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Was playing around in Hero Machine and came across those suspenders that button into the waistband of your trousers. I got this image of a high powered banking type and suddenly this story idea was born. I always appreciate comments and critiques. It’s been a while since I crafted an adventure for the Dark Knight’s lovely young sidekick. Enjoy.
When The Market Is Up, Robin Goes Down
The sounds of yelling voices and dozens of clicking keyboards dominated the floor of the Gotham City Stock Exchange. Like most days there was an almost frantic sense of urgency as traders and brokers all jockeyed to make sure that their deals and instructions were carried out as quickly as possible. The hectic, fast-paced activity in this room was truly the heart of the state’s financial lifeblood.
Located well above the frenzied activity, behind a reinforced Plexiglas barrier, is the balcony alcove containing GCSE’s master control room. If the trading floor was the financial system’s heart, this was its brain. For within this high security environment worked the experts charged with maintaining the orderly and precise flow of all the transactions called for down below. These deals were then transmitted via secure computer relay to the various financial and banking institutions making up Gotham’s vast economic network.
Suddenly the doors leading into this incredibly controlled and orderly environment violently explode inward. The unceasing tapping of terminal input keys instantly becomes eerily silent as an imposing male figure steps through the smoking ruin of the doors.
Dressed in gray trousers, white and blue banker’s shirt, red power tie, and matching button-in suspenders, he is a distinguished and powerful individual. “Please, I’ll have to ask that everyone stand and move toward the back wall,” commanded the looming presence. Too shocked to offer any resistance the controllers comply, moving to group together in front of the window overlooking the trading floor.
During this activity, two beautiful young women enter the room to stand on either side of the nattily-dressed intruder. “Thank you folks, I do appreciate your cooperation,” the man said agreeably around his glowing cigar. “Now, my name is Wall Street and these lovely young ladies are my executive assistants, Buy and Sell.” The shapely young women, one a brunette Caucasian and the other an exotic African-American beauty, are identically dressed in currency-themed gray and green leotards, facemasks, suntan tights, and small green boots. Around their waists rests a belt festooned with a variety of seemingly business-related tools.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I want to tell you that greed is good… for me!” announced the villainous Wall Street. “Sell my dear girl, please make sure none of these fine people interfere with our little operation.”
The lovely ebony-skinned henchgirl approaches the stunned employees. Smiling sweetly, she pulls a small gun from her belt, pointing it directly at the helpless workers. As she fires, a continuous stream of thin paper plays itself all over the completely overwhelmed group. Within moments the entire assemblage of held fast within an unbreakable morass of old fashioned ticker-tape.
Beaming with satisfaction, the criminal kingpin proclaims, “Excellent work my dear. Now Miss Buy, if you please. We have a rather large transaction to undertake.”
Seating herself quite demurely at a now unoccupied control station, the beautiful masked blond crosses her luscious nylon-clad legs and removes a PDA-sized device from the belt encircling her trim waist. “Yes Mr. Street,” she answers brightly. “Syncing up the HackBerry now.” Tapping into the room’s Wi-Fi network, the villainous beauty easily accesses the supposedly impregnable firewalls protecting GCSE’s databases. “We’re in,” she says absentmindedly while watching her devices’ small screen. “There’s the master file… Logging into host server… Transfer protocols accepted… “ She eyed the display with an air of utter confidence.
“Transfer commencing… Good… Backing out now and initializing scorched earth encrypt… And we are DONE!” Beaming with success the athletic young woman stood and proudly passed her device to her mentor. Sell also rejoined her compatriots.
Regaining a small portion of his faculties, a middle-aged exchange employee asked, “Who are you and what’s going on!?”
Regarding the man who had spoken, the lovely Sell answered, “He’s already told you who we are, and as gar as what’s going on, we’ve just purloined approximately 6.3 million dollars from various local financial institutions and transferred it to our completely untraceable off-shore accounts”
“An excellent transaction ladies. A high profit margin indeed!” gloated Wall Street. Motioning his very capable assistants toward the exit, Wall Street briefly turned back to the bewildered financial facilitators. “The police will be here any minute to help you out of that. Again, thank you so much for all your assistance.” And with a final laugh, the financial felon disappeared through the gaping exit he had created a few short minutes before.
**********
Enroute to her favorite vintage clothing boutique, 19 year-old GCU sophomore Tina Drake bubbles in anticipation. “Those awesome tie-dye tights will just rock my black mini-skirt.” Remembering the store’s cash-only sales policy, she walks to an ATM located just off campus. Puzzled by the error message she receives, the lovely young co-ed once again tries to access her checking account balance.
“Overdrawn?” she mutters, perplexed. “No way; there’s over $2,000 in there.” A determined third attempt results in a ridiculous Invalid PIN display, and then the machine’s unreasonable “eating” of her bankcard.
Totally frustrated, Tina walks into the Walkallovaya Bank branch’s main lobby, asking to speak to a teller. Very apologetically the frazzled bank employee tells her about that morning’s system-wide breakdown due to a villains’ break-in at GCSE.
Shaking her head in increasing dismay, the fresh-faced young co-ed groans. “Oh crud, I’ve got to get back home and change for the meeting!”
Her mentor Bruce Wayne, in his secret guise as the legendary dark detective Batman, is away on a mission with several senior members of the Justice League. With Bruce away, Tina is entrusted to represent him at the quarterly meeting of Wayne Enterprise’s board of directors and cast the proxy votes he has prepared in advance.
**********
Dressed in a conservative blouse, breezy knee-length skirt, low heels, and nude pantyhose, Bruce Wayne’s junior assistant Tina Drake enters the boardroom with the portfolio containing the materials Bruce has briefed her on. She smiles at those present as she takes Bruce’s customary seat at the head of the conference table. Although she feels more than a bit intimidated by the powerful executives in attendance, they all understand her role and welcome her.
Just as Wayne Enterprises’ CFO begins the meeting, the double wooden doors suddenly open. Walking determinedly enters Wall Street and his villainous henchgirls, Buy and Sell. “What is the meaning of this interruption?” stammers the shocked CFO.
“Holy mergers and acquisitions!” thought Tina excitedly. “It’s that financial felon Wall Street.” She instantly realized that there was no way she could slip away to don the uniform of her crimefighter persona, Robin. “But maybe I can still put a crimp in his plans. There’s no way I can maneuver in these heels.” Under the cover of the table she slowly steps out of her conservative pumps, letting them drop silently to the carpeted floor.
“I’ll tell you the meaning. I’m here to perform a hostile takeover of Wayne Enterprises.” announced the dapper arch-criminal. Looking at the head of the table, his eyes fall on young teenager Tina Drake. “Funny, but you don’t look anything like your press photos, Bruce old boy.”
“Mister Wayne isn’t here, as you can plainly see,” said an angry Tina through gritted teeth as she stood from her padded leather chair. “I’m one of his junior assistants here to take notes.”
A dark cloud seemed to cover Wall Street’s face. “That’s just great! I come to kidnap the CEO and all I get is the kid who makes copies. It looks like Mr. Big Shot will just have to pencil me into his schedule. Well, I never leave the bargaining table a loser. Buy, Sell; collect everyone’s wallets, watches, and jewelry.” The shapely young henchgirls proceeded to approach opposite ends of the table.
As the villainess vixen Buy drew nearer, Tina thought, “I’ve got to try and stop them, but I have to be careful to not look like a certain teen wonder.” She slowed her breathing and readied herself.
“You heard the man,” smiled the beautiful henchgirl. “Hand over all your valuables, if you please.”
“Sorry sweetie,” replied the equally smiling Tina. “I gave at the office.” And without warning the teen heroine pivoted sideways, using her arms to roll her heavy executive chair right at the unsuspecting Buy. With a grunt the rapidly rolling chair hit the female felon directly in the chest. She fell to the padded carpet, dazed and gasping for breath.
“Why you little brat!” snarled Buy’s criminal companion, the beautiful Sell. “You’ll pay for that!” And with that she charged, running around the table to confront the disguised Girl Wonder.
Just as she was about to get hold of Tina’s arms, the young brunette girl leapt nimbly, landing her stocking-clad feet in the center of the large conference table. The events having completely shocked the corporate board, they stood wide-eyed as the situation unfolded.
As Sell leaned forward, taking an angry swipe at Tina’s pantyhose-covered legs, Tina lashed out with a snap kick, her foot connecting solidly with Sell’s jaw. The ebony-skinned girl’s head snapped back, her eyes rolling back as she sank stunned to the floor.
“Well aren’t you a plucky young thing?” taunted a voice behind Tina. She whirled around to see Wall Street standing behind his opened briefcase at the far end of the table. “You must be gunning for a raise. But right now, it’s me who’s gunning.”
Before the embattled young girl could respond, Wall Street’s hand emerged, holding a small hand-held device. As he pressed a control, a stream of thin white fiber shot forth, aimed directly at Tina. Faster than she could move, the long strand spun around, encircling her lower body and wrapping itself around her hose-clad legs.
“Uhhh…!” cried out the now imperiled teenager as the dastardly fiber pulled taught, pinning her legs together. She was suddenly trapped, her shapely legs bound by Wall Street’s vile ticker-tape.
With an evil grin, the villain pulled hard on the device, still attached to the material binding Tina’s legs. Being jerked forcefully, the now frightened young girl’s nylon stocking-covered feet found no traction atop the table’s smoothly varnished surface. Unable to resist, the bound young teenager was yanked off her feet, landing hard on the unyielding table. Completely overwhelmed by her attacker, she lay at the edge of unconsciousness. Groggily she felt her arms roughly pinned down by Wall Street’s now recovered minions.
“What are… you… going to do?” weakly asked the captive teen, totally powerless against the three intruders.
Before he could fashion a reply, the criminal’s head jerked up at the sudden blaring of the building’s interior security alarms. Looking at the assembled executives, he glared menacingly. “I wish I had time to discover which one of you activated the emergency alarm. And you, young lady, are a very lucky girl. Buy! Sell! Trading here is done!”
Roughly releasing their painful grip, the curvaceous criminals lithely followed their rapidly departing mentor. None of the assembled board so much as considered chasing them. And the slowly recovering Tina was in no shape for pursuit.
