Part 2: Meeting the Professor
Batgirl had no idea how long she was asleep. Things came back in fuzzy at first, but she saw nothing. In times past she had heard the cracking laughter of Joker or Harley Quinn when she was coming out of one of these stupors. Sometimes she felt the caring touch of Batman or Robin.
Or the erotic touch of Catwoman and her kittens.
Her back was cold. She was laying on something hard and flat, but not quite horizontally. The pressure of the plastic webbing was gone, but she still couldn’t move her arms or legs. It was dark above her, but with patches of white light which she assumed were florescent light fixtures. Why couldn’t she move? Her costume felt a little tighter across the chest. And what were those sounds, so many of them.
When she came to herself, she realized she was lying on a stainless steel table. The table was pitched at about a 30 degree angle, with her head up. Her body was anchored down by leather straps at her wrists, arms, chest, waist, thighs, knees and ankles. She tried to squirm from their grip but was unable to move a muscle. She was trapped to the examining table.
At least she still had her costume on, and her cowling.
Her senses cleared and she looked around the room. It appeared to be a laboratory of some kind, but hardly makeshift. Large racks of chemist glass were in one area, with dozens of colored chemicals at the ready and a few boiling or smoking over flames. A vent hood above captured the fumes. Another area had various parts and circuits boards laying about, being assembled or torn apart for investigation.
Directly in front of her was a large glass tube, similar to the one she had been trapped in but covered with several devices and a large glass pole down its center. Perhaps some kind of torture chamber or a new death trap that was under construction.
All hopes for a quick escape faded when Batgirl saw, on a stainless steal bench straight across, her utility belt, her gauntlets and her cape draped across a chair back.
With her belt gone from her hips and well out of her current reach, the tools she needed to cut through the leather straps were not available. Even the secret homing signal, one that alerted Batman she needed help, was useless.
Batgirl was in serious trouble.
She looked to the right and noticed she was not alone. A woman was sitting in a chair, facing away from her table. She was seated in front of several monitors, some of them looking medical and others computer screen readouts. She had a pen in her hand and was taking notes, either not noticing or not caring Batgirl was awake.
The woman wore a white lab coat that was not buttoned close and short black leather skirt, which barely covered her bottom. Exposed garter straps were connect to sheer nude stockings. Her blond hair was up in a bun on the back of her head, but a few strategic strangles hung down to frame her face.
On her feet were sexy black pumps with 5 inch stiletto heels and wide leather ankles straps. On further examination, the straps weren’t just buckled or tied in place. The straps were secured around her ankles with mini padlocks. In addition, a thin chrome chain ran between the locks, turning her sexy non-removable foot ware into a set of affective ankle bindings.
Barbara Gordon wondered if they came in her size.
The woman at last put her pen down and stood up and faced Batgirl. She was strikingly beautiful, with a face that should be on magazine covers and movie screens across the world, not in a derelict building looking over computer screens. Batgirl knew the face, especially the big green eyes, but with the after affects of the knock out gas still slowing her sharp mind, she could not place it with a name. Maybe she was a model or actress or even one of Gotham City’s socialites she’d met before.
Under her coat was a black leather bustier, accented with sparkly studs that barely contained her large bosom. It tapered down to tightly fit around her slim waist. The beautiful garment must have been an expensive custom made unit, for it fit her perfectly without pushing extra skin out from under it. Though it appeared her body was in such good shape, there would be no extra body fat or skin to cause any concern. Her lingerie proved a strange contrast to the clean white lab coat and the images of science it invokes.
Was this of some kind of bazaar pornography movie set and Batgirl in the staring role?
She walked gracefully over to the exam table as if she was on a fashion model runway and placed a finger on Batgirls neck to check her pulse. Next, a stethoscope was used to listen to Batgirl’s heart and lungs. She then peered into the trapped hero’s eyes with a bright light. She did all of this without saying a word.
Judging from her footwear, Batgirl surmised that she was not the criminal inventor she was looking for. In fact, she was more likely to be another reluctant prisoner rather than an enthusiastic or even willing assistant, maybe affected by drugs or Stockholm syndrome.
Batgirl decided to take a chance.
