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Batgirl - Who Me? (Crossdressing Version)

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Story © Steve Zink

The following story contains characters owned by DC Comics/Warner Bros. It is written as a fanfic parody story not intended to make any use of actual story lines in published books. The story is purely for fun, with no profit to be made by the author.

Characters in this story are loosely based upon the Batman Adventures animated show, since in the comics, Batman, Robin, Batgirl and Nightwing do not appear or work together. Consider it a sort of Elseworlds-type story, not really set in any of the normal Bat realms. My imagination does not necessarily work within the usual DC Comics realm.


Ever since donning the mantle of the bat a couple of years earlier, to take Batman's place at a rally in support of her arrested father, Police Commissioner James Gordon, Barbara had walked a tightrope in keeping him from finding out her alter ego. The prematurely grey detective was cleared of the charges and brought back into action, which he relished. James Gordon may have been in his mid-forties, but he had the physique of a fit twenty-year old. He lived for the action of working the streets with his force.

Barbara Gordon was a petite redhead, with a body to die for. It gave her father great pleasure to see the way she had trained her body to be fit and well toned. Her actual physique had probably been inherited from her late mother, who'd died while Barbara was still a preschooler. The small frame with which Barbara was endowed was proportioned perfectly, with a tiny waist and nicely rounded hips.

It wasn't until she'd reached her junior year in high school that puberty struck Barbara hard, and it was at that time that her chest started to blossom to match the rest of her gorgeous body. By the time she'd become Batgirl, Barbara was blessed with a 40-22-36 figure, her bounteous breasts filling D cups. Her costume showed off her figure nicely.

Barbara had great difficulty sneaking in and out of her ground floor bedroom window at the Gordon residence. Her father wasn't deaf, and odd noises would lead him to her activities right away. Batgirl had to forgo some missions, merely because Barbara couldn't get away from her dad. Once she finished school and got a job at the library, Babs started working on persuading her father to let her move into her own domicile. Batgirl had to bide her time, and watch her moves very carefully.

Finally getting her own apartment helped, since she no longer had to live under the same roof as her dad, but Batgirl now had the problem of getting in and out of her apartment without being discovered by her neighbors. One of the bedrooms in her two bedroom flat was being utilized as her computer center, from which she could tap into any system in Gotham City, or beyond if necessary. The other bedroom had more than just her bed in it.

The large walk-in closet in her bedroom had a huge unused space behind it, and very conveniently, a ladder leading to ground level was only twelve feet to the right, along the inner wall. Barbara had a working permit drawn up in her computer, with all the appropriate signatures in place, to have a large enclosed room built in the blank area behind her closet. The construction team were given the impression that the cute young redhead merely wanted a bigger closet in which to store her seemingly huge wardrobe. Little did they know just how large Barbara Gordon's wardrobe actually was.

When the construction work was finished, Barbara herself rebuilt a thin wall at the back of her closet, in place of the one torn down by the workers. A carefully hidden doorway was built into the right side of the wall, in the back right corner of the actual closet. The door, when opened, would lead to Barbara's miniature Batcave. A large rack was assembled, upon which her costumes could be hung. A dressing table, with a brightly lit mirror on the wall above it, was against the outer wall, and a shelving unit was put in next to the costume rack for her wig and cowl collection.

The hardest part of the construction for her hideaway had been the skinny walkway Barbara had to install, leading from the doorway in the side of her unit along the wall to the ladder. She put this walkway on hinges, so that when it wasn't in use, it could be folded up and not lead any straying eyes directly from the ladder to her room.

Of course, the main reason that Barbara selected the complex into which she'd moved was that there was a lockable shed big enough for her motorcycle tucked away in the blank space on ground level. All she would have to do when Batgirl was needed, was to get into her little lair, change into her costume, open the door and lower the walkway, make her way to the ladder, then climb down two stories and walk forty feet to the concrete shed. There was a restricted access alley behind the complex, which had a thin facing between it and the blank space, so a quick action set of doors was built for the Batcycle to go in and out of.

Batman and Robin were very well known among the members of the police force for being the disguise specialists in Gotham City. Thanks to her taps into the Bat Computer, Babs knew that their disguises went well beyond costumes, however. She knew the identities of all the members of the Bat team, and had been careful to make sure they did not know hers. She'd been thinking about that as she continued to worry about her dad and his suspicions.

James Gordon did not become a Detective, and then eventually Police Commissioner, by being an unobservant fool. Even with his daughter out from under his wing, he still lived close enough to her to see her for dinner and other affairs on a pretty regular basis. He did wonder every now and then if Barbara was ever going to replace him with a younger man with which to spend her time, but so far she seemed to be a loner. What got his suspicions started long ago, therefore continued for the time being. Ever since Batgirl had come on the scene, he had noticed a distinct pattern of disappearances of his daughter.