After several long hours of questions by Wayne Enterprises security, Gotham City Police and paramedics, not to mention some subtle evasions to members of the board themselves, the tired young college co-ed was finally able to make her departure, back to the welcoming environs of Wayne Manor, the stately home she shared with her mentor. Separate bedrooms, of course.
After a much needed meal and long hot shower, she found herself ensconced beneath the large estate in the fabled BatCave. But it was not Tina Drake that sat before the powerful BatComputer. Fully recovered from that afternoon’s humiliating encounter, she had once again donned the colorful uniform of her crime-fighting alter-ego, Robin, the Girl Wonder.
She now wore bright green: a short-sleeve leotard, small boots and gauntlets, with her upper body covered by a red vest, sporting the stylized “R” insignia above her small breast. A short yellow cape was fastened around her neck, and a black eyemask concealed her identity. Lacking superpowers, she depended upon the arsenal of ingenious devices contained within the compartments of the famed utility belt encircling her trim waist.
Absentmindedly she slowly rubbed together her matte suntan-tights encased legs. While she had always taken a secret pleasure of the look and feel of her nylon-clad legs, she realized the irony of her stocking-clad making her easier to capture today.
Shaking off her reverie, the caped crusader refocused her attention on the marvelous machine’s analysis. She had it currently trying to gather any information available based on the remnants of the insidious ticker-tape she had been able to sneak out of the boardroom.
“Ticker-tape? Nobody uses that stuff anymore,” she mused. “Not since streaming stock prices went on the web.” Using the powerful processor, she is able to locate the single manufacturer of this specific tape’s construction. She then cracks into that company’s customer list. “Interesting…,” she muses. “The only local buyer is a Wallace Streeter; delivery address is the penthouse level of the Chump Tower. Well, I’ve always wanted to visit the crown jewel of Gotham’s financial district.”
When The Market Is Up, Robin Goes Down
- Attachments
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- Gotham's financial felon
- Wall Street.JPG (75.45 KiB) Viewed 7491 times
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- The beautiful Buy
- Buy.JPG (63.92 KiB) Viewed 7491 times
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- The seductive Sell
- sell.JPG (62.65 KiB) Viewed 7491 times
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- Gotham's teen wonder
- Robin.jpg (71.15 KiB) Viewed 7491 times
Can't move... This device... holding me by my... sheer tights... has me powerless!
Parking the RedBird cycle several blocks away, Gotham City’s teen dynamo gazed up at the looming Chump Tower’s 92 storied height. Named after Ronald Chump, real estate magnate, was a glass and steel edifice dwarfing all other of Gotham’s high rises. Determinedly, Robin quickly closed the distance, concealing herself amid the foliage decorating the huge structures front pavilion.
Before leaving Batman’s fabled lair, she had used the incredible BatComputer’s resources to download the building complex’s complete blueprints and maintenance diagrams into her utility belt’s miniature communicator and data device. Using that information she had planned her mission.
With a catlike grace born of her former life as a champion gymnast, the shapely young heroine lightly made her way to a little-used maintenance portal on the far side of the plaza. Nimbly avoiding the building security cameras and sensors, she makes short work of removing the portal’s cover and lithely slips inside, replacing the cover behind her.
Realizing that entering the building and making her way upward would be impossible using conventional means, she had briefly considered her mentor’s preferred means of a Batarang and Batrope climb up the massive structure’s sheer face. One glance at the imposing building’s height had quickly caused her to rethink her assault.
After researching the structure’s detailed maintenance and repair schedule online, she found this rarely-used means of egress and formulated her plan. Reaching into a pouch of the incredible utility belt fastened around her trim waist, Robin removes a quartet of small untested devices she and her experienced mentor had been working on.
Using small elastic loops, she pulled a pair of the small metallic objects carefully up her sheer tights-covered legs, tightening them securely to her knees. “I hope these things work,” the teen heroine thought, running her hands over her tights. “And I better not snag these new tights on these metal walls.” She then affixed the other pair of machines to the palms of her green gauntlets.
Turning to face the interior wall of the metal-lined vertical shaft, she activated the devices. She felt a small vibration within her palms and above her knees. Tiny metallic treads were exposed on the devices. Moving slightly forward, the ingenious teen heroine felt a pull forward as all the devices magnetically clamped onto the wall she faced.
Making contact with the wall activated the tiny treads, causing them to begin a steady conveyer belt-like rotation. “Yes! The new BatMagnaClimbers work,” she smiled as her lithe form was pulled upward into the tall shaft. Within moments she had traveled the equivalent of several floors upward, having chosen this particular maintenance shaft because it ran the entire 92 floor height of Chump Tower.
Although the magnetic movers did the vast majority of the work of elevating the curvy crimefighter, Robin was still exerting a continued effort using her arms and legs to bear her weight as she was pulled up the shaft. “Holy Spider-Man,” she muttered. “After this I can definitely skip aerobics this week.”
After several minutes of rapid ascent, Robin neared her objective. Her magnetic grapples had propelled her up through almost the entire building’s height. Keeping track of her location with her communicator/data unit’s display of the building’s schematics, she readied herself to stop at her desired floor. The tycoon of terrorism apparently resided in the building’s penthouse, occupying the top 3 floors of Chump Tower. Since most of the space had been refit into 2 upper balcony floors overlooking a grand salon, she planned on taking advantage of having the high ground. She was going to make her way to the uppermost floor, giving her what she hoped was a commanding perspective over the entire space.
Reaching her destination the teen crimefighter deactivated her ingenious magnetic devices, stepping lithely into the small horizontal access adjacent to the 92nd floor. She took a moment to remove the grapples, first from her hands, stretching her arms to relieve tired arm muscles.
She then sat and slowly pulled off the devices on her legs, taking much-needed time to slowly stretch and massage her aching, nylon-sheathed legs. “Can’t afford to get a cramp in my legs tonight,” she thought silently. As she rubbed welcome circulation back into her calves, she once again wryly noted the alluring sight and feel of her legs, clad in her special suntan-shaded matte tights.
“As much as I admit the enticement of my legs in their tights,” she mused to herself. “I cannot afford to become distracted by it.” While an unexpected facet of her life as a costumed teen crimefighter, she secretly knew the power it could have as a weakness that had been used against her on more than one occasion.
Reluctantly she finished her restorative, and very pleasurable, kneading of her overworked leg muscles and stored her magnetic climbing tools in their assigned place on her fabulous utility belt.
With renewed purpose, Gotham City’s teen wonder ever so silently and slowly crept forward, intent on locating the panel giving her access to the arch-villain’s penthouse residence. Although she had thus far remained undetected, or so she hoped, she knew she still had a long night of work ahead.
But how long a night, she had no idea…
Before leaving Batman’s fabled lair, she had used the incredible BatComputer’s resources to download the building complex’s complete blueprints and maintenance diagrams into her utility belt’s miniature communicator and data device. Using that information she had planned her mission.
With a catlike grace born of her former life as a champion gymnast, the shapely young heroine lightly made her way to a little-used maintenance portal on the far side of the plaza. Nimbly avoiding the building security cameras and sensors, she makes short work of removing the portal’s cover and lithely slips inside, replacing the cover behind her.
Realizing that entering the building and making her way upward would be impossible using conventional means, she had briefly considered her mentor’s preferred means of a Batarang and Batrope climb up the massive structure’s sheer face. One glance at the imposing building’s height had quickly caused her to rethink her assault.
After researching the structure’s detailed maintenance and repair schedule online, she found this rarely-used means of egress and formulated her plan. Reaching into a pouch of the incredible utility belt fastened around her trim waist, Robin removes a quartet of small untested devices she and her experienced mentor had been working on.
Using small elastic loops, she pulled a pair of the small metallic objects carefully up her sheer tights-covered legs, tightening them securely to her knees. “I hope these things work,” the teen heroine thought, running her hands over her tights. “And I better not snag these new tights on these metal walls.” She then affixed the other pair of machines to the palms of her green gauntlets.
Turning to face the interior wall of the metal-lined vertical shaft, she activated the devices. She felt a small vibration within her palms and above her knees. Tiny metallic treads were exposed on the devices. Moving slightly forward, the ingenious teen heroine felt a pull forward as all the devices magnetically clamped onto the wall she faced.
Making contact with the wall activated the tiny treads, causing them to begin a steady conveyer belt-like rotation. “Yes! The new BatMagnaClimbers work,” she smiled as her lithe form was pulled upward into the tall shaft. Within moments she had traveled the equivalent of several floors upward, having chosen this particular maintenance shaft because it ran the entire 92 floor height of Chump Tower.
Although the magnetic movers did the vast majority of the work of elevating the curvy crimefighter, Robin was still exerting a continued effort using her arms and legs to bear her weight as she was pulled up the shaft. “Holy Spider-Man,” she muttered. “After this I can definitely skip aerobics this week.”
After several minutes of rapid ascent, Robin neared her objective. Her magnetic grapples had propelled her up through almost the entire building’s height. Keeping track of her location with her communicator/data unit’s display of the building’s schematics, she readied herself to stop at her desired floor. The tycoon of terrorism apparently resided in the building’s penthouse, occupying the top 3 floors of Chump Tower. Since most of the space had been refit into 2 upper balcony floors overlooking a grand salon, she planned on taking advantage of having the high ground. She was going to make her way to the uppermost floor, giving her what she hoped was a commanding perspective over the entire space.
Reaching her destination the teen crimefighter deactivated her ingenious magnetic devices, stepping lithely into the small horizontal access adjacent to the 92nd floor. She took a moment to remove the grapples, first from her hands, stretching her arms to relieve tired arm muscles.
She then sat and slowly pulled off the devices on her legs, taking much-needed time to slowly stretch and massage her aching, nylon-sheathed legs. “Can’t afford to get a cramp in my legs tonight,” she thought silently. As she rubbed welcome circulation back into her calves, she once again wryly noted the alluring sight and feel of her legs, clad in her special suntan-shaded matte tights.
“As much as I admit the enticement of my legs in their tights,” she mused to herself. “I cannot afford to become distracted by it.” While an unexpected facet of her life as a costumed teen crimefighter, she secretly knew the power it could have as a weakness that had been used against her on more than one occasion.
Reluctantly she finished her restorative, and very pleasurable, kneading of her overworked leg muscles and stored her magnetic climbing tools in their assigned place on her fabulous utility belt.
