Batgirl - The Return 11: The Last Train

by StealthBinder

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© Copyright 2013 - StealthBinder - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/ff; captives; bond; rope; tracks; train; gag; cuffs; chair; safe; mast; toys; climax; comicfic; cons/nc; X

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Part 11: The Last Train

Batgirl slowly awoke. Within a moment, she knew she was lying on her back, but what she was lying on was a complete mystery. As her head cleared, she took in her surrounding, trying to understand what was happening. It was colder now and darker, like she was outside, yet still a roof was over her head. Yes, she was on the flat of her back, but her arms were held above her head. She knew she was stick straight, with her legs pressed tightly together. Her wrists were also bound together and held above her head. When she tried to move, she quickly realized she was tied up to something that was cold, hard, rather narrow and unyielding. Something was between her teeth and tied on tight too.

It wasn’t the first time she awoke to find herself bound and gagged.

It was then when she realized where she was and what she was tied to. She was down below the train station, tightly bound to the iron rail of a train track. She was tied lying atop one of the two parallel rails, ropes encircling her body at the chest, waist, hips and knees, along with her bound wrists and ankles to hold her on top and to the thick cold iron.

She struggled and squirmed, but this time Catwoman had done a respectable job, for all the ropes were tight and well tied, with the knots out of her hands reach. Caught in the most classic of Damsel in Distress situations, it would almost be comical if it wasn’t so real.

Whenever one thinks of a damsel bound the train tracks in a movie, she was usually depicted perpendicular to the rails, with the majority of her body lying between the rails. Only her head or neck would be on the actual rail. Here she was laying completely on a rail, so when the train came, the wheels would not just strike her in the head, but run completely over her slender body, from booted toes to bound hands, and everything in between.

Of course, Catwoman was there, her wonderfully shaped body silhouetted in the dim light as she slowly waked up between the rails, her gold belt and necklace reflecting the dim light, gloating over the helpless heroin.

“Ah, good, you’re both awake now.”

Both?

Batgirl looked to her left to see Jennifer Wentworth, still wearing her undies and heels, tied identity to the other rail track and sporting a classic cleave gag as well. She was squirming in her restraints, looking back at Batgirl for help and assurance, but expecting neither.

“And you’re both right on time to catch your train.” Catwoman said, looking at a gold pocket watch, one she stole from the jewelry store for just this purpose, leaving the little train in its place.

Both bound women looked up at the female thief, wondering what she meant. She snapped the cover closed then swung it around by the gold chain it was attached to as she stalked catlike between her preys.

“Oh, I see you don’t understand so let me tell you everything you need to know.” She said. “While you may know that the Victorian style station above us has not been used for a decade or two, the tracks you both are tied to are a different story.”

Batgirl looked at the rail that Jennifer’s hands were bound to. Indeed the top of the raid was gleaming, as if it was polished. An unused track rusts over, but the wheels of a rolling train, which can number into the hundreds depending on the number of cars being pulling, will buff the rail clean and smooth as they roll over it.

“The fact is the line you’re tied to is used twice a day, and both times after dark, when a long nightly freight train leaves Gotham Harbor, and another enters before dawn, bringing and taking goods from the ships that dock there. Since the station is no longer is use, they skip the bypass line and set the switch to go right through here, avoiding the need to slow down. Both are heavily laden with goods and often running late, so they ignore the posted speed limits for this part of the line, often accelerating as they come off the curve just down the line. The later it is, the faster they will go to make up for lost time.”

As this information sunk into the helpless woman, Catwoman opened her watch again and checked the time.

“Late again.” She hissed and snapped it shut once more. “It should have left the harbor 5 minutes ago. Ah, but in your current state, you need not worry. You’ll both catch that last train tonight, no matter how late it will be.” She gleefully said. She then bent down and placed the watch next to Batgirl’s head. She could hear it ticking as the feline caressed her purple covered breasts.

“But while we wait for time to run out, I do not wish to be bored, so I’ll play with my cat toys to keep myself entertained.”

To torment her helpless captives, Catwoman positioned herself between the rails and began to fondle Jennifer as well, toying with both of the bound women’s chests. Catwoman paw at their breasts for some time, able to reach both bound women from her spot between them. She meowed as she squeezed their boobs, dug her golden claws into them and searched for their nipples, which she found on Jennifer easily through her thin lace, but never quite could obtain with the helpless Batgirl.

