costume had evaporated long ago. Thus, the wetness had come from another source. Batgirl began to understand the preparations Ma Parker’s men had made when she realized she could also feel wetness against her upper chest and lower abdomen.

Batgirl revealed her alertness with a theatrical moan. She was still unable to move her arms or legs.

"Boss, she’s awake," Chickadee said.

"Welcome back, Batgirl," Ma Parker said.

"Can’t say I’m pleased to be here."

"Not to worry. You won’t be with us much longer."

"What is going on?"

"I’m sure you’ve noticed we gave you something to help you relax."

"Yes."

Ma Parker laughed and explained, "Since everyone else was having a good deal of fun at your expense, I thought I’d give the boys their turn. The muscle relaxants were administered exclusively to your limbs. Your leg men were Bolt and Spade. Bolt injected your right leg and Spade handled what was over to the left. I know because I watched."

Batgirl glared, best she could from her position, at the wickedly grinning henchmen behind their current mistress.

"As for your arms, French Freddy was your right hand man and Maty Dee attended to your left."

"Whether you kill me or not, you will all pay dearly for this," Batgirl said quietly.

"Once we were all certain the muscles in your limbs had been reduced to mush, CB spread you on top of the gelatin the boys put in my whirlpool. I liked watching him work so much I made him remove your cape and roll you over." Ma Parker giggled girlishly, enjoying herself and her memories. "How is it going, CB?"

"Everything looks great, Boss," the thug said. He was standing behind a tripod-mounted camera, panning Batgirl, Ma Parker’s gang, and their surroundings from a staged background resembling the side of a building. "I haven’t missed a thing, and neither do you."

"Thank you," replied Ma Parker with a smile.

"You’re disgusting, Legs."

The new Ma Parker sighed. “Oh, Batgirl, so now you’re back to calling me, Legs, eh? Ah, well.”

She continued. "Anyway, I know I’m disgusting. I like myself that way. Now, back to your predicament. Your body heat began to melt the gelatin beneath you even before you were flipped over. Slowly, you’ll descend the three to four feet to the bottom of my whirlpool. I know it’s not very deep, but since you can’t move your limbs, it will be more than enough to drown you. You’ll sink like a hot knife through butter when enough gelatin liquefies beneath you." Ma Parker punctuated her explanation of Batgirl’s doom with a low chuckle.

"Diabolical."

"Why, thank you. I’m sure you’ll find it delicious as well. The gelatin is cherry flavored," Ma Parker reported as her chuckle evolved into a genuinely amused laugh.

"You’re depraved."

"Quite. I notice your hot bod is making a gelatin puddle already." Ma Parker slid a finger across the scarlet puddle beneath Batgirl’s slowly sinking breasts. She licked herself clean with seductive slowness. The malevolent matriarch giggled and moved with two sexy strides to a switch she playfully flipped. Instantly, the contents of the whirlpool began to glow with ruby red light.

Batgirl felt the gelatin beneath her warm noticeably.

"There. That should speed things up. I replaced the original light bulbs in the whirlpool with halogen bulbs, just for you. The amount of additional heat they generate compared with the light they put out is exponential. I estimate you’ll be swimming in a matter of minutes, rather than hours. Oh, sorry. Did I say swimming? I meant drowning."

"This will fail, Legs, just like your last two attempts on my life."

"We’ll see. That reminds me, before I leave, I want to return this," Ma Parker said, slipping off Batgirl’s previously stolen utility belt and tossing it to within an inch of her right hand. "It probably contains some miraculous pill that would counteract the muscle relaxants you’ve been injected with, that is, if only you could reach them." The gloating villainess’ voice had taken on a tone of mock sympathy.

"I see you’ve given my fate some thought."

"A great deal of thought, Batgirl," she said, leaning close to her victim. "So tell me, have I missed anything?" She seemed genuinely interested as her eyes sparkled expectantly.

"I have to admit, I can’t think of a thing."

Ma Parker chuckled and straightened. "I’m so pleased. I’d love to stay and watch you take the short, but fatal dive I’ve arranged for you, but I have to get ‘to the church on time.”

"Congratulations."

"Why, thank you.” Ma Parker started to leave, then stopped and turned back. “You know, I suppose I at least owe it to you to let you know how important your death will be to my ascension to power."

"Oh?"

"Yes. You see, once hubby and I have consummated our union, we’ll return here to view your ravishing remains. The gelatin in which you will be entombed can then be frozen and delivered to the police.” Ma Parker smiled thinly, then obviously shifted her gaze to Batgirl’s butt. “So you see, for me, your end is just the beginning!"

‘‘Help me understand, Legs," Batgirl said, impassively.

Ma Parker became more excited as she spoke, letting her voice grow louder and her words come more quickly. "Everyone in the underworld will know I am to be taken seriously when I have succeeded where all of them failed. They will respect me. They will fear me! And if they don’t, well . . ." Her threat remained unspoken.

"How will you keep your new husband from taking the credit for my death?" Batgirl asked. Her only chance now might be to rattle her would-be murderess.

"He wouldn’t dare——"

"You’re pretty good at implying threats, Legs. Will you have what it takes when the time comes to make good on them?"

"That, my dear dying doll, is one of the many things my husband will be for. Now, as I look over your predicament again, it seems my plans for you are well underway."

Batgirl realized Ma Parker was right. Her hips had already lowered an entire inch into the semisolid gelatin.

The blond bad girl turned to her entourage. "Let’s get going, gang. I tire of this tedious badinage. It really was a very good try, Batgirl. Buh Bye."

With a laugh and a mocking bow, Ma Parker led her gang’s departure. She threw a dazzling smile over her shoulder as she took a final farewell look at her victim. Grandma Parker blew Batgirl a parting kiss and picked up the baby, who cooed happily as they left. The henchwomen each gave their victim a courtly curtsy and a satisfied nod before heading out the door. The men followed more reluctantly, casting last longing looks at the spread-eagled enchantress being eased to an ignominious end.

Batgirl, splayed motionless on the shimmering semisolid mass of gelatin, was left alone in silence to her own devices, which were a mere inch out of reach!

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