With renewed purpose, Gotham City’s teen wonder ever so silently and slowly crept forward, intent on locating the panel giving her access to the arch-villain’s penthouse residence. Although she had thus far remained undetected, or so she hoped, she knew she still had a long night of work ahead.
But how long a night, she had no idea…
Can't move... This device... holding me by my... sheer tights... has me powerless!
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RedMountain
- Overlord
- Posts: 585
- Joined: 19 years ago
Wonderful story so far, can't wait to read more and am glad you are back writing your female Robin! 
Glad folks are enjoying. Yes SGZ6, I am trying to emulate the 60s TV version, although not quite as wholesomely. :-D
And as the announcer on the 60s Batman said, "But the worst is yet to come!"
And as the announcer on the 60s Batman said, "But the worst is yet to come!"
Can't move... This device... holding me by my... sheer tights... has me powerless!
Silent as shadow the young heroine crept forward toward the air return grate her research had located. Situated on the uppermost floor of Wall Street’s multi-story penthouse, it provided access to its overlooking balcony. With each slow movement she listened carefully for activity within the residence; she was counting on the lateness of the hour to assist with remaining unobserved.
With supple grace Robin ever so slowly opened the access panel, her keen senses alert for trouble. She emerged from the crawlspace and quietly replaced the air return cover behind her. Pivoting toward the balcony rail, she made her way slowly forward, looking all around. Glancing at her wrist-mounted data unit, she was pleased to note that her late-night visit was precisely on schedule. The time now was 2:56am, the perfect time to hopefully catch her prey unaware.
Her research had divulged that the third floor balcony she was currently on opened onto various residential suites and guest bedrooms. Wary of being heard, the teenage crimefighter padded forward, staying near the shadows provided by the balcony and railing. She noted that the balcony completely ringed the level, with glass-walled elevators in diagonally opposite corners, with the other corners containing metal spiral staircases.
Looking down she noted that the penthouse’s middle level was almost identical to the one she currently occupied. The building’s blueprints revealed that level’s use primarily as offices and workspaces, as well as housing the components of the impressive computer and communications equipment the arch-criminal maintained.
Relieved that her clandestine computer findings had thus far proven accurate, she turned her attention to the massive space’s main floor. The main salon was an impressive rectangular space with huge floor-to-ceiling windows totally occupying the opposing shorter walls, the longer walls being interspaced with various open enclosures. She noted a dimly lit kitchen in one such area, as well as a variety of semi-isolated conversation pits, work areas, and the like. As far as she could tell no one was about in any of the areas she could see from her vantage point.
“I need to get off this residential level,” thought the young superheroine. “Not sure how long my luck will hold, but I don’t want to be near these bedrooms if people start waking up.” With a final cautious glance around, the lithe teenager stepped lightly onto the heavy railing and a gauntleted-hand grasped the vertical post running the entire height of the tri-level penthouse.
Stepping off the balcony rail and placing her booted feel on either side of the support post, she quietly slid downward, landing almost silently on the salon’s main floor. She lithely moved to the shadows surrounding a lushly-appointed sofa adjacent to one of the space’s sitting areas. Crouching, she slowly raised her head, her vision adjusting to the gloom.
She could make out most of the space, mentally positioning herself within her memorized electronic diagrams. “Got to be extra careful tonight,” Robin thought silently. “This is the first time I’ve tried taking on Wall Street alone.” Wishing she might’ve considered the situation a bit more carefully, she pledged herself even more caution and wariness. “Focus Tina, this is evidence gathering, not a takedown raid.”
Moving like a ghost in the dim light, the junior caped crusader made her way around toward the more open area of the main floor. Closer now, she was able to make out greater detail of her surroundings. The greater expanse seemed also devoted to areas of specific intent. Noting an abundance of large wall-mounted plasma displays, with a whisper of rubbing nylon tights-clad legs she passed near a large portion occupied by a massive workbench containing several technical-looking projects in various stages of completion. Nearby was a large space filled with exercise and recreation equipment, everything from treadmills and exer-cycles to billiard and ping-pong tables. There was even a mini-arcade set up with a variety of pinball and video games.
But the room’s layout seemed directed to focus attention toward one of the salon’s shorter, window-dominated walls. This elevated section was obviously the area from which that dastardly villain Wall Street held sway over his various criminal enterprises.
Dominated by a large modern metal-and-glass desk, all Wall Street’s criminal courtiers would face him while he sat with his back to the impressive 90th floor view, using the classic business tactic of keeping your subordinates off-balance by distracting and impressing them. His own perspective gave him an assuredly satisfied view, “lord of all he survey” and all that.
Padding lightly on the balls of her thinly-booted feet, the girl wonder stepped onto the raised dais and behind the financial felon’s desk. Wary of traps and of leaving behind evidence of her clandestine visit, Robin was careful to touch nothing, trusting to her powers of visual observation as well the photos she might snap if prudent.
She took care not to touch the monetary mastermind’s undoubtedly uber-comfortable executive chair. Purchased from the Sultan of Dubai for a rumored 1.6 million dollars, the luxury furniture was constructed of titanium reportedly salvaged from the core of Pennsylvania’s Three-Mile Island nuclear facility. And its padded seat was constructed from solid gold threads that had been hand-stitched onto the pelts of whitecoated Canadian baby Harp seals. “Trust that evil fiend to capitalize on such terrible suffering,” mused the sensitive teen heroine.
Refocusing her attention, Robin examined Wall Street’s assuredly expensive desk. Technologically state of the art, the desk’s immaculate surface contained an inlaid touch-sensitive keyboard as well as a host of specialized controls, only a small fraction of which was the teen heroine able to immediately decipher. Serving as a screen was an ingenious three-dimensional holographic display projected hovering above the desk’s glass surface.
One area she recognized with a flash of delight was a top of the line InfoSync pad. Much like the more familiar Batcomputer, this allowed a properly-equipped portable device to easily and quickly trade specified information with the main computer’s host server. “Holy hacker!” she muttered. Excitedly she removed her powerful iBat and setting it to “Maximum Retrieve” placed it on the InfoSync pad. Instantly lights on her miniaturized device began to glow and its tiny display indicated a successful link.
The keyboard and display atop Wall Street’s desk also brightened, making the tan-tighted teen decidedly more anxious to complete her reconnaissance. Looking around anew, she was pleased to see no indication that her activities had roused any of the penthouse’s occupants. “Come on you little Bat-wonder,” she whispered. “Do your stuff.”
After what felt like hours, her small unit’s display shone “Download Complete,” indicating that she had captured her foe’s entire electronic database. “I think it’s time I better not press my luck,” she muttered, securing the unit once again on the fabulous utility belt fastened snugly about her trim waist. Rapidly she moved toward the elevator doors centering on the longer wall. “It’ll be faster if I just used the elevator to get to a lower floor and then use the repair shafts for the last few floors.”
Reaching the doors she noted that instead of normal buttons used to summon the car, there was a multi-keyed touchscreen. Obviously there was a special alphanumeric code required to utilize this means of egress. With a frown she began reaching for her iBat, intending to use its abilities to determine the code needed to make her exit.
Before she could reach the device on her belt, bright light unexpectedly flooded the entire multi-floor space. Instinctively the teen dynamo whirled around, squinting as her eyes adjusted to the sudden luminous assault. Her returning vision darted about, alert for attack.
“My, my, my,” purred a seductively feminine voice. “This late at night I thought we might find a big, ugly bat stuck this far up.” Emerging from a crouch behind the salon’s kitchen enclosure was the villainess henchgirl Sell. Her hips swayed enticingly as her shapely nylon-encased legs slowly strolled toward the main floor’s center. A flash of dismay crossed Robin’s delicate features as she realized that she had been discovered.
“I know,” said a soothing woman’s voice from a different direction. “But it seems we’ve snared a pretty little birdy instead.” Walking toward her criminal cohort, the henchgirl Buy emerged from a darkened corner behind one of the space’s spiral staircases.
“If it isn’t the caped clod’s junior partner,” boomed a commanding voice from the second-story balcony. Robin’s gaze darted upward. Garbed in his signature businessman’s attire, the financial felon gloated down upon his surprised prey. “First Bruce Wayne and now Batman. I’m beginning to think Gotham’s other big deals don’t take me seriously. But you, my young pet, need to take me… very… seriously.”
Trying to calm a rising panic, the young teen assessed her situation. Clearly she had walked right into a trap, set for her and her more experienced partner. Watching as the sensuous sirens Buy and Sell slunk ever closer to her position, she backed up slightly, coming into contact with the unyielding elevator doors. With a voice only slightly betraying her fear, the trapped teen replied, “Wall Street, you financial felon. I’m afraid you and your criminal companions are about to experience a little economic crisis.”
“Oh Girl Wonder, I don’t think you give me enough credit,” Wall Street said confidently. “And speaking of credit, it’s time my able-bodied assistants give you some… credit, that is. Ladies, if you please.” At his command the two leotard-wearing beauties both reached into matching cases on their belts.
“I do so love shopping with my BlasterCard,” cooed the evil Buy. And with a flick of their wrists, seemingly innocent looking credit cards came hurtling right at the cornered crimefighter.
With lightning quick reflexes the former circus aerialist sprang forward, grasping a hanging light fixture. Suspended by a heavy decorative chain she used it to swing up and forward. And just in the nick of time, for the flying plastic cards hit the elevator doors and exploded in a thunder of smoke and flame.
Continuing forward just away from the explosion, the lithe teenager kicked out with her booted feet, slamming perfect kicks to the chests of the attacking henchgirls. Sending them falling backwards, they tumbled over upturned furniture as Robin landed lightly, ready to resume the attack. “So sorry to have to adjust your Balance!” she punned.
Knowing she still had a skilled adversary to deal with, the young heroine instantly pulled her Batarang from her utility belt and turned, throwing it directly at the villainous Wall Street, still on his balcony perch. But even as she hurled her famous weapon, she saw Wall Street throw one of his vile Business Card Boomerangs, skillfully deflecting her Batarang to fall harmlessly to the floor.
Seeing her chance, the embattled young heroine leapt back toward the blasted elevator doors, intending to retreat via the now-open portals and slide down the exposed elevator cables. Making her dash, she turned for a final glance at her erstwhile captor, who was focused not on her but on his wristwatch. Brazenly the teenager called back, “Next time, you bumbling businessman.”