After several minutes, Catwoman reached between Jennifer bound legs and slipped her finger under her panties to grope her pussy. She reached over and did the same on Batgirl, only rubbing her hard through her costume. It was more of an annoyance than erotic for Batgirl, but Catwoman seemed to be getting off on it, letting out string of purrs and meows as she groped her captives. The idea of first sexually tormenting then killing her subdued adversaries seemed a powerful stimulus for this Catwoman. Her body squirmed as she fondled the helpless women, rocking her hips back and forth like she was riding a man’s penis that was firmly planted inside her warmed up pussy. She panted and purred like she was building up to an orgasm. Then, when she was close, she stood up and her hands flung to her body, one on her chest the other to her own pussy, rubbing herself through her tight fitting black catsuit, crying out a moment later as she climaxed, looking down on her captives squirm in their well tied ropes with a merciless smile on her face.

“Sadistic feline!” Batgirl thought to herself as she watched in disbelief as her captor masturbate her.

“What a purr…fect ending to this day” She purred several minutes later with a satisfied, sinful smile on her lips, the afterglow of her orgasm still apparent in her masked eyes.

“As much as I would love to stay and watch, I have other matters to attend to, so I will leave you two to catch your train.” She added as looked down on her restrained captives. “They blow the whistle about a mile from the station, then at the half mile mark. But you will feel the rumble through the rails before anything. Their light will not shine on you till it’s too late, but you will be able to look up and see it coming when it rounds the bend just a half mile down the line. They won’t be able to halt in time to prevent your deaths, for a freight train that long and heavy, running at their speeds will take more than a mile of track to fully stop.”

She paused to let her words sink in for a moment. Jennifer squealed and struggled harder as she pleaded though her gag for be released while trying to break free of the ropes holding her to the rail. But the fear in her eyes told Catwoman there was no hope of escape and avoid the impending doom. Batgirl, on the other hand, seemed more diligent in her efforts, but sadly didn’t have that same hopeless look. She was calm, showing no sign of panic or fear. Catwoman was quite disappointed, for what good is it to gloat when your prey is not afraid? She decided to up her gloating.

“Your train will be coming soon. I remember an old myth that if you put a penny on the rail, you can cause a train to jump the tracks. You’re both a sight bigger than pennies. I hope you two don’t cause an unfortunate railway accident. If the train derails, they won’t find your smashed and broken bodies for days.” She said with a wide chesterfield cat smile and playful giggle, like she just got caught cheating at a board game but didn’t care, then meowed long and loud, as if the lion was roaring in triumph.

Catwoman turned away, her wonderfully shaped body silhouetted in the dim light once again, but looked back to throw out one final taunt at her victims as she slowly stalked away, her body, especially her perfectly shaped ass, swaying seductively into the darkness.

“Goodbye Mrs. Wentworth, I’m off to take control of your family’s fortune. Goodbye Batgirl, I wish you an unpleasant but timely death.”

Her steps slowly faded as she disappeared back into the station, as did her meowing. It was eerily quiet now, except for the pocket watch ticking near Batgirl’s ear, which seemed to be screaming at her that time was running out. Though the platform area was covered to keep the rain off the passengers as they boarded their luxury coaches, both ends of the area were open, letting in the night air. But little sound came in, other than the deep throated horns of ships and the usual melodic hum of the city.

Jennifer was still fervently struggling in her ropes, grunting and almost crying as she tried to break free, but knowing that her efforts we’re not going to yield any results. The thought of the heavy train rumbling down the tracks and smashing into her helpless frame were overwhelming her mind, making her wild with energy and terror.

Batgirl was less dramatic as she worked to free herself. Unlike earlier in the day when Catwoman bound Barbara Gordon to a tree so she could escape, she did a first class job this time, intending her rival to remain in place till the locomotive finished her off.

But Catwoman was not dealing with Barbara Gordon. Now she was dealing with Batgirl. She worked her fingers at the edge of her sleeve, toiling to open the small hidden pocket. Inside was a sharp blade with a small handle, perfect for cutting the ropes around someone’s wrists to get free of a villain’s deathtrap. Though she was skilled at applying ropes to render her victim incapacitated, had this been the real Catwoman she would have check for this tool, plus remove her utility belt, prior to rendering her captives in this situation. It would take only moments to get the blade from its hidden pouch and cut the ropes off.