Every now and then, Jim would call to invite Barbara out for dinner, or to go to a movie, and she wouldn't be there to take the call. At the same time, it usually turned out that some kind of action had taken place involving Batman and Robin, along with their female ally, Batgirl. When Barbara started to notice a distinct pattern of behavior on her dad's part, which showed a deep suspicion of her activities, she started to get a bit worried. What could she do to take him off the track?

* * * * *

Bruce Wayne was what many young ladies in Gotham City, nay, all of the state, well, maybe even the whole country, thought to be the ultimate catch. He was still young at 35, with a vital heart, and even more enticing, he was a multimillionaire with every chance of eventually becoming a billionaire. He had a perfectly fit body, with neatly trimmed black hair, that many an Olympic athlete would crave, and it was easy to see why Bruce was a girl magnet. He had to put on the false front of being a playboy dallying with many young women to keep any serious women from getting close to the truth of his existence.

The side of Bruce Wayne's life that had to be hidden from his playboy admirers was his dark side, the bane of villains everywhere, Batman. When Bruce was a youngster, his parents had been shot in front of his face, by a young hoodlum who would also show up later to give him trouble. Bruce was raised after their deaths by the family butler, Alfred Pennyworth, who ended up being more of an elder adviser than a butler to the young Mr. Wayne.

Throughout his early years of private schooling and tutoring, Bruce had been haunted by the vision of his parents being gunned down in front of him. As he matured, he vowed to put his inherited money, his acquired intelligence, and his hard earned muscular body into some way of avenging them. Becoming Batman gave Bruce the way.

For the first year or so of his activities as Batman, Bruce was a loner. He took in Dick Grayson, a young acrobat who'd lost his own parents to a contrived accident under the Big Top, almost out of pity in seeing how young Dick was going to go through the same hell he had. It was inevitable that Dick would eventually find out about the activities taking place below the mansion in which he lived, and soon Robin joined Batman in operating from the Batcave.

Dick Grayson eventually had to move away from the Wayne estate to go to University, and it was shortly after graduation that Dick adopted a newer, more adult identity, Nightwing. He stayed independent from Batman and the Wayne estate, operating both solo and occasionally in partnership with his old friend in fighting crime.

When Dick left the Mansion, Batman was once again operating alone. This did not last for long, though, as a young lad named Jason Todd stumbled across the Batcave one day, and almost by default, was then trained by Batman to be the new Robin. Jason's days as Robin did not last long, though. He fell into the hands of the Joker, the brilliant maniac who at one time earlier in his life had shot a couple of adults in an alleyway, but had to leave the kid behind alive so he could escape. Joker had no respect for human life at all, and out of sheer joy at tormenting Batman, placed the young Mr. Todd in a shack that he then blew up.

Grief and a feeling of personal responsibility for Jason's death kept Batman as a solo operator again. Soon after Nightwing came into action in Gotham City however, a young computer hacker named Tim Drake accidentally made his way into the computer in the Batcave. In short order, Batman once again had another Robin to operate at his side. The most interesting point about this was that Tim was so young, only 14 when he first donned the red and green costume, and Bruce was getting so much older. The age acquired wisdom and worldly ways of Bruce became a much-needed inspiration for the youngster. Tim was an overachieving font of energy that absorbed all he could from Bruce, and at the same time, gave Bruce a younger, more alive viewpoint on matters.

So now, whenever the Bat Signal played upon the skies over Gotham City, there were usually at least two heroes answering the call. Robin sometimes could not get away from his home because of homework or some other restriction caused by his parents, but usually made his way out of the house whenever the alert came from Batman. Sometimes Nightwing happened upon the scene, either filling in for the missing Robin or occasionally making it a three man operation. All three were more than a bit astounded to find that they eventually had a fourth partner, but it most definitely wasn't a four MAN operation.

Batgirl was looked upon by all three as a hindrance at first, just a well-built young woman in a costume, trying to butt in. Her intelligence, agility, and eagerness to help, along with her good looks, of course, soon made Batgirl an accepted member of the Bat team. She proved her worth the most when she was working with Batman, and/or any of the other guys, when their opponent was Catwoman, Poison Ivy, or any one of the other villainesses that frequented the bowels of Gotham. It sometimes took the insight of a woman to defeat the opposing woman, and Batgirl proved to have an uncanny ability to work out what the bad girls were up to. She almost seemed to be able to think the way they did.