“Who are you?” Batgirl asked.
She made no response.
“Will you help me escape?” Batgirl asked.
She still made no response while making notes on a clipboard.
“I can help you. I’ll make sure you’ll get out as well.”
Still no response.
“By the chains on you ankles, I see you’re a captive too. Help me and we either can escape or at least call for help before anyone notices.” Batgirl remained calm, trying to get the idea across to the women they were the ones in control and could make an escape happen.
But still she got no response from the woman.
“At least tell me your name.”
The woman looked at the trapped hero. Something stirred in her at last.
“Please.” Batgirl added softly but not begging. She didn’t want to show any weakness.
“Annie” she finally replied. Her voice was so soft and sweet.
“Annie” Batgirl replied softly. Then she remembered, her mind finally clear of the affects of the gas. “Annie Goodbody?!?”
The woman looked shocked at someone knowing her name. She nodded slightly.
Annie Goodbody, the missing Miss Gotham City contestant from last year’s beauty pageant. She was the favorite to win but disappeared from the contest just moments after she was announced as one of the finalists, leaving everything behind. Foul play was suspected but no evidence was discovered and no one ever saw or heard from the blond beauty again.
Batgirl investigated the disappearance, guessing one of the super criminals (namely Catwoman) had kidnapped the beauty and was going to make a ransom demand. It was rumored that Bruce Wayne had already rounded up millions to make the payment for her safe return. When the demand never came, it was assumed Annie must have cracked under the pressure of the contest and simply ran off, even though she had appeared in several similar contests. Batgirl never believed the conclusion, but had no evidence to prove it wrong or Catwoman’s involvement, nor devised a better theory for the woman’s disappearance.
This was certainly an unexpected turn of events.
“Annie, there’s not time to discuss this. Help me out of these restraints.”
“I can’t.” she replied softly.
“Why?” Batgirl asked, noticing she didn’t say no but that she couldn’t.
“I, I just, I can’t.” she said, almost fighting with herself.
“We’ll be gone before anyone can stop us. Annie, I can get you out of here, get you back home. I’ll protect you, please trust me.”
Bargirl could see the internal struggle going on in the woman’s mind. But in the end, it came to nothing.
“I, I’m sorry, I’m not allowed to help you.” she finally replied as she walked back to her console and dialed a phone. She sat down, purposely not looking at Batgirl in her restraints. “She’s awake.” She said and returned the phone to the cradle. The struggle continued on, but the desire to do right never came through.
Batgirl thought the choice of words ‘can’t’ and ‘allowed’ were unusual, considering Annie must be just as much a captive as she was. Batgirl filed that away for hopeful future use as she wondered how and why the beauty queen came to be at this place at this time.
Moments later, a freight elevator opened and a man stepped out. He was tall and thin, much too thin to match his height, the result of many hours of work and not taking care of himself. Mid 30s in age, he was very pale from the lack sunshine, but still possessed a full head of black curly hair. He wore geeky bi-focal glasses but his eyes were keen and alert. He walked quickly, like he was running late. He placed something on one of the tables, then checked his bubbling chemicals and made a frown, adjusting the mixtures. Next, he looked over Miss Goodbody’s notes and reviewed the monitors. Finally, he quickly stepped over to the helpless heroine.
He grinned wildly and rubbed his hands as he looked over her restrained figure. From the look on his face, Batgirl suspected this was a majestic moment for him. She also feared she was going to be the subject of his next experiment.
“I assume it’s the Professor I’m addressing.” Batgirl said, taking the initiative and still defiant even in the face of near hopelessness. This was nothing new for her.
“You are correct Batgirl. Many call me by that name so you may as well, for lack of any better.” He spoke as quickly as he walked. He seemed to be a very energetic guy at all times. “Welcome to my laboratory and research facility. I’m so happy you are finally here.”
Batgirl wondered what he meant by ‘finally here’.
“I can’t say I’m very happy to be here.” She replied. “You’ve proven to be a lousy host. Maybe you’ll give me the nickel tour to make amends.”
“In good time, my dear.” He replied. “The nickel tour, that’s very amusing.”
“I demand you release me at once.”
