Batgirl: The Price of Silence Ch. 03

Author's note: This story is not so much about the adventures of Batgirl, but more about the developing sexuality of Barbara Gordon. The storyline continues from that of 'Batgirl Risks All' and re-introduces the character of Jennifer Goodbody A.K.A. Sparrow.

Enjoy!

Warning! This story contains material of an adult nature and is intended for mature readers and for personal use only. No copyright infringement is intended.

Adventures Of Batgirl: The Price Of Silence

Chapter 3: A Secret Revealed

From his awkward position under the low bed, Cyril saw a pair of close-fitting, black-leather calf-length boots appear, from the hidden entrance, as their owner walked into the room, humming a tune to herself. The woman sat down, heavily, on the bed, then proceeded to pull off the boots, accompanied by a loud sigh of relief, while the dresser swung back into its normal position, sealing the secret entrance.

"Ah, that's better!" gasped a pleasant, musical, richly feminine voice. Its owner got up, and walked over to the dresser, in her stockinged feet.

Cyril risked a quick peek from under the bed, and nearly passed out with fright. "Batgirl?" he croaked, under his breath, watching, wide-eyed, as the masked avenger unbuckled her Kevlar breastplate, and pulled it off. Her hands rose to her Bat-cowl, and in one smooth motion, she drew it off her head, together with the built-in mask, and flame-red wig.

Cyril's eyes grew big as saucers, as Batgirl shook out her real hair, and he stared at the familiar features reflected in the dressing table mirror. "Barbara Gordon?" he gasped to himself. "Barbara Gordon is Batgirl!"

He drew back further under the bed, as Barbara arched her back and reached behind her, to unzip her stretch Lycra and Kevlar Bat-costume, and pull it off her shoulders, and down about her trim waist. She wriggled it down over her hips, and sat back down on the bed, to strip it from her long legs.

Her sports bra and panties quickly followed, and Cyril risked a quick peek, as she strolled over and opened up the secret passageway again, by means of a hidden switch under the dresser top. She hung up the Bat-costume on a peg inside. "She's absolutely gorgeous," he decided. The twenty-five year old girl, had a face and figure to match that of any top model or film star. She was five-feet nine-inches tall, and her vital statistics were a very sexy 35c, 24, 36. Her breasts were particularly round and shapely, now that they had escaped the confinement of her sports bra.

Barbara sat down on the stool in front of the dresser mirror, straight backed, and daintily wiped the dark purple lipstick from her full lips. Then, humming a little ditty to herself, she walked into the adjoining bathroom, and switched on the lights. Moments later, Cyril heard the sound of running water, as the shower was turned on and the girl adjusted the temperature of the water.

The wiry cat burglar was in a state of near apoplexy. He'd just discovered one of the most sought after secrets in the whole of the United States. "The daughter of Gotham's Police Commissioner is also the notorious vigilante, Batgirl!" he breathed. "God, that information could be worth millions, if I play my cards right?" He mused about the possible buyers. "The crime czars of Gotham would be my best bet," he decided, "people like the Joker, or Two Face, or The Riddler, or The Penguin, or maybe even some sort of Crime Consortium?"

Cyril was brought back from his daydreaming, as he heard the shower spray cut off. "Shit, I've got to get outta here!" he snarled, under his breath. The door to the bathroom was directly opposite the door leading into the lounge. He quietly squirmed out from underneath the bed, and rose to his feet, before tiptoeing his way toward the open doorway.

Just at that moment, Barbara appeared in the bathroom doorway, a towel about her damp hair, and in the act of wrapping a short terry cloth robe about her shapely torso. "What the...? Hey, you, hold it right there!" she yelled, launching herself after the diminutive thief.

Cyril reached the open window, and reached for the karabiner attached to the friction device. Before he could clip it to his harness however, something smacked into the back of his knees, as Barbara tackled him like a pro footballer. He went down like a felled redwood!