* * * * *

Since both Barbara and Tim were both computer hackers, it followed that eventually the two would meet up in the line of their non-Bat work. Robin eventually gained the confidence of Batgirl, and she let him become the only member of the Bat Team to know her secret identity. The two seemed to share something that drew grins occasionally during before and after battle sessions. Though Barbara was ten years older than Tim, the two worked together easily. It must have been the similar energy levels of their bodies that gave them the ability to stay at it, even when Batman was starting to show signs of fatigue in long engagements. Even Nightwing, who started to view Batgirl as a lot more than a fellow crimefighter, started to tire before the seemingly similarly aged Batgirl, and the young Robin. Perhaps Mr. Grayson was partaking of a bit too much beer?

Barbara was on the computer one day, building up a database on supposedly secret 'black' weapons being developed for close-in combat, when Tim hacked in with his traditional, Yo! Babs grinned, and put the data building on hold. When Tim had her undivided attention, she zapped back a Hey! to him. Thirty minutes of idle computer chat then took place, with Barbara laughing out loud and her end and Tim having to stifle the laughter at his house so that his parents didn't come checking on him.

In the middle of one guffaw, Babs had an inspiration, and waited for Tim to finish his latest missive. She then asked him to meet her later that night on top of the Waynetech Building, presuming that the criminal element would cooperate by staying inactive. Tim made the presumption that she meant in costume, because of the location, and Barbara got yet another chuckle.

Barbara was in luck that night, as the Bat Signal stayed dark, and no alarms were sounding anywhere in the city. When Robin bounded into view, Batgirl raised her yellow gloved right hand to high five him. After exchanging a few more ribald comments, Batgirl took Robin by his shoulders and said, "Hold on, Tim. I asked you to meet me here because I have a special favor to ask. I did not trust even our secure computer lines for this. Let's sit down." An equipment locker on the roof provided a bench, and the two crime fighters took a seat.

"Tim," smiled Barbara, "I know that you and Batman must have made a breakthrough in some high-tech disguises during the past year. I even found references in the Bat Computer to Batman being able to go undercover as a notorious, well-known madam at a brothel once. Did you, yourself, ever do any disguises as a female?"

Robin grinned wide. "A year ago, after I hit 16 and Batman figured I was finally *mature* enough, he let me join him in undercover work," he told her. "You know that time that Batman was the brothel madam? Well, I was one her young whores!"

"You're kidding!" Batgirl gasped. "You were able to pass yourself off as a prostitute? How?

"I never got to the point where any sex was involved," Robin replied. "Batman had the easy part, since he's so big. He did his makeup and clothes as an older woman who'd lost a lot of her younger form, but since I'm still small of build and with a youthful face, he did me up as a slutty tart, and dressed me to match. My job was to lure johns into the brothel, and then pass them on once they'd been trapped. The closest I got to any sexual moves was one guy who flipped out his cock really fast, and almost got it into my mouth before I stopped him. I wish we had some pictures, so I could show you."

Barbara shook her head, saying, "Don't worry, Tim. I'll take your word for it. Since you have done a female part, at least once anyway, how would you like to do it one more time?"

Tim's eyes went wide. "Barbara, what do you have in mind? I didn't have any problem in working with Batman before, but if I have to go out on my own, I'm not so sure." He reached with his left hand, and placed it on her right thigh. "Would I be working with you?"

"No, Tim," she said, "at least, not directly. I have a problem with my dad suspecting that Batgirl might be a part of his family. I'm going to try and show him that his suspicions are groundless. How would you like to be Batgirl tomorrow evening, while I'm at dinner with my dad?"

"Gee, I don't know, Babs. Trying to fill in as you might call for a pretty hefty acting job," he told her. "Before, I was expertly made up by the master of disguise, Batman, and was in a reasonably controlled situation. What you're calling for sounds a bit more hairy!"

"Oh, come on, Tim! You were in makeup with your whole head visible that time," Barbara argued. "For just a brief period tomorrow night, you'd be in makeup and under a cowl hiding your head. You could do it, I know you could. You've got the balls, well, maybe for tomorrow night you wouldn't want them, hee, hee," she giggled. "You know, you have the ability to pull this off without a hitch! And I'll have you know that Batman isn't the only master of disguise around here. I'll bet none of you know about the undercover work that I've done over the past few years."

"Really?" Tim said, as his interest shot up. "You'll have to tell me about that some time."

A revelation suddenly dawned upon the young man. "Hey, we could do this! You and I are almost the same height, and I'm not a whole lot bigger than you in physical proportions. But then," Tim snickered, "you do seem to be a bit bigger than me in a few dimensions!"

"I can get everything we need to take care of that problem," Babs said between laughs. "I don't want even Batman to know what's going down, so we can't use any of the disguise materials on hand in the Batcave. I've got a pretty well equipped disguise department of my own, that you and Batman are unaware of, at least so far. What size shoe do you wear, Tim?"

"I'm wearing a size 7 boot," Robin answered. "When I played a hooker, Batman had me in, let me think, yeah, size 8 high heels." He looked down at his raised right foot, then added, "I don't think my feet have gotten any bigger since then."