With a Cheshire smile, the arch-criminal looked at the escaping Girl Wonder. “Actually it’s going to be this… TIME!” he crowed triumphantly.
And at that exact instant Robin’s shapely young body arched forward, clutched in a spasm of inescapable agony as if she had been struck by lightning in the middle of her back. Unable to resist the powerful current that suddenly coursed through her body, she cried out in agony as her nylon-sheathed legs buckled, collapsing her on her back.
Just barely conscious as the gripping force extinguished, she lay panting as the evil Wall Street descended in a spiral staircase. “Oh Robin, what a shocking development,” he quipped while approaching the stricken teen wonder.
“What did… you do… to me?” gasped the vulnerable girl, fighting for strength.
Smiling, Wall Street replied, “My poor grounded bird, I anticipated that you or your meddlesome mentor would try to use my computer to gain some insider information. So I simply installed a rather effective safeguard; any unauthorized devices trying to hack into my systems would also get a secret little download. A hidden virus program that, after a 200-second countdown, would trigger an overload of the unit’s power cell, instantly discharging all its electricity in one incredibly stunning burst.”
“Holy… lightning rod,” weakly said the overwhelmed young heroine, stalling for time as sensation slowly returned to her still-twitching arms and legs. “But I’m not… that easy to get rid of.” She pulled tingling legs together and pushed to her feet.
“And neither are we!” Taken by surprise, Robin was unprepared as the now-recovered Sell’s powerful arms snaked upward under her own, her hands locking and pinning Robin in a full-nelson hold. Still recovering, the masked teen could only weakly struggle within the villainess’s grip. She then felt herself completely suspended, as Buy grasped her tights-covered thighs and lifted her free of the floor.
Writhing within their treacherous grasp, Robin pleased, “Let go of me, you vile vixens!” Her frantic struggles were in vain, locked within the cobra-like vise of the beautiful young leotard-and-tights-wearing apprentices.
“My capable assistants,” cried a delighted Wall Street. “Isn’t it true that robins are considered to be… game birds,” he said, with a smiling emphasis on the final phrase. With a smiling dawn of understanding, the masked Buy and Sell began carrying the captured young superheroine toward the salon’s recreation area.
Her upper and lower body held aloft, Robin was powerless to prevent the beautiful henchgirls from walking to opposite sides of the room’s large pool table. Stretched along the table lengthwise, she was roughly deposited onto the green felted surface. “Uuuhhh…,” she moaned as her arms and legs were pulled, stretching painfully with her wrists and ankles held atop the corner pockets.
The squirming young heroine felt her legs then pulled together. Lifting her head she watched as the beautiful Buy clamped one hand onto her green boots as she leaned to the side, reaching for a nearby pool cue. “Maybe a couple quick shots to the stomach will quiet this one down,” she sneered. Buy brandished the heavy stick. “How about it? Eight ball… in the side!”
Taking advantage of her opponent’s slightly off balance stance, the imprisoned young Robin pointed her toes and, bending her knees, strained to perform a backward roll. Her feet, encased in their silky nylon sheath, slid free from her boots and rocketed over head and connected solidly with the forehead of the completely unprepared ebony-skinned Sell. Her former captor hit the hardwood floor with a satisfying think.
Going on the offensive, the caped crusader sprang around the table to confront Buy. Easily slipping below a clumsily-swung pool cue, Robin grabbed the weapon, grappling two-handed for leverage. As the costumed heroine and villainess tried to gain advantage, Robin’s nylon-clad feet began slipping across the smooth polished floor.
Pressing her advantage, Buy was able to slowly force Robin’s back against the table. Using her slightly taller frame, she leaned over the struggling young heroine as she was becoming pinned with her back atop the billiard table. And as they battled desperately, soft grunts and sounds of strain coming from both combatants, their leotards and tights rubbed and ground together.
With a startled gasp Robin felt a wave of weakness wash over her, as if she were her friend Supergirl being exposed to a sample of kryptonite. “Oh my god!” she silently panicked. “The sensations are… so powerful! Need to… focus!” Desperately she sought a way to fight the maddening waves of distraction, betrayed by her own body’s reaction.
Trying to ignore the incredible tingling that blossomed within her legs, she arched back even further, pulling and sliding her seemingly-electrified legs up the backs of Buy’s own tights, placing her heels in the hollows behind her opponent’s knees. She noted a slightly dreamy smile ghost over the masked villain’s lips, as if she too may share Robin’s love of sensations caused by nylon tights.
With the last of her waning strength, the near-helpless teenager shoved mightily upward, forcing Buy backward and tripping her over Robin’s entwining nylon-encased feet. Completely off-balance, Buy flailed backward, her brunette head striking the padded arm of a nearby sofa. She fell to the floor, totally unconscious.
Breathing hard, the young teen heroine turned to face the now uncertain-looking master criminal. The anger at her own secret betrayal colored her voice as much as her almost-defeat as she ground out, “I am REALLY getting tired of this!” With fists clenched she advanced on the now retreating Wall Street as he backed wide-eyed into the adjacent workbench-dominated area.
“Now see here, young lady,” temporized the terrified tycoon. “There’s no call for violence. There’s always a deal that can be brokered, some compromise wherein all parties find satisfaction.” His retreat was halted as he bumped into an unyielding table.
Readying herself to pounce Robin replied, “Oh, but I’m afraid that these talks have reached a real sticking point. I’m quite unable to move from my position.”
“I was afraid you’d say something like that,” meekly replied the defeated capitalistic crimelord. And without warning his hand shot forth and pressed a control switch affixed to the table behind him.
Before she could fully register his actions, it was as if a giant’s hand wrapped itself around the young heroine’s lithe waist and forcefully pulled her backward. The silky nylon tights encasing her still-bootless feet offered no friction as she slid. “Uhhh…,” she gasped as she was pulled crushingly against a large device bolted perpendicular to the main workbench’s surface.
“What is…, uhhh…, this crushing…, uhhh…, grip?” gasped the suddenly imperiled young heroine. “I can’t… break free…, uhhh…, of its… devilish grip!” Try as she might, the frightened Robin could not pry her mid-section away from the device’s invisible hold on her.
“That’s exactly as it should be, my trapped pretty bird,” soothed the no longer fearful Wall Street. “I’m sure you know that a necessary tool in the manufacture of forged credit cards is an industrial strength electric degausser.”
“Holy immoveable object!” exclaimed the helplessly struggling heroine. “This device…, uhhh…, is holding me prisoner… by the metallic items in my…, uhhh…, utility belt! That’s twice… you’ve used…, uhhh…, my own items… against me.” “Or three times, counting my almost succumbing to my own nylon-enhanced weakness!” she thought. “My own belt…, uhhh…, squeezing my waist! Getting hard to… breathe. Uhhh… Can’t resist this… devilish grip!”
Leisurely removing a cigar from his shirt pocket, the financial felon slowly approached the vainly struggling young teen. “Yes my captive young Robin, I’m afraid I’m forced to bring your trading day to a close.”
The nylon fabric of her tights sliding ineffectually across the floor’s slippery surface, the Girl Wonder writhed within the seemingly insatiable hunger of the powerful magnet’s attraction. “You… fiend! Uhhh…, You can’t… do this to me!” In desperation, her gloved hands begin weakly trying to activate her utility belt’s release, hoping to free herself from its insidious grasp.
Seeing her intent, Wall Street said, “Now, now Robin, you’re not allowed to walk out early on negotiations.” He quickly closed the distance between them.
“So… weak,” the struggling teen girl gasped against the crushing pain. “Can’t fall…, uhhh…, into your… uhhh…, vile clutches.”
Bending slightly to face her, the dastardly villain smiled almost apologetically. “They say, my dear Robin, that money never sleeps. But you do.” With a small motion he activated his evil fake cigar, causing it to emit a small puff of his dreaded knockout gas
Held fast as she was, the struggling teenage captive was unable to avoid the gas as it clouded around her desperate features, instantly causing her writhing motions to become less pronounced. “Nooo…,” she said drowsily. “Please don’t… take me… prisoner. Caann’t… rrreesssisssst… aaannnnyyy… mmooorrree…” And almost gratefully, Robin’s masked eyes drooped closed as she fell into a darkened oblivion.
With supple grace Robin ever so slowly opened the access panel, her keen senses alert for trouble. She emerged from the crawlspace and quietly replaced the air return cover behind her. Pivoting toward the balcony rail, she made her way slowly forward, looking all around. Glancing at her wrist-mounted data unit, she was pleased to note that her late-night visit was precisely on schedule. The time now was 2:56am, the perfect time to hopefully catch her prey unaware.
Her research had divulged that the third floor balcony she was currently on opened onto various residential suites and guest bedrooms. Wary of being heard, the teenage crimefighter padded forward, staying near the shadows provided by the balcony and railing. She noted that the balcony completely ringed the level, with glass-walled elevators in diagonally opposite corners, with the other corners containing metal spiral staircases.
Looking down she noted that the penthouse’s middle level was almost identical to the one she currently occupied. The building’s blueprints revealed that level’s use primarily as offices and workspaces, as well as housing the components of the impressive computer and communications equipment the arch-criminal maintained.
Relieved that her clandestine computer findings had thus far proven accurate, she turned her attention to the massive space’s main floor. The main salon was an impressive rectangular space with huge floor-to-ceiling windows totally occupying the opposing shorter walls, the longer walls being interspaced with various open enclosures. She noted a dimly lit kitchen in one such area, as well as a variety of semi-isolated conversation pits, work areas, and the like. As far as she could tell no one was about in any of the areas she could see from her vantage point.
“I need to get off this residential level,” thought the young superheroine. “Not sure how long my luck will hold, but I don’t want to be near these bedrooms if people start waking up.” With a final cautious glance around, the lithe teenager stepped lightly onto the heavy railing and a gauntleted-hand grasped the vertical post running the entire height of the tri-level penthouse.
Stepping off the balcony rail and placing her booted feel on either side of the support post, she quietly slid downward, landing almost silently on the salon’s main floor. She lithely moved to the shadows surrounding a lushly-appointed sofa adjacent to one of the space’s sitting areas. Crouching, she slowly raised her head, her vision adjusting to the gloom.