But would those few moments be enough.

Batgirl felt it before she heard anything. The rail below her began to tremble, very slightly at first, but it was constant and slowly growing. She then heard a horn, blowing twice for several seconds each, though still at some distance. The evening train was on the move, now rolling with its log, heavy load.

And getting closer.

She got the blade from her sleeve, flipped it around and started to saw through the loops of rope binding her wrists together. The blade was sharp and she cut through the first one easily, but there were many more loops of rope to get through before she could free her hands entirely. More cutting followed and more loops fell away as the vibrations through the steel rail slowly grew.

The train was getting closer and moving faster with each second.

At last, she has cut away enough of the rope to break her hands free. Here another flaw in Catwoman’s plan became apparent, for had she tied her arms down to the rail at the elbows, her free hands would have been of little use. She pulled her arms down and reached for her BatKnife. Batgirl slashed the ropes on her chest and waist then went to work on her legs. In 10 or more seconds, she’d be free of the rail. She heard the train whistle blow, this time far closer than comfortable. It had reached the marker noting it was a mile from the station. Looking down the line, she could see the glow of the train’s headlights shining on the rails.

She would save herself, but Jennifer Wentworth was still completely helpless.

She slashed the last of her ropes, now completely free of the rail. She was stiff from being tied to the rail for so long but didn’t have time to work the kinks out. She flung herself across the gap between the rails. She slashed at the ropes holding Jennifer to the top of the cold steal bar, sparks flying as her blade hit the iron below the lace clad blonde. She could hear the diesel engines spooling up, applying more power to propel the train faster.

“Hold still.” She said, forgetting she was still gagged. Jennifer was squirming hard and squealing through her gag, making it difficult for Batgirl to get at the ropes and not slice skin. The ground was rumbling from the approaching multi-ton monster drawing closer and closer.

The train whistle blew again, now at the half mile marker. She looked up and saw the first engine had rounded the bend in the track, its bright lights shining into the station. Jennifer looked up and saw the train’s headlamps. She screamed in panic as Batgirl’s knife flashed down the ropes. She only had seconds left.

The horn sounded again. The engineer must have seen them and blasted a warning, knowing there was little he could do to prevent a disaster but hoping they’d get out of the way. The engineer applied the brakes, making a horrible screeching sound that would do little to stop the train in the too short distance between it and the two women, adding into the horn blast and Jennifer screams.

No horror film could have captured the scene better.

With the train just 50 feet from them, Batgirl sliced through the last rope binding the young widow to the rail. She dropped her blade, wrapped her arms around the still partly bound blonde and rolled them both off the rail and to the side of the tracks. It was so close that Batgirl swore the front of the train grazed the heel of her left boot. They rolled over two full times and then another half, till Batgirl came to rest on her back, with the petrified but completely unharmed Mrs. Wentworth lying on top of her, Batgirls arms still wrapped around her. They both looked over as the second then third locomotive rolled past, wheel after wheel passed over the spots where the two women were held captive, tearing the remaining ropes that had held them bound to the rails to shreds.

Batgirl let out a long breath and dropped her head to rest on the ground. Jennifer went limp, passing out from the danger of almost being smashed flat to the impossible rescue. Batgirl continued to hold the blonde beauty as she rolled her over, letting her rest on the ground for a moment till she came around. As the train rumbled by, Batgirl removed her gag and threw it aside, then worked to remove the gag and the last of the ropes form Jennifer. The brakes had stopped squealing on the endless train, the driver releasing his grip on them seeing that the two women had avoided the near-certain death.

As the last rope was discarded, Jennifer revived and looked up at her rescuer in. For a moment, she wondered if she was truly alive. All seemed bleak and hopeless, yet she was rescued at the last possible second by the woman who was as equally helpless just moments before. Was it possible she cheated death a second time, and had the purple clad crime fighter to thank for both?

For Batgirl, it was just another day at the office.

“Are you alright, Mrs. Wentworth?”

“Oh Batgirl, you did it. You saved us!” the blonde widow said. “Yes, yes, I’m fine, thanks to you!” she added as she grabbed the purple costumes girl in a huge hug. Batgirl held her loosely, not wanting to get too attached to the woman. She let Jennifer hug her for just a moment before pealing her arms loose.