"That's great! I was worried that I'd have to scrounge up some yellow boots in your size, but it looks like you're the same size as me. And since you've had experience in heels, I guess you won't have any problem in these boots," she told him as she lifted her own right foot, which had a four inch spike heel projecting from it.

"Okay, Tim. Here's what we'll do. Tomorrow after school, come over to the downtown main branch of the Gotham City Library. I'll be in the reference section on the third floor. Come to my desk, and then we'll head for my apartment. Find some way to clear it with your dad to be out tomorrow night."

"Okay, Barbara. I think I can work up some lame excuse like a club meeting or something. I've had a lot of experience in coming up with excuses for being out of the house!" he told her. "One thing I will grab from the Batcave is a voice modifier, though. I can't do a feminine voice on my own."

"Good thinking, Tim," she said. "I hadn't thought of that, somehow. If you're going to meet up with anybody and have to say anything, that could have been an easy giveaway. See ya tomorrow afternoon!"

"I can't wait, Barb! Watch for me!"

By the time Batgirl and Robin left the rooftop of the WayneTech Building, it was 8:30 in the evening. Barbara made quick time in getting back to her apartment, because she had some shopping to do, and didn't want to do it in costume. One lightning fast change from black spandex to a blue cotton pullover over figure hugging jeans later, Babs was a good looking young woman instead of a costumed crime fighter. She brushed out her hair after pulling off the wig, and tied some sneakers onto her feet. Emerging from the door in the back of her closet, she grabbed a light jacket to ward off the chill setting in as the night deepened.

Barbara made her way to a mastectomy shop just before closing, and the clerk was more than happy to make that large a sale, even if it did mean shutting down the cash register a bit later than planned. Babs knew that silicone breast forms could be had at any of a number of adult bookstores in the seedier parts of Gotham, but here at the shop, the forms she found cost less than half of what the specialist forms cost.

The clerk never even bothered to question Barbara about her need for the huge forms. She took one look at Barbara's hooters, and figured that the poor girl must have had a breast removed at some point, and was keeping herself in form. That was the other reason Babs went to the mastectomy shop. It was almost normal, a given, that she would be there doing business. At one of the adult shops, she'd be looked upon quite a bit differently.

Barbara knew this for a fact. She'd been in enough of the shops, while in disguise herself.

The rest of the supplies that were needed for the following day's activities were already on hand in the mini-Batcave, with one exception. For this, Babs did have to go to one of the adult bookstores. From experience, she knew which one to check. It had a large fetish clothing department in a side shop adjacent to the main book and magazine section. The look on the cashier's face as Barbara handed him the false vagina padded latex panties was exquisite. He knew for sure that the cute redhead in front of him just had to be a demanding dominatrix who worked with sissy femme boys. Why else would she be buying them?

On the way back from the fetish shop, Babs got a bit of a wanderlust urge, and just figured she'd see where she ended up. If nothing else, the drive would help to relax her. Driving almost on reflex, Barbara just meandered about. On an impulse, she made a turn and somehow found herself in an unfamiliar section of the city. Her car approached a shoe store with an empty parking lot, and something made her want to stop there. When she entered the otherwise empty shop, the shoe clerk smiled at her.

"Miss Gordon, isn't it?"

"How did you know my name?" she asked, puzzled.

He laughed. "Your picture has been in the papers, hasn't it?"

She shrugged. That had to be it. She'd been at her father's side during a number of awards ceremonies. Babs then caught sight of the footwear. Great, sexy looking footwear. Scanning the arrayed pairs of shoes and boots, she muttered to herself, "Geez, now I know where Catwoman gets her boots. Look at these things..."

She was drawn to one pair in particular -- an attractive pair of shiny red vinyl boots with what looked like at least six inch stiletto heels. She lifted one to inspect it. Barbara saw that though it had laces up the front for effect, it also had a zipper down the inner side for easy on-off. When she looked at the bottom of the sole, and saw the price of $125.00 on the tag, marked down from $300.00, she whistled, then said, "I've just got to get these!"

The clerk happened to walk up at just that moment, and said, "Do you like those boots, ma'am? They set off your hair nicely. Would you like me to see if we have them in your size?"

Barbara handed him the boot so that he could get the model number from the tag, and said, "Yes, please. I fell in love when I first saw them. I wear a size 7."

He took the boot, got the number, and then set it back down with its mate. "Size 7? I'll go check. Hang on a minute."

While the clerk was hunting, Babs looked around some more. She found a pair of thigh high vinyl boots with an inside zip that stretched to fit, and the sign next them said they were available in a number of colors. Barbara made a mental note in her photographic memory to come back at some point and check out the supply of these in her size. She was just picking up a pair of black ballet toed ankle boots when the clerk came out of the back room with two boxes in his hands. She set them back down, and turned to greet him.