She could make out most of the space, mentally positioning herself within her memorized electronic diagrams. “Got to be extra careful tonight,” Robin thought silently. “This is the first time I’ve tried taking on Wall Street alone.” Wishing she might’ve considered the situation a bit more carefully, she pledged herself even more caution and wariness. “Focus Tina, this is evidence gathering, not a takedown raid.”
Moving like a ghost in the dim light, the junior caped crusader made her way around toward the more open area of the main floor. Closer now, she was able to make out greater detail of her surroundings. The greater expanse seemed also devoted to areas of specific intent. Noting an abundance of large wall-mounted plasma displays, with a whisper of rubbing nylon tights-clad legs she passed near a large portion occupied by a massive workbench containing several technical-looking projects in various stages of completion. Nearby was a large space filled with exercise and recreation equipment, everything from treadmills and exer-cycles to billiard and ping-pong tables. There was even a mini-arcade set up with a variety of pinball and video games.
But the room’s layout seemed directed to focus attention toward one of the salon’s shorter, window-dominated walls. This elevated section was obviously the area from which that dastardly villain Wall Street held sway over his various criminal enterprises.
Dominated by a large modern metal-and-glass desk, all Wall Street’s criminal courtiers would face him while he sat with his back to the impressive 90th floor view, using the classic business tactic of keeping your subordinates off-balance by distracting and impressing them. His own perspective gave him an assuredly satisfied view, “lord of all he survey” and all that.
Padding lightly on the balls of her thinly-booted feet, the girl wonder stepped onto the raised dais and behind the financial felon’s desk. Wary of traps and of leaving behind evidence of her clandestine visit, Robin was careful to touch nothing, trusting to her powers of visual observation as well the photos she might snap if prudent.
She took care not to touch the monetary mastermind’s undoubtedly uber-comfortable executive chair. Purchased from the Sultan of Dubai for a rumored 1.6 million dollars, the luxury furniture was constructed of titanium reportedly salvaged from the core of Pennsylvania’s Three-Mile Island nuclear facility. And its padded seat was constructed from solid gold threads that had been hand-stitched onto the pelts of whitecoated Canadian baby Harp seals. “Trust that evil fiend to capitalize on such terrible suffering,” mused the sensitive teen heroine.
Refocusing her attention, Robin examined Wall Street’s assuredly expensive desk. Technologically state of the art, the desk’s immaculate surface contained an inlaid touch-sensitive keyboard as well as a host of specialized controls, only a small fraction of which was the teen heroine able to immediately decipher. Serving as a screen was an ingenious three-dimensional holographic display projected hovering above the desk’s glass surface.
One area she recognized with a flash of delight was a top of the line InfoSync pad. Much like the more familiar Batcomputer, this allowed a properly-equipped portable device to easily and quickly trade specified information with the main computer’s host server. “Holy hacker!” she muttered. Excitedly she removed her powerful iBat and setting it to “Maximum Retrieve” placed it on the InfoSync pad. Instantly lights on her miniaturized device began to glow and its tiny display indicated a successful link.
The keyboard and display atop Wall Street’s desk also brightened, making the tan-tighted teen decidedly more anxious to complete her reconnaissance. Looking around anew, she was pleased to see no indication that her activities had roused any of the penthouse’s occupants. “Come on you little Bat-wonder,” she whispered. “Do your stuff.”
After what felt like hours, her small unit’s display shone “Download Complete,” indicating that she had captured her foe’s entire electronic database. “I think it’s time I better not press my luck,” she muttered, securing the unit once again on the fabulous utility belt fastened snugly about her trim waist. Rapidly she moved toward the elevator doors centering on the longer wall. “It’ll be faster if I just used the elevator to get to a lower floor and then use the repair shafts for the last few floors.”
Reaching the doors she noted that instead of normal buttons used to summon the car, there was a multi-keyed touchscreen. Obviously there was a special alphanumeric code required to utilize this means of egress. With a frown she began reaching for her iBat, intending to use its abilities to determine the code needed to make her exit.
Before she could reach the device on her belt, bright light unexpectedly flooded the entire multi-floor space. Instinctively the teen dynamo whirled around, squinting as her eyes adjusted to the sudden luminous assault. Her returning vision darted about, alert for attack.
“My, my, my,” purred a seductively feminine voice. “This late at night I thought we might find a big, ugly bat stuck this far up.” Emerging from a crouch behind the salon’s kitchen enclosure was the villainess henchgirl Sell. Her hips swayed enticingly as her shapely nylon-encased legs slowly strolled toward the main floor’s center. A flash of dismay crossed Robin’s delicate features as she realized that she had been discovered.
“I know,” said a soothing woman’s voice from a different direction. “But it seems we’ve snared a pretty little birdy instead.” Walking toward her criminal cohort, the henchgirl Buy emerged from a darkened corner behind one of the space’s spiral staircases.
“If it isn’t the caped clod’s junior partner,” boomed a commanding voice from the second-story balcony. Robin’s gaze darted upward. Garbed in his signature businessman’s attire, the financial felon gloated down upon his surprised prey. “First Bruce Wayne and now Batman. I’m beginning to think Gotham’s other big deals don’t take me seriously. But you, my young pet, need to take me… very… seriously.”
Trying to calm a rising panic, the young teen assessed her situation. Clearly she had walked right into a trap, set for her and her more experienced partner. Watching as the sensuous sirens Buy and Sell slunk ever closer to her position, she backed up slightly, coming into contact with the unyielding elevator doors. With a voice only slightly betraying her fear, the trapped teen replied, “Wall Street, you financial felon. I’m afraid you and your criminal companions are about to experience a little economic crisis.”
“Oh Girl Wonder, I don’t think you give me enough credit,” Wall Street said confidently. “And speaking of credit, it’s time my able-bodied assistants give you some… credit, that is. Ladies, if you please.” At his command the two leotard-wearing beauties both reached into matching cases on their belts.
“I do so love shopping with my BlasterCard,” cooed the evil Buy. And with a flick of their wrists, seemingly innocent looking credit cards came hurtling right at the cornered crimefighter.
With lightning quick reflexes the former circus aerialist sprang forward, grasping a hanging light fixture. Suspended by a heavy decorative chain she used it to swing up and forward. And just in the nick of time, for the flying plastic cards hit the elevator doors and exploded in a thunder of smoke and flame.
Continuing forward just away from the explosion, the lithe teenager kicked out with her booted feet, slamming perfect kicks to the chests of the attacking henchgirls. Sending them falling backwards, they tumbled over upturned furniture as Robin landed lightly, ready to resume the attack. “So sorry to have to adjust your Balance!” she punned.
Knowing she still had a skilled adversary to deal with, the young heroine instantly pulled her Batarang from her utility belt and turned, throwing it directly at the villainous Wall Street, still on his balcony perch. But even as she hurled her famous weapon, she saw Wall Street throw one of his vile Business Card Boomerangs, skillfully deflecting her Batarang to fall harmlessly to the floor.
Seeing her chance, the embattled young heroine leapt back toward the blasted elevator doors, intending to retreat via the now-open portals and slide down the exposed elevator cables. Making her dash, she turned for a final glance at her erstwhile captor, who was focused not on her but on his wristwatch. Brazenly the teenager called back, “Next time, you bumbling businessman.”
With a Cheshire smile, the arch-criminal looked at the escaping Girl Wonder. “Actually it’s going to be this… TIME!” he crowed triumphantly.
And at that exact instant Robin’s shapely young body arched forward, clutched in a spasm of inescapable agony as if she had been struck by lightning in the middle of her back. Unable to resist the powerful current that suddenly coursed through her body, she cried out in agony as her nylon-sheathed legs buckled, collapsing her on her back.
Just barely conscious as the gripping force extinguished, she lay panting as the evil Wall Street descended in a spiral staircase. “Oh Robin, what a shocking development,” he quipped while approaching the stricken teen wonder.
“What did… you do… to me?” gasped the vulnerable girl, fighting for strength.
Smiling, Wall Street replied, “My poor grounded bird, I anticipated that you or your meddlesome mentor would try to use my computer to gain some insider information. So I simply installed a rather effective safeguard; any unauthorized devices trying to hack into my systems would also get a secret little download. A hidden virus program that, after a 200-second countdown, would trigger an overload of the unit’s power cell, instantly discharging all its electricity in one incredibly stunning burst.”
“Holy… lightning rod,” weakly said the overwhelmed young heroine, stalling for time as sensation slowly returned to her still-twitching arms and legs. “But I’m not… that easy to get rid of.” She pulled tingling legs together and pushed to her feet.
“And neither are we!” Taken by surprise, Robin was unprepared as the now-recovered Sell’s powerful arms snaked upward under her own, her hands locking and pinning Robin in a full-nelson hold. Still recovering, the masked teen could only weakly struggle within the villainess’s grip. She then felt herself completely suspended, as Buy grasped her tights-covered thighs and lifted her free of the floor.
Writhing within their treacherous grasp, Robin pleased, “Let go of me, you vile vixens!” Her frantic struggles were in vain, locked within the cobra-like vise of the beautiful young leotard-and-tights-wearing apprentices.
“My capable assistants,” cried a delighted Wall Street. “Isn’t it true that robins are considered to be… game birds,” he said, with a smiling emphasis on the final phrase. With a smiling dawn of understanding, the masked Buy and Sell began carrying the captured young superheroine toward the salon’s recreation area.
Her upper and lower body held aloft, Robin was powerless to prevent the beautiful henchgirls from walking to opposite sides of the room’s large pool table. Stretched along the table lengthwise, she was roughly deposited onto the green felted surface. “Uuuhhh…,” she moaned as her arms and legs were pulled, stretching painfully with her wrists and ankles held atop the corner pockets.
The squirming young heroine felt her legs then pulled together. Lifting her head she watched as the beautiful Buy clamped one hand onto her green boots as she leaned to the side, reaching for a nearby pool cue. “Maybe a couple quick shots to the stomach will quiet this one down,” she sneered. Buy brandished the heavy stick. “How about it? Eight ball… in the side!”
