Barbara was leaving class when she took out the comm unit, putting in ear buds she looked down at the smart phone like device. It was a gift from the bats and while it looked like a normal smart phone it was the latest from Wayne Tec's line of bat gadgets.
She choose to tap the commercial radio while she walked home.
"...enjoy the new single," the disc jockey said as a metal song started up.
Barbara listened as the bass strummed a rhythmic beat, that got faster and faster. Oddly a minute in and there was no lyrics. She thought she could almost hear the electric guitar talking to her but that was crazy. By the time the song changed to a pop
song Barbara felt uncomfortable. The khakis she was wearing seemed so itchy. She looked around and smiled when she saw the store with what looked like high end versions of Gotham's super characters as costumes in the window. It was weird, she could only
be a block or two from the community college but she couldn't remember that shop.
Walking in she knew that this wasn't a normal costume shop. This was a fetish shop. The woman behind the counter had on a leather corset and rubber leggings.
"Welcome to Gotham's Fetish," She smiled, "Let me know if you need anything."
"I want something that says Biker Bitch," Barbra blurted.
"Club, costume, lingerie, bedroom, or lifestyle," the shop girl asked.
"Lifestyle, bedroom and lingerie," Barbra smiled.
"Wetlook, vinyl, leather, latex, or rubber?"
"Whats the difference between latex and rubber?" Barbra asked back.
"Latex it treated to be more clothing like, rubber is molded," the shop girl smiled.
"Leather, latex and rubber then."
Barbra soon found herself enveloped in latex catsuits, leather pants and jackets, rubber fun-der-wear and was loving it. She even found things that might make Catwoman blush, but somehow Barbra doubted that. Hours later, a new wardrobe was paid for with
the special credit card that had been set aside for Batgirl's use.
Babs licked her lips as she ran her latex gloved hands over her new shell. The latex playsuit peeked out on her belly between the cropped leather jacket and leather pants and the opera gloves and thigh highs were a perfect match. She found her self grinding
her hips on the double dildos built into the groin of the playsuit. Knocking the heel of the combat boots against the curb she went over what else she had to do, piercings, tattoos, trading in her Vespa for a Harley, and setting up a dungeon in her apartment.
First things first.
"Hay Dick, meet me at my place tonight," she said into the comms unit, "Don't plan on going out on patrol."
Dick has been Batman's bitch long enough, now he was going to be Batbitch's gimp.