"Looks like you found them," Babs said. "What's with the two boxes? Do you want me to try on different sizes or something?"

Motioning to the seat, the clerk told her, "Oh, heaven forbid, ma'am. If you say you are a tiny size 7, I'm sure you are. I found your boots in red, like you wanted, and also in black. I brought them both, just in case I could persuade you to take them both."

Barbara grinned, and said, "Well, I suppose my plastic is in shape to take a beating. Why not!"

He smiled charmingly. "Why not, indeed!"

Barbara untied the laces on her sneakers, then pulled them off and set them aside. The clerk lifted the red boots from the box, then unzipped each and pulled the stiffeners from the insides. He then knelt in front of Babs and slipped her right foot into a boot, and zipped it up. The left boot soon followed. Babs loved the tight feel they had, clinging to her calves. She couldn't believe how easily her feet fit in the boots! They seemed to caress her feet like no other shoes had before. They felt so comfortable, and on such high heels, too!

As the clerk leaned back, still in a crouch, Babs stood. Her jeans fell back down to cover the boots down to her ankles, but the heels made her feel so good. The increase in height she took on made her feel regal. The four inch heels on her yellow costume boots were almost lame compared to these.

"These boots feel divine!" she told him. "Am I ever glad that you brought out the black ones, also." As she started to take a few steps in her unbelievably high heels, Barbara quivered ever so slightly for a moment, then got her bearings and minced with short steps over to a vertical mirror. She could not see the way the stilettos made her ass and hips wiggle in a much sexier manner.

The clerk rose while she was walking like a whore on the prowl, and whistled. "You do look like a goddess in those boots, ma'am. I'm glad you like them."

Babs twisted and turned in the mirror, admiring the shape coming out from below her jeans. "Like them? I love them! Would you please put my sneakers in that box? I'm going to wear these home!"

As the clerk reached down for the sneakers, he smiled, and said, "Wonderful, step on over to the register, and I'll take care of you."

When the happy young lady left the shop gloating over her great boots, and what a steal they had been, the clerk's smile widened, and took on a satanic sneer.

"Enjoy your boots, my dear Batgirl. I think they will broaden your life -- yes, I think you will find them very exciting! Very exciting, indeed!"

Barbara had to be careful on the drive back to her apartment. The angle her feet were at compared to the gas pedal was quite a bit different from anything she'd done before. She just couldn't get over the feelings she got from the boots. They were just divine. After parking her Toyota in the designated spot for her apartment, Babs stepped out and proceeded to walk across the pavement. In her new boots, she noticed that she did indeed have to take shorter steps, but that meant even more clicks of the heels on the pavement. She just loved it! Disregarding the elevator, Babs decided to walk up the stairs to the second floor.

Once inside, Babs went to her desk and picked up a ruler. On the way back to the couch, she passed her phone, and saw the blinking answer light. Setting the ruler down, she made sure the volume was turned up, and then pressed the play button. "Hi, Babs, it's dad. I hope you haven't gone and made other plans for tomorrow evening. I'm still looking forward to treating you to a dinner at Maxie's. Call me when you get in. Bye!" Picking up the phone and the ruler, Barbara made her way to the couch and sat down. She punched the phone number for her dad, then stuck the phone between her chin and her shoulder.

While listening to the bell ringing at her dad's end, Babs put the ruler against the heel of her left boot. She was just getting ready to whistle and say, "Six and a half inches!" when her dad said, "Gordon residence," and she had to say instead, "Hi, daddy! It's me, Babs. I just got your message."

"Are you still meeting me for dinner tomorrow night?"

"Yes, dad. I wouldn't miss it for the world. I've made sure to arrange everything else around it." She smiled, thinking about how she would trick her dad.

"Okay, great. I won't bother to ask where you were earlier when I called. You're a woman with your own life to live, and I hope you were having some fun."

Thinking that he must have thought Batgirl was out in action again, Babs then thought to herself, 'You don't want to now what kind of fun I was having,' then said, "Oh, daddy, you worry too much. I can take care of myself! I was just out shopping, and bought the most divine boots!"

Knowing just how well Batgirl could take care of herself, Jim said, "I know, sweetheart. I just worry sometimes that you might be getting in over your head. See you tomorrow!"

"Good night, daddy! Love you!"

"Love you, too. Bye bye."

Babs heard the click in the phone line, and set it down on the couch. She picked up the bag from the mastectomy shop and pulled out the box. She hadn't realized earlier just how heavy it was. Then, on a thought, she reached under her own breasts and hefted them. "Yeah, I'd say they got the weight about right," she giggled. She opened the box, then noted for the first time that the forms were more than realistic in weight. They even had molded in aureoles, with raised nipples. "Hmm," she muttered.