Taking advantage of her opponent’s slightly off balance stance, the imprisoned young Robin pointed her toes and, bending her knees, strained to perform a backward roll. Her feet, encased in their silky nylon sheath, slid free from her boots and rocketed over head and connected solidly with the forehead of the completely unprepared ebony-skinned Sell. Her former captor hit the hardwood floor with a satisfying think.
Going on the offensive, the caped crusader sprang around the table to confront Buy. Easily slipping below a clumsily-swung pool cue, Robin grabbed the weapon, grappling two-handed for leverage. As the costumed heroine and villainess tried to gain advantage, Robin’s nylon-clad feet began slipping across the smooth polished floor.
Pressing her advantage, Buy was able to slowly force Robin’s back against the table. Using her slightly taller frame, she leaned over the struggling young heroine as she was becoming pinned with her back atop the billiard table. And as they battled desperately, soft grunts and sounds of strain coming from both combatants, their leotards and tights rubbed and ground together.
With a startled gasp Robin felt a wave of weakness wash over her, as if she were her friend Supergirl being exposed to a sample of kryptonite. “Oh my god!” she silently panicked. “The sensations are… so powerful! Need to… focus!” Desperately she sought a way to fight the maddening waves of distraction, betrayed by her own body’s reaction.
Trying to ignore the incredible tingling that blossomed within her legs, she arched back even further, pulling and sliding her seemingly-electrified legs up the backs of Buy’s own tights, placing her heels in the hollows behind her opponent’s knees. She noted a slightly dreamy smile ghost over the masked villain’s lips, as if she too may share Robin’s love of sensations caused by nylon tights.
With the last of her waning strength, the near-helpless teenager shoved mightily upward, forcing Buy backward and tripping her over Robin’s entwining nylon-encased feet. Completely off-balance, Buy flailed backward, her brunette head striking the padded arm of a nearby sofa. She fell to the floor, totally unconscious.
Breathing hard, the young teen heroine turned to face the now uncertain-looking master criminal. The anger at her own secret betrayal colored her voice as much as her almost-defeat as she ground out, “I am REALLY getting tired of this!” With fists clenched she advanced on the now retreating Wall Street as he backed wide-eyed into the adjacent workbench-dominated area.
“Now see here, young lady,” temporized the terrified tycoon. “There’s no call for violence. There’s always a deal that can be brokered, some compromise wherein all parties find satisfaction.” His retreat was halted as he bumped into an unyielding table.
Readying herself to pounce Robin replied, “Oh, but I’m afraid that these talks have reached a real sticking point. I’m quite unable to move from my position.”
“I was afraid you’d say something like that,” meekly replied the defeated capitalistic crimelord. And without warning his hand shot forth and pressed a control switch affixed to the table behind him.
Before she could fully register his actions, it was as if a giant’s hand wrapped itself around the young heroine’s lithe waist and forcefully pulled her backward. The silky nylon tights encasing her still-bootless feet offered no friction as she slid. “Uhhh…,” she gasped as she was pulled crushingly against a large device bolted perpendicular to the main workbench’s surface.
“What is…, uhhh…, this crushing…, uhhh…, grip?” gasped the suddenly imperiled young heroine. “I can’t… break free…, uhhh…, of its… devilish grip!” Try as she might, the frightened Robin could not pry her mid-section away from the device’s invisible hold on her.
“That’s exactly as it should be, my trapped pretty bird,” soothed the no longer fearful Wall Street. “I’m sure you know that a necessary tool in the manufacture of forged credit cards is an industrial strength electric degausser.”
“Holy immoveable object!” exclaimed the helplessly struggling heroine. “This device…, uhhh…, is holding me prisoner… by the metallic items in my…, uhhh…, utility belt! That’s twice… you’ve used…, uhhh…, my own items… against me.” “Or three times, counting my almost succumbing to my own nylon-enhanced weakness!” she thought. “My own belt…, uhhh…, squeezing my waist! Getting hard to… breathe. Uhhh… Can’t resist this… devilish grip!”
Leisurely removing a cigar from his shirt pocket, the financial felon slowly approached the vainly struggling young teen. “Yes my captive young Robin, I’m afraid I’m forced to bring your trading day to a close.”
The nylon fabric of her tights sliding ineffectually across the floor’s slippery surface, the Girl Wonder writhed within the seemingly insatiable hunger of the powerful magnet’s attraction. “You… fiend! Uhhh…, You can’t… do this to me!” In desperation, her gloved hands begin weakly trying to activate her utility belt’s release, hoping to free herself from its insidious grasp.
Seeing her intent, Wall Street said, “Now, now Robin, you’re not allowed to walk out early on negotiations.” He quickly closed the distance between them.
“So… weak,” the struggling teen girl gasped against the crushing pain. “Can’t fall…, uhhh…, into your… uhhh…, vile clutches.”
Bending slightly to face her, the dastardly villain smiled almost apologetically. “They say, my dear Robin, that money never sleeps. But you do.” With a small motion he activated his evil fake cigar, causing it to emit a small puff of his dreaded knockout gas
Held fast as she was, the struggling teenage captive was unable to avoid the gas as it clouded around her desperate features, instantly causing her writhing motions to become less pronounced. “Nooo…,” she said drowsily. “Please don’t… take me… prisoner. Caann’t… rrreesssisssst… aaannnnyyy… mmooorrree…” And almost gratefully, Robin’s masked eyes drooped closed as she fell into a darkened oblivion.
Can't move... This device... holding me by my... sheer tights... has me powerless!
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mask hunter
- Neophyte Lvl 5
- Posts: 44
- Joined: 20 years ago
- Contact:
awsome story.... cant wait to see what trap she awakes in.....
Neither can I! 
Working out exactly how to proceed; don't want to disappoint with a "... and then she woke up and escaped" kind of ending.
Working out exactly how to proceed; don't want to disappoint with a "... and then she woke up and escaped" kind of ending.Can't move... This device... holding me by my... sheer tights... has me powerless!
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mask hunter
- Neophyte Lvl 5
- Posts: 44
- Joined: 20 years ago
- Contact:
what about a scene where they decide to hang robin from teh flag pole. so they carry her to the roof top, tie her and put noose around her neck.
then going to push her over the edge.
then going to push her over the edge.
Like sunrise on a foggy morning, cloudy light and muted sound slowly began to blossom into Robin’s senses as the effects of Wall Street’s knockout gas began to wear off. Dimly she becomes aware of her environment. She groggily shakes her head in an effort to awaken her senses. “Uhhh…,” she moans, trying to shake off the effects of her anesthetic attack.
With a start she realizes that she cannot move. Lying on her back, the captured young crimefighter tries to look down at her immobile form. She discovers that she is bound mummy-like from shoulders to ankles in a tightly wrapped strap of red plastic. “Can’t… move,” the teen heroine thinks, vainly struggling against the strong binding. “Sticky stuff… has me completely… in its grip!” Adding to her dismay, she could plainly see her suntan tights-covered feet, remembering doffing her green boots during her battle with the vile henchgirls Buy and Sell.
“Well, lookee who’s awake,” cooed a teasing feminine voice. Turning her head, Robin saw she was being closely watched by the diabolical trio of Wall Street and his beautiful and deadly assistants. And it was then that the imperiled young heroine began to take in her surroundings.
It was some large type of warehouse or manufacturing plant, her mind categorized instantly. The large darkened space, supported by large metal beams and girders, was dominated by a huge mechanical apparatus resembling a gigantic printing press, into which fed a wide plastic-covered conveyor belt. A conveyor belt that, she noted with alarm, she was currently lying atop. Beginning to sense her grave danger, the teen captive renewed her struggles, hoping to move her hands nearer to her famed utility belt.
“Looking for something, my pet?” impishly asked a sweet-voiced Buy. Refocusing her attention on the criminal cohorts, she couldn’t hide a look of alarmed surprise. For there, adorning the alluringly trim waist and hips of the leotard and tights-wearing henchgirl, was her own utility belt! “I just love this precious little prize. Can’t wait to see all the fun trinkets you’ve got stashed in here.”
Futilely shrugging her shoulders and trying to pull her tightly-bound legs apart, Robin tried to muster a false bravado. “You know you’ll never… get away with this! I’ll find a way… out of your… evil trap, you… dastardly dealmaker!”
“Oh pretty birdie,” mocked Wall Street. “While I love to trade in stocks and bonds, it’s your own bonds you should be worrying about. It seems you’re all bogged down in ‘red tape.’ But I really can’t let you continue to interfere with my insider trading.”
“What are you… going to do with me?” asked the increasingly frightened Robin, knowing she could expect no mercy from this evil mastermind.
“Welcome to the former Vista card production facility,” gloated the moneyed maniac. “Right about now I’d say ‘It’s everywhere you DON’T want to be.’ For I’ve chosen its impressive credit card embossing machine as the instrument of your undoing. You’ll be quite unable to escape as the cards that you’re currently lying on are slowly fed into the crushing rollers of the high-pressure embosser.”
“You financial fiend!” said the hopelessly bound young girl. “You can’t… do this to me!” All the while, her desperate writhing proved useless, the red tape’s adhesive even preventing her from rolling off the conveyor belt.
“As much as we’d love to stay and watch,” said the arch-criminal, “We’ve got to go prepare for some pressing business. But then again, you’ve got your own pressing business to attend to.” And with that, he depressed a large green wall-mounted button.
With the rising sound of immense machinery, the helpless young heroine felt the belt beneath her trim figure begin its slow movement forward. With backward glances, both of Wall Streets vile vixens smiled and followed their criminal master deeper into the cavernous space.
“Got to escape…, uh…, these hideous bonds!” But try as she might, the writhing Robin couldn’t loosen the sticky bindings entwining her. “So helpless within…, uh…, these tight straps!” she panted. She kept trying to alternate bending one nylon-clad knee, then the other, hoping in vain to work her lithe legs free from the encircling trap. But she was powerless to break free.
Feeling unexpected warmth slowly begin to work its way up her feet and legs, she looked up to see a long row of infrared heat lamps suspended above the conveyor, their powerful energies designed to heat the plastic cards, making them malleable for the ensuing embossing procedure. “Holy roasted Robin,” said the trapped teenager, the increasing temperature sapping more of the already-weakened heroine’s strength. “First rotisseried…, then crushed. I think this…, uh…, might be the end.”