There were other more pressing matters for Batgirl to yet deal with.

“Let’s get moving and get you somewhere safe.” She said as she helped Jennifer to her feet. The train was still rolling by, and Batgirl hoped she could make good use of it.

Instead of waiting for the train to finish rumbling past to take the widow back through the station, they moved away from it. She had Jennifer hide in the switchers shed, then headed over the tracks using a bridge that was dark and rather dilapidated. If her guess was correct, she could yet turn this thing around. Even before the end of the train was in sight, Batgirl was back in the main part of the station.

Now she was the hunter.

As Batgirl suspected, Catwoman never left the station. First she went up to one of the 3rd floor office that gave her a view of the railway lines leading into the station. Sitting in an old high back leather chair, she stroked her legs as she looked out the windows. She couldn’t see the harbor or the platforms from her perch, but she could see the train coming some miles off. She grew gleeful as it approached the station. Not able to contain herself, she headed down to a lower level where she watched both the train enter the station and her captives.

She was quite disappointed when she saw Batgirl had freed herself from the track, but has no idea how she did it. She cursed herself for underestimating the purple bat, but felt confident all would still end as planned. She almost went back into the yard to confront the caped crusader, but seeing how close the train was, and knew Batgirl would stay with the rich widow till the very end. She stood in the shadows and watched the roaring train glide up the line and close in on the helpless women, slamming on the brakes far too late to prevent the slaughter. She would have sworn on her 9 lives the train had plowed into them, even seeing Batgirl’s leg thrown up into the air when it struck her. And with no signs of life after the impact, she felt confident that she had succeeded in killing two birds while hiding in the bush. Only after the train was well out of the station would she confirm the kill.

She went back into the station and curled up on the marble steps, quite pleased with herself and brimming with confidence that this part of her plan had succeeded wonderfully. As she meowed, her hands started to glide over her body, feeling very frisky and excited by her triumph. Now all she needed to do was take control of the late Mrs. Wentworth’s estate and become richer than her wildest dream. Her hands moved to her breasts as she thought maybe she’d even make a play for Brad Wentworth and either by romance or by deception, taking control of the rest of the Wentworth family fortune. Maybe she’d buy this old station and turn it into her new cat-home.

This made her even hornier, and her hand went down between her legs. Oh, what a night!

With the last of the train rumbling by, she was about to indulge herself once more. But before she could make it to her goal something seemed to move behind her. When she first looked up, she saw nothing, but in a flash it was on her, rolling her down the marble steps to the bottom. The catfight was on, but it was over before it even started. She was on her chest and her hands were behind her back. Before she could react, something looped around her wrists, first her left then her right, locking them together in rings of hard steel. Seconds later, her ankles were tethered together and she rendered helpless, caught in two sets of handcuffs.

Batgirl looked down on her captive, pleased she had turned the tables so quickly and easily. Catwoman fought against her restraints, surprised and shock she was helpless at the hands of someone she thought was dead. Sadly, no criminal ever looked more ravishing when captured, cuffed and squirming.

Add a large, shiny ball gag and she would have made her a great bondage model.

“Batgirl!” Catwoman cried out then hissed at her. “Impossible! I saw the engine hit you! You should be dead.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.” Batgirl replied, with her feet apart and hands on her hips. “I’m alive and well, and so is Jennifer Wentworth.”

“No, it’s not possible! You, you, bitch!” She hissed again, now fighting the restraints even harder and rolling around on the floor.

“Not only possible, it’s true.” Batgirl replied, “You’ve failed Catwoman. And now that we’ve established my existence, let’s get the police….” Batgirl gasped.

Catwoman, looking every so sleek and sexy in her tight, body hugging catsuit was rolling around on the floor, as if she has been playing with a ball of twine. In the struggles, her matching black mask loosed and flew off, exposing her face in full. Reaching into her utility belt, Batgirl couldn’t believe it, but it was confirmed when she shined her Batlight on the captured criminal’s face.

“Catherine Wentworth!” she exclaimed.

“Who?” the handcuffed woman explained. “Who did you call me?”

“I, I don’t believe it. Catherine!” Batgirl said, now in complete shock.

