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Wife turns husband into a cuckold.
She was unable to cover her breasts with her hands, since her wrists were still securely cuffed behind her back.
Hafnor stared at the shredded remains of the crotch of the prisoner's lacy panties, clearly revealing her pink, pouting pussy lips, together with her badly laddered and muddied hose. "You seem to have had some sort of accident, my dear," he observed, dryly.
Barbara blushed, furiously. "You... You don't have to keep staring at me like that, you... you pervert," she snapped, her eyes flashing, angrily.
"But you have such a gorgeous figure, my dear," Lew replied, slowly running his eyes over her near-naked body, taking in her magnificent pair of tits with their large areolas and prominent nipples, narrow waist, shapely flared hips and long, lithe legs. His eyes finally returned to her face and locked onto her big green eyes. He smiled at her. "In fact, you could be just what we've been looking for, don't you agree, Al?"
"She's the ideal person to play the role," agreed Al Peterson, his long-haired movie director and chief cameraman, enthusiastically. "Both her face and figure are absolutely perfect!"
Lew gave a curt nod to the man standing behind the redhead. Moments later, a foul smelling piece of cloth was clamped over the unsuspecting redhead's nose and mouth.
"Chloroform!" she realized, trying her best not to breath in the narcotic fumes, struggling in the man's powerful grip and tossing her head from side to side, in a futile attempt at shaking him off.
"I think you need a little sleep, to help you recover from your obvious ordeal," Hafnor continued, with an amused smirk.
The gorgeous redhead finally stopped struggling and her head slumped onto her impressive chest, as she drifted into unconsciousness, supported by the guard's arm around her slim waist.
November 19th, Stately Wayne Manor, 8:12 am
"Ms. Goodbody on the telephone for you, Sir!" Alfred Pennyworth informed his employer, Bruce Wayne.
"Thank you, Alfred," the handsome multi-millionaire replied, taking the telephone from his faithful old retainer's outstretched hand. "Hello, Jennifer, this is Bruce. What can I do for you?"
"Hi, Bruce! Have you heard from Barbara this morning?"
"No! Why, should I have?" he asked, frowning slightly.
"I've been trying to get hold of her, but she isn't answering the phone in her apartment, or her cell phone. I was wondering if Batgirl went out on patrol with you guys, last night?"
"No, she didn't, but she did come over earlier in the evening, to discuss the latest developments in the asphyxiation murders case. She must have left the Batcave shortly before eleven."
"Oh?" This was followed by a short silence.
"Look, if you're worried, Dick and I will pop over to her place and check that she's alright. I have a key that will get me into her apartment."
"Would you? I would be very grateful," Jenny said, in a relieved tone. "Thanks, Bruce!"
"No problem. Leave it with me."
November 19th, Barbara Gordon's Apartment, 9:25 am
Bruce Wayne let himself and his youthful ward, Dick Grayson, into Barbara's Apartment, situated in the tree-lined suburbs of the city. There were no sign of the red haired librarian, but her bed looked as if it had been recently slept in.
Dick picked up the nine-inch vibrator from the bedside table. "Looks like she didn't get a great deal of sleep last night," he observed, with an amused grin on his youthful features.
Bruce, ignoring his young companion's flippancy, felt under the dresser and pressed the hidden button that activated the entrance to the secret passage. When the dresser swung inward, he walked into the narrow passageway that had just been revealed.
"All of her Batgirl costumes appear to be here," he called out to Dick. "I'll just pop down to the garage and check on her Batgirlcycle."
He returned to the bedroom, a couple of minutes later. "Her motorbike is still here, and the exhaust is cold, so it hasn't been used recently. I did pop out back though, and her Mercedes appears to be missing from its usual parking slot."