Barbara opened up the box with the panties in it. She saw that they were obviously intended to be worn by males who were wannabe females. There was a built in restraining gaffe to hold the penis while folded back between the legs, and the slit in the vagina led to a tunnel which could be lubricated to simulate a real vagina. It even had what appeared to be stubble around what liked for all the world like a shaved pussy. The padding in the sides and back would fill out Tim's hips and ass, giving him a more feminine shape. Babs just knew that Tim was going to love this one.

The two boot boxes were next, and Babs picked the lighter of the two. She took her sneakers out, then unzipped her new red boots. Rezipping and then folding each boot in half, she put them in the box, then put her sneakers back on. She gathered up the boxes, grabbed her jacket, then went to the closet in her bedroom. The jacket went on a hanger, then Barbara reached behind it to open the doorway.

Flipping on the light switch as she entered her hideaway, Babs then walked over to the dressing table and set down the two boxes. The red boots were taken from their box, and then stood up on the rack next to her other boots, adding to the collection. She had to get the stiffeners out of the black ones, but before she set them on the rack with the others, Babs had an idea. "I wonder," she muttered.

Babs set the black boots on the dressing table, and pulled off her sneakers. She then stripped out of her regular clothes. She even took off her bra, because she didn't want it to show. Barbara walked over to the costume rack, and took down a long sleeved black lycra spandex leotard with high cut French legs. She also grabbed a pair of suntan shaded glossy pantyhose, some black fishnet tights, and her elbow length black gloves.

She sat at her dressing table, then Babs slid on the hose, bringing the waist up past her own. She loved this brand of hose for the way they made her legs shine. Over these she pulled on the fishnets, and the effect of the hose below them was just what she'd hoped it would be.

She then stood, and slipped her legs through the leg holes of the leotard. As she pulled the leotard up over her torso, the French cut legs showed almost all of her hips, reaching almost to her waist. Barbara felt the leotard pulling in her stomach and waist. The deep V in front showed off her abundant chest nicely, with plenty of nicely rounded cleavage showing. It was made of a special brand of spandex that Barbara had nabbed from Catwoman after one of their escapades, sort of a fortunes of war type thing. She'd made the leotard a few months earlier, and this was the first time she'd gotten around to trying it on.

Barbara then slid her feet into the black boots for the first time. She felt the same electrifying feeling she'd felt when trying on the red ones at the shop. They just felt so divine! No, not divine, wicked! Delightfully wicked. Wicked? Where did that thought come from? She did feel somehow quite different from her normal, rational self.

Barbara stood, then took short regal steps to her wig rack. She picked up her wig cap and pulled it on over her short red hair, tucking it all in. Next to her long red Batgirl wig was a waist length black wig. She picked it up off the wig stand, and placed it over her head. Babs then went back to her dressing table and sat down, carefully placing her hair behind the seat. Why did she feel like she was on autopilot?

Babs got out her makeup kit, and with a black eyebrow pencil, started working over her red eyebrows, until they were charcoal black. A black eyeshadow was used, and a black eyeliner completed the effort of surrounding her eyes in black. Barbara reached for a brush, and shaded her cheeks with a deep rouge. She applied ruby red lipstick to her lips, then coated them with a lipgloss sealer. Babs licked her lips, then blotted them. She looked into the mirror, and thought, 'I know this is a disguise, but who am I? I don't recognize myself!'

Almost without any control now, Babs stood up and pulled the gloves over her hands and arms. She walked over to the cowl rack, and reached with a black clad hand for an evil looking black domino mask. It had been another war prize from Catwoman, one the feline felon had worn a few years earlier with an older costume. Barbara placed the mask over her eyes, noting the way the eyeholes covered all the skin around her eyes so that the black eyeshadow met black mask in one uniform blend. She reached behind her head, lifted her hair up, and pulled the elastic of the mask up and over it. After letting her hair fall back down over the band, she took a brush and combed it out.

When she took a look at herself in the mirror, the black clad vixen said, "I know who I am! I am Catgirl! Meowwwrrrr!!!"

Catgirl went through Batgirl's utility belt, looking for items she could use. She then went through the drawers of the weapons locker, and found a few more. One more of Catwoman's old toys was added to her armory, a twenty foot long bullwhip. Catgirl wrapped the whip around her waist, and then up and over a shoulder, then back down and through the binding around her waist.

She found a wide black belt in Batgirl's disguise collection, and a small black hand purse. The purse was strung onto the belt, and then the belt was put in place over her hips, well below the waist. The gadgets she'd nabbed from Batgirl's utility belt and weapons drawer were then placed into the purse, now a weapons kit on her hip.