“Oh no, that won’t do. I’ve gone through a lot of trouble to bring you here. To let you go would spoil all my plans for us and end my work here. Besides the fact that my personal liberties would be at risk and I’d have to relocate my operations preclude that. Do you have any idea how much work that would be?”
He may be a genius, but he was babbling like an idiot.
“What do you mean by you brought me here? I came on my own, looking for you.” Batgirl replied.
He smiled again. “Oh yes, true, but thanks to the brilliant trail I left you for.”
“What trail? What are you talking about?”
“I correctly suspected you were investigating me, so I planted a few little items in the police and public works departments’ computers to help you track me down. It was quite easy, the security on their systems were so trivial. Shall I tell how I did it, it’s very intriguing.” He seemed to enjoy talking, even if it resulted in giving out secrets.
“Perhaps some other time.” Batgirl replied, wondering why the always monolog. “Let’s get back to why you want me to find you.”
“Why my dear, it’s so obvious why, anyone can see that. So I could capture you!”
“So I see and I’m quite flattered, but the question remains why?”
“Because, my dear Batgirl, to complete my goal of possessing you.”
A chill ran down her Batgirl’s spine, colder than the table she was strapped to.
“Possess me? I’m not property you can just own!”
“Oh, virtually all the world's people are owned by someone, silly girl. Many are owned by spouses, corporations, governments and such. Only a small minority of the world population are the owners. The rest of the world’s peoples are nothing more than commodities that are bought and sold at a whim, but very little money is ever involved. You are all pawns in the great game of life for the powerful like me to control and own.”
“So you think. And you just expect me to be a pawn and go alone with you ideas for me.”
“Why, of course I do, Barbara.”
Batgirl did her best conceal her surprise at hearing her real name.
“I’m sorry, you called me who?”
He leaned in close.
“I called you by your real name, Miss Barbara Gordon, daughter of Police Commissioner James Gordon and Director of the Gotham City Public Library System.”
He knew who she was!
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t insult my intelligence.” He sneered, then calmed down. “I fully admit that like many of the inferior dregs of Gotham City, I have an unhealthy Batgirl obsession, but what male living doesn’t. But unlike those simple minds, that does not mean I wouldn’t act on it. Since the first time I saw your picture in the paper, your enchanting body incased in your tight purple costume and high heels, I could not stop thinking about you. I stood by you once near police headquarters, so close I actually touched your thigh, but you didn’t know that I was the one that had done it. It was a magical transforming moment. Since that day, I knew I needed to have you for myself and have been arranging ever since make you my own.”
Not only was her captor evil, he was loony and a stalker too.
“I set out to find out everything I could about you. I have quite a collection of news articles and television reports about you. I made a careful plan of how I could discover your true identity. I thought it a tough challenge at first but it was simpler that you can guess. I digitally scanned as many pictures of you as I could find and was able to create a three dimensional computer rendition of your body with precise measurements and calculations. I then ran the results against several other women displayed throughout the media. I surmised that you must be of some importance around Gotham City, inside the inner circle of politics or society and would appear at some point in the news are your real self.”
So far, his monolog had pegged her correctly. As Barbara Gordon, she avoided the press as best she could. But she liked being in the press as Batgirl, having her comments and picture appear on the evening news and front page. Little did Barbara dream it would be the media that would help bring her true identity to light.
“The first few months were a futile search. There we’re many that were similar but nothing as exact as I knew my process could predict and I had other projects to attend to. What really threw my estimates off was your bright red hair, for I erroneously assumed it to be natural. Also, you did a fine job wearing street clothing that hid much of you fantastic womanly figure.”
Barbara had taken great pains to make the red hair appearing to flow out of her cowling to be natural. Even the media often referred to her as the red-headed crusader.
“But I made the discovery a few weeks ago, no at least 2 months or more as I remember, of who you were from the society page.” He said as he opened a binder. “This picture appeared in the paper, a nice full color photo of you and, um, oh yes, Bruce Wayne at some charity event or something else as useless.”