“Who the hell is Catherine?!” “I’m Catwoman, you idiot! Are you so stupid that you don’t know me after all this time?”

Suddenly everything now made sense. It was Catherine’s voice, only more seductive than she ever heard it. Her eyes, those same eyes she’s seen at the funeral. There was no doubt who this really was, but it was as if Catwoman’s spirit had taken possession of her Catherine’s body, reborn into a new criminal figure.

And what about Jennifer? What was she going to think when she finds out her late husband’s daughter was the one trying to do her in?

This day just keeps going from bad to worse.

As she pondered these thoughts, Catherine/Catwoman was streaming a series of detailed threats, interlace with plenty of insults and cursing that echoed through the abandoned train station, most of which Batgirl ignored but was none the less tired of hearing. She shoved a small hanky into the thief’s mouth and tied on the same cleave gag she wore a short time earlier. At least it cut down on the noise.

Now she needed to decide what to do next.

* * *

An hour later, a small signal was received at Gotham City Police headquarters. It was a locater beacon, one of the units the caped crusaders would activate when they wanted to summon the police to a scene. They tracked the signal’s location and dispatched 3 squads to old The Columbia Avenue Transit Station. They arrived a short time late and secured the area. Police Commissioner James Gordon arrived and took control of the scene. They entered the old building, flashlights on and guns drawn.

Sitting on one of the many old oak benches in the dark abandoned building was Jennifer Wentworth, dressed only in skimpy underwear and expensive high heels, but covered in a thin plastic tarp.

“In there.” She said, pointing to one of the ticket counters. The police took her out to one of the squad cars, where they gave her a blanket to wrap up in and a cup of hot coffee from one of the patrolman’s thermos.

Once the kidnapped damsel was out of harm’s way, the Commissioner and his officers cautiously moved behind the ticket counter towards the steel door of the bank vault. Though the door was closed and barred, it remained unlock. They turned the wheel to retract the bars and opened the heavy door, noticing the light was on. With weapons up and at the ready, they were ready for anything.

Almost anything.

Inside the vault sat a black clad woman. Even tied with all the ropes and cleave gagged, Catwoman was still full of fight and carrying on. Her arms were behind the chair and more ropes secured her chest and waist to the back while more ropes ran across her hips to hold her down to the seat. Her legs were spread apart and tied to the outside of the chair legs. Between her legs, taped to the seat was a vibrator, running full blast.

The officers couldn’t tell if she was bitching or climaxing.

“Well, Lord be praised” one of the officers said. “Catwoman has returned.”

“It’s been a while since we’ve seen the likes of her.” Another said as the holstered their guns. “How’d she end up like this?”

“Who cares, but get some pictures before she gets loose!” a third said, raising his personal cell phone to capture the sight.

Commissioner Gordon was not amused. “Knock it off.” He said. “And start acting like professional.”

Motioning his men to stay back, he approached the feline thief. Something wasn’t right here. He looked closely at the woman, noticing this was not the old Catwoman of past. But who was it behind that mask, he swore he knew and worried that he did. He reached up to her face, the woman trying not to let him touch her. He took her mask off, gasping at the face behind it.

“Catherine Wentworth” he said softly and sadly, he worries coming true.

She broke into a muted commentary, shaking her head. Gordon could tell she was telling him who she thought she really was.

Catwoman

The officers removed the subject from her chair and cuffed her even before removing the gag. A few moments later, the squad car was speeding toward the intake facility. The on-call Psychiatric doctor was woken up from his slumbers. He had a new patient.

Gordon shook his head, amazed at this latest development as the squad car took Catherine way. He had hoped they’d seen the last of Catwoman. The robbery was not a copycat act but it was indeed the Catwoman, or rather, a new Catwoman. He went outside, cursing softly in disgust and anger. Jennifer Wentworth was seated in the back of an ambulance, getting checked out before they took her to the hospital.

He looked up at the roof of the old, well-built station, hoping to catch a glimpse, but never did.

Batgirl waited on the roof of the station watching the police arrive, staying to see her father lead the group in and Jennifer out. She too shook her head as they placed Catherine in the back of a car, but recoiled when her father looked up at the roof. She made her exit, leaving the same way she came. In moments, she was on her Batcycle and heading home, not looking for more wrong doing and hoping no one saw her that night.


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26.02.13

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