Barbara should have been more careful. The feelings she'd noticed earlier in the evening while wearing the red boots, making her feel so regal and proud, should have warned her. Then, using materials originally belonging to Catwoman, added to the intoxicating effect of the black boots, had combined with the nearly criminal mind that made Batgirl so effective, to alter her personality completely. Babs was no longer a heroine, but the most evil of villainesses.

Catgirl made her way to the doorway leading out of the hideaway, and flipped down the walkway. Her well-trained and agile body had no problem getting to the ladder, and she quickly made her way down to ground level. She took one look at the Batcycle, and scowled. Fortunately for her, Barbara had a second bike on hand, just for emergencies when the Batcycle might be out of service. Catgirl took the jet black Yamaha out of the shed, and wheeled it to the doorway. She wanted to make damned sure nobody saw her leaving.

Catgirl saw nothing after she poked her head through the swinging doors. She eased the bike onto the street, then climbed onto it and cranked it up. The muffling system installed on all the Bat bikes and potential Bat bikes gave her a speed demon that hardly made a sound. The few people that looked up upon hearing a soft whispering sound were greeted with the sight of an incredibly sexy, black clad vixen with coal black hair streaming behind her head as she sped down the road.

At first, Catgirl was driving her cycle aimlessly, thinking she would just hit a target of opportunity. Then a sudden urge struck her, and she made a sharp right turn. Catgirl brought the black Yamaha to a halt behind the Gotham Diamond Exchange. Reaching into her weapons kit, she extracted a spray bottle of acid. The area around the handle dissolved, giving her the ability to hit the locking mechanism itself with the acid.

In no time, Catgirl had the door open, and was slinking in softly, keeping her heels from clicking, until she was sure no guards were on hand. Seeing no one, she pranced more casually, proudly making her heels announce her progress. When she found the display case holding the collection on loan from the Prince of Monaco, Catgirl stopped.

She pulled a glass cutter from the weapons kit, and made a hole in the display case. Reaching in with her black clad right hand, Catgirl gingerly picked up the only item there without any diamonds on it, a Cat's Eye Jade, which stood out among the rest. She nabbed a diamond encrusted, four inch long Persian Cat, a brooch in the shape of a cat's head that was ringed with diamonds, and a diamond necklace with a ruby tiger attached. These were placed into a soft packet, then placed into her weapons kit.

Just as she was turning to leave the building, Catgirl heard the clash of alarms going off. She had to hurry. Just before she got to the door, she heard a shout, "Halt! Stand where you are, and don't move!"

Catgirl had no intention of doing so, and stepped behind a pillar adjacent to the door. As the guard approached, she unraveled the whip from around her body, and jumped out in front of him. At just that moment, every light in the building came on, and the guard saw the image of a black demoness. She flexed her arm, and the whip came crashing against the gun in his right hand.

"I don't think you'll be wanting to use that toy, little boy!" Catgirl yelled out. "I've got what I want, so I'm going to get out of your hair. If anyone wonders who the black goddess was in the pictures that I'm sure are being taken right now, tell them that Catgirl was here. Meowwrrrrr!!!" On that note, Catgirl slipped out the door and made her way back to the bike. She was gone, on a whispering comet, before anyone even looked outside.

Catgirl made her way back to her lair via a roundabout route, just in case anyone had spotted her. Satisfied that she was unobserved, she parked the bike in the shed, then climbed back up the ladder. At the top, she again flipped down the walkway, then proudly pranced back to her lair. She opened the doorway and entered, without raising the walkway.

Catgirl hid all her loot inside a shoebox under the table, except for the Cat's Eye Jade. This she decided to mount at the bottom of the V formed on the front of her leotard. Once it was in place, her eyes became glued to it, as if they were entranced. Catgirl briefly became one of the most malevolently garbed mannequins ever seen, but after a few minutes, nodded her head, as if coming to a realization. She then started to disrobe, carefully putting all of the weapons back where she'd found them, and all the costume parts back in place on the rack and shelves.

Back in Barbara's clothes, she then left her lair to go back into her apartment. The black makeup was washed away from her eyes, but the rouge on the cheeks and the lipstick were forgotten.

Catgirl then went to bed, since it was midnight and she was getting tired. Luckily, Barbara had reset her alarm clock the morning before after shutting it off, and so, the occupant of the bed was going to be roused from her slumber in less than six hours. What Catgirl didn't know, though, was that the items that gave her an existence only did so while being worn. She didn't know that she would not wake up.

Barbara was troubled by some fascinating nightmares that evening. She kept seeing herself as an evil villainess, creating havoc and working alongside her partner, Catwoman. The tone of the nightmares eventually faded, and when the alarm brought Barbara out of her slumber, she rubbed her eyes and wondered why she still felt so tired. After she reset her alarm clock for the next morning, Babs slipped her legs out from under the covers and dropped them over the side of her bed. She put off the tiredness as a side effect of the bad nightmares she'd had. She remembered tossing and turning, but couldn't recall any of the details.