With her ebbing strength, she suddenly noticed that her bonds were beginning to loosen. She found that she was starting to feel a slackening in the tightness of the encasing tape; using her remaining strength she was able to pull her tights-clad legs further apart. And she was able to begin working free of the adhesive plastic imprisoning her upper body. “Must be the…, uhh…, heat, helping soften…, uhh…, the tape.”
Knowing she had very little time, Robin used her feet for what little leverage she could and rolled herself off the conveyor, just as it began feeding into the maw of the deadly device. Landing hard on the building’s concrete floor, she continued her struggles, finally working herself free from the entwining adhesive bindings.
Breathing heavily, the young superheroine knelt on the cold floor, and began to plan her next move…
With a start she realizes that she cannot move. Lying on her back, the captured young crimefighter tries to look down at her immobile form. She discovers that she is bound mummy-like from shoulders to ankles in a tightly wrapped strap of red plastic. “Can’t… move,” the teen heroine thinks, vainly struggling against the strong binding. “Sticky stuff… has me completely… in its grip!” Adding to her dismay, she could plainly see her suntan tights-covered feet, remembering doffing her green boots during her battle with the vile henchgirls Buy and Sell.
“Well, lookee who’s awake,” cooed a teasing feminine voice. Turning her head, Robin saw she was being closely watched by the diabolical trio of Wall Street and his beautiful and deadly assistants. And it was then that the imperiled young heroine began to take in her surroundings.
It was some large type of warehouse or manufacturing plant, her mind categorized instantly. The large darkened space, supported by large metal beams and girders, was dominated by a huge mechanical apparatus resembling a gigantic printing press, into which fed a wide plastic-covered conveyor belt. A conveyor belt that, she noted with alarm, she was currently lying atop. Beginning to sense her grave danger, the teen captive renewed her struggles, hoping to move her hands nearer to her famed utility belt.
“Looking for something, my pet?” impishly asked a sweet-voiced Buy. Refocusing her attention on the criminal cohorts, she couldn’t hide a look of alarmed surprise. For there, adorning the alluringly trim waist and hips of the leotard and tights-wearing henchgirl, was her own utility belt! “I just love this precious little prize. Can’t wait to see all the fun trinkets you’ve got stashed in here.”
Futilely shrugging her shoulders and trying to pull her tightly-bound legs apart, Robin tried to muster a false bravado. “You know you’ll never… get away with this! I’ll find a way… out of your… evil trap, you… dastardly dealmaker!”
“Oh pretty birdie,” mocked Wall Street. “While I love to trade in stocks and bonds, it’s your own bonds you should be worrying about. It seems you’re all bogged down in ‘red tape.’ But I really can’t let you continue to interfere with my insider trading.”
“What are you… going to do with me?” asked the increasingly frightened Robin, knowing she could expect no mercy from this evil mastermind.
“Welcome to the former Vista card production facility,” gloated the moneyed maniac. “Right about now I’d say ‘It’s everywhere you DON’T want to be.’ For I’ve chosen its impressive credit card embossing machine as the instrument of your undoing. You’ll be quite unable to escape as the cards that you’re currently lying on are slowly fed into the crushing rollers of the high-pressure embosser.”
“You financial fiend!” said the hopelessly bound young girl. “You can’t… do this to me!” All the while, her desperate writhing proved useless, the red tape’s adhesive even preventing her from rolling off the conveyor belt.
“As much as we’d love to stay and watch,” said the arch-criminal, “We’ve got to go prepare for some pressing business. But then again, you’ve got your own pressing business to attend to.” And with that, he depressed a large green wall-mounted button.
With the rising sound of immense machinery, the helpless young heroine felt the belt beneath her trim figure begin its slow movement forward. With backward glances, both of Wall Streets vile vixens smiled and followed their criminal master deeper into the cavernous space.
“Got to escape…, uh…, these hideous bonds!” But try as she might, the writhing Robin couldn’t loosen the sticky bindings entwining her. “So helpless within…, uh…, these tight straps!” she panted. She kept trying to alternate bending one nylon-clad knee, then the other, hoping in vain to work her lithe legs free from the encircling trap. But she was powerless to break free.
Feeling unexpected warmth slowly begin to work its way up her feet and legs, she looked up to see a long row of infrared heat lamps suspended above the conveyor, their powerful energies designed to heat the plastic cards, making them malleable for the ensuing embossing procedure. “Holy roasted Robin,” said the trapped teenager, the increasing temperature sapping more of the already-weakened heroine’s strength. “First rotisseried…, then crushed. I think this…, uh…, might be the end.”
With her ebbing strength, she suddenly noticed that her bonds were beginning to loosen. She found that she was starting to feel a slackening in the tightness of the encasing tape; using her remaining strength she was able to pull her tights-clad legs further apart. And she was able to begin working free of the adhesive plastic imprisoning her upper body. “Must be the…, uhh…, heat, helping soften…, uhh…, the tape.”
Knowing she had very little time, Robin used her feet for what little leverage she could and rolled herself off the conveyor, just as it began feeding into the maw of the deadly device. Landing hard on the building’s concrete floor, she continued her struggles, finally working herself free from the entwining adhesive bindings.
Breathing heavily, the young superheroine knelt on the cold floor, and began to plan her next move…
Can't move... This device... holding me by my... sheer tights... has me powerless!
-
mrdeathtrap
- Neophyte
- Posts: 2
- Joined: 12 years ago
Hello Sign,
I've just discovered your writing, which I'm very much enjoying. It's a nice change of pace to have a Batman '66 esque story among material intended for an older audience. So, I'm especially enjoying your stories of Robin the Girl Wonder.
I'm guessing its the prominent (and welcome) henchwomen in your stories who insist on killing the heroine and getting on the with the job. Simply eliminating the goody-two-shoes distractions is just practical.
On this story, I like the choice of green for the text. It fits.
Mr. Deathtrap
I've just discovered your writing, which I'm very much enjoying. It's a nice change of pace to have a Batman '66 esque story among material intended for an older audience. So, I'm especially enjoying your stories of Robin the Girl Wonder.
I'm guessing its the prominent (and welcome) henchwomen in your stories who insist on killing the heroine and getting on the with the job. Simply eliminating the goody-two-shoes distractions is just practical.
On this story, I like the choice of green for the text. It fits.
Mr. Deathtrap
-
mrdeathtrap
- Neophyte
- Posts: 2
- Joined: 12 years ago
Sign,
I discovered your stories with Robin the Girl Wonder and am enjoying them immensely. It's nice to find someone writing stories in the spirit of Batman '66.
Robin is great and I enjoy your focus on your characters and their enemies. The idea of Wall Street binding Robin with red tape is classic and making the text green is a nice touch, too.
Happy Thanksgiving and i'm eagerly looking forward to more.
Mr. Deathtrap
I discovered your stories with Robin the Girl Wonder and am enjoying them immensely. It's nice to find someone writing stories in the spirit of Batman '66.
Robin is great and I enjoy your focus on your characters and their enemies. The idea of Wall Street binding Robin with red tape is classic and making the text green is a nice touch, too.
Happy Thanksgiving and i'm eagerly looking forward to more.
Mr. Deathtrap
“You just won’t give up, will you?” asked the silken voice of the villainous henchgirl Buy. The panting teen heroine’s head snaps up at the unexpected voice. Seeing the sinuous enemy, all Robin’s attention was focused on her own utility belt adorning Buy’s trim waist.
With a wordless growl of pent-up anger, the young heroine leapt at her enemy, catching her unawares and off balance. Both lithe young combatants tumbled to the factory floor, each one fighting for advantage. Rolling atop one another, their gloved hands seeking purchasing on the curvaceous form of the other. Grunts and sounds of strain emanated form the battle.
Robin knew that her opponent had a size advantage and she needed room to maneuver. She allowed herself to be pushed down onto her back. Instinctively the vile henchgirl spread her tights-covered legs and moved to sit straddling Robin, pinning her to the floor. But the young crimefighter expected that exact move.
At the last moment, Robin drew her legs together and placed her nylon-clad feet in Buy’s trim stomach. “Uhhh…!” the girl wonder groaned as she kicked the surprised Buy, propelling her several yards away to land in a heap. “All right,” said Robin as she rose into a fighting stance. “I am tired of getting pushed around by you.”
Untangling her sinuous limbs, the evil Buy rose and faced the young champion of justice. “Oh little birdie,” she said. “I’m just getting started pushing you around.” And with that she lunged forward to once again grapple with Robin. As their forearms locked together, both young women instantly realized Robin’s grave disadvantage. The force of Buy’s attack didn’t stagger the young heroine, but her bootless, tights-covered feet began sliding backward.
“Uh…, Still can’t… get traction!” thought the teenager. Buy pressed her advantage and succeeded in slowly forcing the struggling heroine backward. Within moments she is painfully shoved with her back pinned against the rough upright surface of one of the factory’s large iron beams. “Uhhh! Ohhh…” Momentarily dazed by the impact her hands fall limply to her sides.
Remembering their earlier battle in Wall Street’s penthouse, Buy purrs, “Oh… pretty… Robin…” The vile vixen then takes her hands and places them on the still-groggy heroine’s inner thighs. With a dreamy evil grin she slowly begins raking her fingertips up Robin’s matte tights.
“Oh god… no,” whimpers the imperiled girl heroine. Falling back weakly against the beam she feels waves of tingling energy coursing through her body. “Please…, uh…, don’t do this… to me.” While Robin’s mind tried to race through her options for escape, all her thoughts were clouded by the same powerful weakness captivating her body.
“Oh my sweet little heroine,” said the velvet voice of Buy as she continued to massage Robin’s tights-clad legs. “I thought I noticed something earlier. Tell me Robin, how does this make you feel, hmmm?”
Betrayed by her body’s reaction to Buy’s incredible touch, it was as if she were bound by Wonder Woman’s famed lasso of truth. “Your touch… driving me…, uh…, crazy,” she gasped. “Feels so… good on my… tights. Uh… Makes me… so weak. Can’t… resist you.” Blinding panic burst through the young girl’s mind. She had just admitted a weakness even more imperiling than losing her utility belt. Her belt…
As the vile vixen continued her weakening massage, it was obvious that she too shared Robin’s maddening attraction and pressed her leotard and tights-clad body slowly closer to her helpless captive. Summoning all her willpower, the teen heroine slowly brought her gloved hands upward, placing them on Buy’s outer thighs. Even as her body surrendered itself to her nylon tights weakness, she slowly slid her hands around Buy’s muscular legs to her taut backside.