The angry female hauled him roughly to his feet, oblivious to the fact that her robe had come open, and she was displaying everything she'd got to his ogling gaze. "Okay buster, what's your game?" she snarled, her green eyes flashing, dangerously.

"Don't hurt me! It's a fair cop, Batgirl!" he croaked, desperately trying to wriggle free of her powerful grasp, but with little success. "I was robbing your place, when you walked in on me!"

The redhead's eyes widened with shock. "Wha... What do you mean, Batgirl?" she gasped, the color draining from her face.

"I know you're The Batgirl, Ms Gordon!" he retorted, starting to feel a little cockier. "And I know all about the secret passage into this apartment!" By this time, Barbara Gordon's complexion had taken on a sickly pallor.

"And I also know your father is Jim Gordon!" he added, determined to press home his advantage.

"You... You little creep!" she snapped, releasing him, to pull her robe about herself. "You don't think anyone is going to believe that ridiculous story, do you? Especially when you're behind bars, serving time for robbery!"

Despite her outward show of bravado, Cyril could see the fear in those big expressive green eyes. He smirked. "Oh, if I wuz you, I wouldn't even consider turning me in, Ms. Gordon," he retorted, with an exaggerated shake of his head, before rising to his full five-feet seven-inches. "The cops might not believe me, but some mud is bound to stick, it always does? Some snooping reporter, is bound to come up with evidence to support my claim... sooner rather than later!"

Barbara blinked, realizing the truth in the little weasel's words. "All right punk, promise to keep your mouth shut, and hand back your loot, and I'm willing to turn a blind eye, just this once, being a kind-hearted sort of a gal!" she said, sternly, gripping him by the shoulders and shaking him hard.

"Well... okay, I promise," he agreed, with a confident grin, "provided you do a little something for me, first!"

"Oh, yeah?" She eyed him suspiciously. "And what might that be, punk?"

"Kiss me!"

"Huh?" Her big green eyes grew even bigger.

"Look, I've always been a little in love with the Batgirl," he pleaded, "ever since you first appeared on the Gotham scene! Just one little kiss... please, and I promise not to say a word? Your secret will be safe with me!"

Barbara's mind was racing. It was a relatively small price to pay, IF this little punk kept his mouth closed, but that was a big if. "Oh, all right!" she agreed. She stepped forward, and lightly brushed her full lips against his forehead. "There!"

"I meant a proper kiss... on the mouth!" he insisted, stubbornly.

"Why you... Oh, very well!" Barbara said, resignedly, and lowered her mouth to his.

Before she knew it, the little worm had grabbed her behind her neck, pulling her mouth hard up against his own, his tongue snaking into her partially open mouth, as she was about to yell.

"Mmmnngh!" Barbara gasped, trying to pull away, momentarily, before forcing herself to relax, and start to kiss him back. To her surprise, it wasn't such an obnoxious experience after all. She closed her eyes, and cautiously poked her tongue into his eager mouth, returning his oral ministrations, as her hands entwined about his neck. "Mmmm!"

Meanwhile, Cyril's hands were busy unraveling the cord about Barbara's slim waist, pushing open her bathrobe, before sliding them up over her firm stomach, and cupping her shapely breasts in his palms.

Barbara's eyes flew wide open, as his thumbs flicked at her prominent nipples, and she pulled away, sharply, taking a quick step backward. "Watch it, buster!" she warned, blushing a bright pink. "You've had your kiss, now get your goddamn ass outta my life... and remember your promise!"

"Sure, but don't tell me you didn't like it?" he retorted, nodding toward her stiff erect nipples, which were a dead give-away. "The name's Cyril, by the way, Cyril Smallpiece," he added, as a parting shot, as he clipped onto the line, and climbed out of the window, ready to rappel down to the ground. "See you around, Bat... er, Miss Gordon!"

Barbara stared after his fast disappearing figure, a small frown marring her forehead. She would be more than happy, if she never laid eyes on the puny cat burglar again!