When Barbara slipped into the bathroom to relieve herself and take her morning shower, she noted the extreme makeup on her cheeks and lips. "Funny, I don't recall going out last night," she said to herself. It should have made more of an impact on her. Babs ignored it, and took a shower to start her day. She was looking forward to the afternoon and evening.

* * * * *

Tim Drake went directly home after the meeting with Batgirl. His next day at school was typical. None of the classes came close to challenging him, and he had to fight off the boredom that kept creeping in. The after-school games and team practices were skipped out on, as he sometimes did. Tim missed them so often that his absence didn't even raise any eyebrows anymore. If they'd known that Robin was out on duty all those times Tim was gone, maybe somebody might have said something. Tim was careful, however, to avoid any references to the boy wonder at school.

As he'd done on a number of occasions, Tim proceeded home and changed into his costume. The red top with short billowing green sleeves over green tights, with a cape that was gold on the inside and blue on the outside, was a big improvement over the old Robin costume, Tim thought. He even considered his leg coverings as tight fitting pants, not tights; after all, they were heavily lined with Kevlar armor, along with the rest of the costume. How could anyone consider Kevlar as tights?

Sneaking out of his house as easily as he'd snuck in, Tim made his way to the hidden Redbird, his own personal Batcycle. Sliding the red helmet over his head, Tim made sure all the com links were working by setting up the Gotham City police channel. Just as it was concluding, he caught a reference to a heist the night before by Catgirl. "Catgirl?" he wondered aloud. He'd have to check up on that later. Once he was zipping down the highway, Robin keyed in the Batcave on the radio.

Pleased as punch that he heard no traffic, meaning that Bruce was probably out of the cave, either on a case or at work, Robin called in to Alfred. He told Alfred that he needed to come in to the cave and do some work in the Bat Computer. Alfred set the alarms to watch for the Redbird, and then told Robin to have fun.

After parking the Redbird next to the Batmobile, Robin took off his helmet and set it on the seat. The first thing he did was to boot up the computer, just in case Alfred came checking, then Tim proceeded to the disguise locker. He found the voice modifier he'd used in his last go as a female, then brought it over to the computer. The modifier had been programmed for a soprano with a light southern accent, and Tim knew just what he wanted to do with it now. He hooked the modifier to the computer's leads, then pulled up a recording of Batgirl's voice.

The computer went to work in analyzing the timber, pitch, tones and other peculiarities of Barbara's voice, then inserted them into the voice modifier. As a test, Tim then popped it into the back of his mouth and said a few words for the computer. He really didn't need to wait for it to tell him so, he knew Barbara's voice well enough to know that it was Barbara he'd just heard talking. Sure enough, the computer confirmed that for him. The modifier was then popped back out of his mouth, and went back into its container. To cover his tracks, Tim then erased from the computer's memory any reference to the actions he'd just taken.

Tim then asked the computer to access any data collected from the GCPD on the heist he'd heard about. He told it to specifically key in on the name, Catgirl. In moments, the computer was pouring out police reports about the break in, the goods stolen, and pictures taken at the scene by security cameras. He had to admit, the vixen he saw in the pictures sure looked wicked enough, almost like a younger version of Catwoman. The report said she called herself Catgirl, so maybe there was some connection. Nothing else was available, since the culprit had disappeared right away, without any trace.

Robin shut down the computer, picked up the container and tucked it into his belt, then got word up to Alfred that he was leaving. The old man gave a bright, "Cheerio," and then Tim put his helmet back on, strapped himself onto the Redbird, and zipped out of the Batcave. The short trip back to his house gave no indication that anything at all was happening that afternoon in Gotham.

* * * * *

Break to a high cost high rise in downtown Gotham. Inside one of the penthouse suites, we see a woman with a long raven mane and the ultimate in voluptuous bodies, soaking in a bubble bath in an antique stand alone bathtub. This woman was at least one other interested party that caught the notice about the robbery the night before by Catgirl. Selina Kyle was enjoying her soak when the news on the TV broke to the robbery story. When she heard about the heist on a target that she herself had planned on hitting, Catwoman took notice. She sat bolt upright in the tub, her eyes and ears glued to the TV set.

"Catgirl? Who the hell is Catgirl?" she screamed, loud enough to scare away two of her pet kitties that were sleeping in the bathroom doorway. The image she saw that was taken from the security cameras made her grin. "At least the young upstart has got the body and the costume to fit the name!" Catwoman would have to watch for any more appearances of her namesake.

In what may or may not be a shoe store, a man heard the same news, and smiled with satisfaction as he rubbed his hands together. It looked like Barbara Gordon was enjoying her purchases. That was good. Very Good.

* * * * *
On to the conclusion of the story
 

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