With a startled gasp, Buy released her own inhibition and gloried in the sensations that Robin’s touch provoked, as well as her own manipulation of the younger girl’s vulnerability. As Robin pulled inward Buy moved forward, completely touching the lithe teen heroine’s body.
While her body was the completely and willingly surrendered plaything of Wall Street’s henchgirl, Robin’s mind was buffeted like a small ship on a storm-tossed sea. Soft moans escaped her trembling lips as she pressed against her captor’s incredible form. “Please…,” she weakly pleaded. “Don’t… do… this,…uh…, to me.” Her breath came in short gasps as she desperately fought for control.
Robin’s hands ever so slowly crept upward, following every curve of buy’s luscious body. Buy responded with moans and grunts of pleasure and surprise. She knew she was totally in control of the teen crimefighter. Immersing herself in the pure pleasure of the embrace, Buy purred, “Oh Robin…, umm…” And Buy began moving her head closer to Robin’s masked face, her eyes heavy-lidded from pleasure.
Robin continued moving her hands across Buy’s skintight costume, slowly approaching her waist. As she saw her evil enemy move in closer she knew she wouldn’t be able to resist. Almost of its own accord, her face moved toward Buy’s pursed lips.
The explosion of sensation that flooded the girl wonder as their lips met was overwhelming. All her passions were electrified and she knew that Buy was lost in the same miasma. Lips together and tongues probing one another’s mouths, Robin held fast to buy’s swaying body. Still grasping the small of the older girl’s back, she surrendered herself to the intensity of the kiss and still began to turn Buy’s body around. Almost in a dancing embrace the two women turned slowly, until Buy’s back was now almost touching the iron support.
With her last erg of control, Robin hesitantly pulled back from the all-consuming kiss. The look of a pouting question formed on Buy’s face as she drew slightly back from Robin’s warm body. And just as Buy’s realization snapped into place, she heard the tiniest click, that of a small control that Robin’s tingling finger had been able to locate on her stolen utility belt.
Instantly Buy’s lithe form was yanked backward, landing hard against the iron beam. Jerking forward, she realized she had somehow been trapped magnetically against the beam. Struggling, she watched a small grin slowly come over Robin’s face. It was at that moment she heard a faint whirring sound coming from low and behind her.
And then the Bat MagnaClimbers fully engaged. The red-faced villainess shot straight up the height of the beam, seemingly rocketed almost 20 feet in the air, stopping only when her head came into contact with a horizontal iron crossbeam. Hard. With a nicely resounding CLANG.
With a weak but satisfied smile, Robin the girl wonder made her way deeper into the shadowy credit card factory. She needed a moment to regain her physical and mental equilibrium. “OK Wall Street,” she muttered to herself. “It’s time to ring your closing bell.”
With a wordless growl of pent-up anger, the young heroine leapt at her enemy, catching her unawares and off balance. Both lithe young combatants tumbled to the factory floor, each one fighting for advantage. Rolling atop one another, their gloved hands seeking purchasing on the curvaceous form of the other. Grunts and sounds of strain emanated form the battle.
Robin knew that her opponent had a size advantage and she needed room to maneuver. She allowed herself to be pushed down onto her back. Instinctively the vile henchgirl spread her tights-covered legs and moved to sit straddling Robin, pinning her to the floor. But the young crimefighter expected that exact move.
At the last moment, Robin drew her legs together and placed her nylon-clad feet in Buy’s trim stomach. “Uhhh…!” the girl wonder groaned as she kicked the surprised Buy, propelling her several yards away to land in a heap. “All right,” said Robin as she rose into a fighting stance. “I am tired of getting pushed around by you.”
Untangling her sinuous limbs, the evil Buy rose and faced the young champion of justice. “Oh little birdie,” she said. “I’m just getting started pushing you around.” And with that she lunged forward to once again grapple with Robin. As their forearms locked together, both young women instantly realized Robin’s grave disadvantage. The force of Buy’s attack didn’t stagger the young heroine, but her bootless, tights-covered feet began sliding backward.
“Uh…, Still can’t… get traction!” thought the teenager. Buy pressed her advantage and succeeded in slowly forcing the struggling heroine backward. Within moments she is painfully shoved with her back pinned against the rough upright surface of one of the factory’s large iron beams. “Uhhh! Ohhh…” Momentarily dazed by the impact her hands fall limply to her sides.
Remembering their earlier battle in Wall Street’s penthouse, Buy purrs, “Oh… pretty… Robin…” The vile vixen then takes her hands and places them on the still-groggy heroine’s inner thighs. With a dreamy evil grin she slowly begins raking her fingertips up Robin’s matte tights.
“Oh god… no,” whimpers the imperiled girl heroine. Falling back weakly against the beam she feels waves of tingling energy coursing through her body. “Please…, uh…, don’t do this… to me.” While Robin’s mind tried to race through her options for escape, all her thoughts were clouded by the same powerful weakness captivating her body.
“Oh my sweet little heroine,” said the velvet voice of Buy as she continued to massage Robin’s tights-clad legs. “I thought I noticed something earlier. Tell me Robin, how does this make you feel, hmmm?”
Betrayed by her body’s reaction to Buy’s incredible touch, it was as if she were bound by Wonder Woman’s famed lasso of truth. “Your touch… driving me…, uh…, crazy,” she gasped. “Feels so… good on my… tights. Uh… Makes me… so weak. Can’t… resist you.” Blinding panic burst through the young girl’s mind. She had just admitted a weakness even more imperiling than losing her utility belt. Her belt…
As the vile vixen continued her weakening massage, it was obvious that she too shared Robin’s maddening attraction and pressed her leotard and tights-clad body slowly closer to her helpless captive. Summoning all her willpower, the teen heroine slowly brought her gloved hands upward, placing them on Buy’s outer thighs. Even as her body surrendered itself to her nylon tights weakness, she slowly slid her hands around Buy’s muscular legs to her taut backside.
With a startled gasp, Buy released her own inhibition and gloried in the sensations that Robin’s touch provoked, as well as her own manipulation of the younger girl’s vulnerability. As Robin pulled inward Buy moved forward, completely touching the lithe teen heroine’s body.
While her body was the completely and willingly surrendered plaything of Wall Street’s henchgirl, Robin’s mind was buffeted like a small ship on a storm-tossed sea. Soft moans escaped her trembling lips as she pressed against her captor’s incredible form. “Please…,” she weakly pleaded. “Don’t… do… this,…uh…, to me.” Her breath came in short gasps as she desperately fought for control.
Robin’s hands ever so slowly crept upward, following every curve of buy’s luscious body. Buy responded with moans and grunts of pleasure and surprise. She knew she was totally in control of the teen crimefighter. Immersing herself in the pure pleasure of the embrace, Buy purred, “Oh Robin…, umm…” And Buy began moving her head closer to Robin’s masked face, her eyes heavy-lidded from pleasure.
Robin continued moving her hands across Buy’s skintight costume, slowly approaching her waist. As she saw her evil enemy move in closer she knew she wouldn’t be able to resist. Almost of its own accord, her face moved toward Buy’s pursed lips.
The explosion of sensation that flooded the girl wonder as their lips met was overwhelming. All her passions were electrified and she knew that Buy was lost in the same miasma. Lips together and tongues probing one another’s mouths, Robin held fast to buy’s swaying body. Still grasping the small of the older girl’s back, she surrendered herself to the intensity of the kiss and still began to turn Buy’s body around. Almost in a dancing embrace the two women turned slowly, until Buy’s back was now almost touching the iron support.
With her last erg of control, Robin hesitantly pulled back from the all-consuming kiss. The look of a pouting question formed on Buy’s face as she drew slightly back from Robin’s warm body. And just as Buy’s realization snapped into place, she heard the tiniest click, that of a small control that Robin’s tingling finger had been able to locate on her stolen utility belt.
Instantly Buy’s lithe form was yanked backward, landing hard against the iron beam. Jerking forward, she realized she had somehow been trapped magnetically against the beam. Struggling, she watched a small grin slowly come over Robin’s face. It was at that moment she heard a faint whirring sound coming from low and behind her.
And then the Bat MagnaClimbers fully engaged. The red-faced villainess shot straight up the height of the beam, seemingly rocketed almost 20 feet in the air, stopping only when her head came into contact with a horizontal iron crossbeam. Hard. With a nicely resounding CLANG.
With a weak but satisfied smile, Robin the girl wonder made her way deeper into the shadowy credit card factory. She needed a moment to regain her physical and mental equilibrium. “OK Wall Street,” she muttered to herself. “It’s time to ring your closing bell.”
Can't move... This device... holding me by my... sheer tights... has me powerless!
-
RedMountain
- Overlord
- Posts: 585
- Joined: 19 years ago
Great chapter! Loved the kiss and then how Robin got out of her seemingly enjoyable situation! That is a rather effective weakness to emply, lets just hope she never gets caught by a villain/villainess who employs it while she is restrained and can't make any surprise moves to escape!
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mask hunter
- Neophyte Lvl 5
- Posts: 44
- Joined: 20 years ago
- Contact:
This is a totally amazing story, crafted so perfectly!!! Fantastic job Sign and thanks so much for sharing... LOVE your writing style and the character of Robin the Girl Wonder!!!
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mrdeathtrap
- Neophyte
- Posts: 2
- Joined: 12 years ago
Hello Sign,
Happy New Year.
Having avoided the fiscal cliff I wanted to let you know I'm hoping you might profit from revealing how Robin goes on to defeat Sell and Wall Street and what they might do to thwart her efforts, and how Buy could try repaying our heroine for ringing her bell.
Keep writing. I love your stories about the Girl Wonder.
Mr. Deathtrap
Happy New Year.
Having avoided the fiscal cliff I wanted to let you know I'm hoping you might profit from revealing how Robin goes on to defeat Sell and Wall Street and what they might do to thwart her efforts, and how Buy could try repaying our heroine for ringing her bell.
Keep writing. I love your stories about the Girl Wonder.
Mr. Deathtrap