The Professor showed Batgirl pictures clipped from several newspapers, one of many in the binder. It was a series of shots taken a fund raiser for the library system for the annual children’s reading program. Being the director, she had to attend and Bruce Wayne, being the biggest contributor, was her date for the evening. As he often did, Bruce sent over a very expensive evening gown for her to wear. This one was a long formal halter style dress of gold metallic that fit very snuggly against her body, even down to her ankles but exposed her entire back to her waist. Bruce also sent a pair of gold high heel sandals to match. It was classy, elegant and sexy as hell and excited Barbara threw caution aside. Both she and Bruce were very pleased with the results. Bruce took a long time removing it later that night at Wayne Manor, mesmerized at how she looked clad in the exquisite gown and not wanting the vision to end so quickly, finally stripping her of it to only a small golden g-string and her heels when she promised to wear it for him one evening soon for a private viewing. The photographers took the pictures so quickly and unexpectedly upon their arrival, Barbara had no time to hide or discourage it from happening.
“As you can see, this dress shows off you figure very well. I downloaded the digital pictures from the newspapers and ran my calculations, compensating for variances in your dress, which were few. It was perfect match and I knew I had my Batgirl, but I still cross checked with other sources to verify. I took series of high resolution digital pictures of you leaving the library one evening. The conclusion was the same and all doubt was erased.”
He had her pegged. But she wasn’t giving up yet.
“You’re crazy, Professor. Now release me before you make things worse for yourself.”
“I’m crazy? Let’s see who’s right.” With that, he gently pulled off the cowling. Gone was the bright red hair, the purple covering and the black mask, exposing the face of Barbara Gordon.
Busted.
“You will find my calculations are never wrong.” he said. “And you are still a very beautiful woman even with out the mask. I chose my obsessions well.”
Barbara knew that this day would come. Most of the criminals didn’t care who she was under the mask, they just wanted Batgirl (and the Dynamic Duo) out of the way for a while or better yet dead. Knowing who they were mattered little, for what good was that knowledge if the Bats were still in the business of putting criminals out of business. Better to just eliminate the threat and move on.
Barbara looked over at Annie Goodbody, who was looking on with sad interest. Maybe knowing Batgirl was just an ordinary woman, like herself, would motivate her to help. A long shot perhaps, but maybe something would stir in her yet.
“Fine, so you know who I am. Congratulations, for what it’s worth. That doesn’t mean I’m going to go along with the distorted idea of being the object of your sick obsessions. You can count me and my cooperation out.”
“Miss Goodbody felt the same way once, when I first brought her here. Now look at her, the model of the perfect submissive woman who will do anything I command of her.”
“So you are the one who kidnapped her!”
“Oh yes, quite simply to. I needed an assistant for my work and to help relieve my male urges. Her qualifications to fulfill both needs were exceptional. You should see her experience as a student at Gotham City University. Tops in her class in chemistry and anatomy, exceptional marks, excellent research skills. A very bright woman and very fetching too. I used knock-out gas on her in a changing room, dropped her into a prop box till after the show then collected her later that night, after the dim-witted police left.”
“So you kidnapped and brain-washed her.”
“Hardly a brain-washing. That’s an overused term and quite a false statement. I’m much more refined and scientific in my techniques.”
“Looks like it’s not 100 percent affective, judging by her shoes.”
“Perfected, but not quite on her. Call it a safeguard and it serves as a reminder to her of her place in life. But you notice her choice of attire. She’s wears nothing but similar outfits, and without the bothersome need for me to tell her what to dress in each day. And she locks herself in her shoes each morning. Besides, I enjoy a little kink in my love life, as Miss Goodbody knows well, one you’ll soon come to appreciate as well.”
“You’ll get no similar pleasure from me, I assure you. You must know I will fight you every step of the way. I’ll resist. I’ll battle constantly. I’ll try to escape every waking moment. I will never, ever give in to you willingly.”
“A very pretty but totally useless speech. You may desire to resist, but I assure you, you’ll never accomplish resisting me or anything I say to do.” He said with self satisfaction as he sprayed something into her face.
Knock out gas, again.
“Not once you’ve had the experience of Mind Bender.” She heard as things went to gray and black once more.
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28.06.09
story continues in Batgirl vs the Professor 3: Mind Bender
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