Enter Batgirl, Exit Micha (F/self) (Complete)

[Stiletto Amore]

It's been a month since the Dick Tracy roleplay, and life has settled back into its familiar rhythm. When I returned from the office, I found the house eerily quiet. There was no sign of either of the boys, but my eyes locked onto a neatly wrapped brown parcel adorned with a label bearing my name. Excitement bubbled within me as I tore away the wrapping, revealing a full-length purple and yellow Batgirl costume.
The label read, "Wear me!"

"Holy Lewis Carroll," I thought to myself, intrigued by what awaited. Racing upstairs to my bedroom, I quickly shed my rumpled business suit and eagerly slipped into the snug-fitting costume. The tight fabric sent a thrill through me as I added the cape and cowl, fully embracing the superhero role.
As the purple and yellow fabric clung to tight to my ample frame, I couldn't help but feel a surge of self-consciousness. Being something of a plus-sized woman, I was rather more accustomed to concealing, rather than flaunting my figure. The idea of donning a costume that showcased my curvy figure to such an extent gave me pause. However, reason prevailed – John had chosen this outfit for me, believing I would look good in it. His intention was clear: to celebrate my body, lumps and all.
Emboldened by this realisation, I stood before the mirror, taking in the image of Batgirl staring back at me. The snug costume accentuated my bust-line, and I felt suitability emboldened.
You know what they say, "Chin up, tits out,.."

My cape billowed behind me as I eagerly descended the stairs, a newfound confidence replacing any lingering traces of self-doubt.
To my surprise, a large, gift-wrapped box awaited me in the front room.
Suitably intrigued, I hastily tore away the wrapping, uncovering a pair of steel handcuffs, a roll of brown parcel tape and two brightly coloured bandanna's. A note, meticulously composed of letters cut from a newspaper ('it must have taken them ages' I thought to myself) accompanied the peculiar gift.

"The Joker" had penned a sinister invitation, claiming that Robin, The Boy Wonder had been kidnapped. The only way to secure his safety, the note declared, was for me (aka: Batgirl) to willingly take his place. A series of instructions followed, outlining how I should bind, gag and handcuff myself, leaving me in a state of utter helplessness.
"Tick-tock, Batgirl. The fate of your beloved Robin hangs in the balance.
Yours in mischief,
The Joker."

A sly grin spread across my face as I put down the note, amused by the unexpected turn of events. John, very much attuned to my newfound desires, had orchestrated a surprise roleplay game. The memories of our previous escapade as Dick Tracy and Tess Trueheart were still fresh, and the thrill of playing the damsel in distress had resonated deeply with me.

I began by dragging a dining chair into the hallway and placing it in front of the full length mirror.

As per the instructions, I began with my ankles.
Now, I don't know how many of you have tried to find the end of a roll of tape whilst wearing elbow length gloves, but trust me, it was a uniquely maddening experience. After several, frustrating minutes, I finally succeeded and was able to firmly tape my feet together, wrapping the sticky brown packing material around my thick ankles a total of four times before tearing it it free from the roll.

Kicking out my legs I found myself marvelling at the sight of my bound legs stretched out before me.
Even though I would have been able to get free any time I chose, it still felt strangely thrilling to have, even a small part of my body restrained.

Now, for the next part of my act,' I thought to myself as I shook out the purple bandanna and placed it over the lower half of my face and pulled it snugly (but not too tightly!) around my mouth.

I then watched myself in the mirror as I knotted the material behind my head and under my ponytail.
However, whilst this certainly looked the part, it wasn't terribly effective in keeping me quiet and I found I was able to talk quite freely, despite the gag.

"Help! Help! Somebody help little old me!" I intoned, in what I felt was a more than passable Southern accent.

Then, almost immediately, the solution presented itself - I would tie the handkerchief in my mouth, just like they do in the movies!
With exaggerated determination, I folded the cloth into a thick band before nervously placing it between my teeth and pulling it as tight as I dared and double knotting it behind my head.

"Mmmphh! Mmmph mpphh!" I heard myself yelp with mounting excitement.

I was now securely gagged, however in order to make myself truly helpless I would need to restrain my hands.

Taking the handcuffs, I placed my hands behind my back, and closed the shackles around each wrist in turn. The satisfying click echoed in the room, locking me in place.

With my transformation into a captive Batgirl complete, I sat in enforced silence, the thrill of anticipation coursing through me. The world became a realm of heightened sensations – the snug costume, the tightness of the scarf around my mouth, and the metallic coolness of the handcuffs.

The rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock seemed to synchronise with the excited fluttering in my chest

As I strained to hear any sign of my captor(s), time seemed to stretch. The minutes felt like hours, and the muffled sounds from the street outside only added to my excitement. I felt like a captive superhero who had been stashed away by an arch villain - it was my every wish come true.

I'm not sure how long I'd sat there, trussed up and gagged, but eventually I heard the phone ring.
For obvious reasons, no one answered and after a few rings, the call went to voice mail.
I tried not to laugh as I listened to our answer machine message, which had been recorded shortly after our Dick Tracy game:

"Hi, you've reached Micha and John, we're a bit tied up right now, but if you leave your name and number after the Beep, we'll get back to you just as soon as we're free"

"Holy Robert Louis Stevenson Batgirl!" Came John's cackling voice.
Channelling his inner Cesar Romero he continued,
“Oh, oh the look on your face must be priceless, all trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey.
Now, I suppose you're wondering about your precious ally Robin. Fear not, my dear Batgirl, the dynmaic dunderhead is safe and sound.
Of course, you'll have to trust me on that,..
(Cue more manic laughter)
Oh well, you know what they say, 'What Doesn't Kill You, Simply Makes You Stranger!'
Ciao-for-now!"

A few minutes later John called back, no longer in character this time
"Hi, Micha, it's me. Just calling to let you know I'm going to be a few minutes late getting home, I'm stuck in the worst traffic jam. I hope you're not too uncomfortable. ETA 30 minutes. Sit tight and I'll see you soon. Love you!"
[End of message]

Oh well, I thought to myself. half an hour isn't too long to wait to be rescued.
Settling in for the long haul, I shifted my bulk in the chair to try to get comfy.

But then came the fateful third phone call,..

"Hi, Micha, it's Diane. I hope you're doing well. I just wanted to let you know that Jessie forgot his soccer boots, and we'll be swinging by your place in the next half hour to pick them up. Hope that's okay. We won't stay long, just a quick in-and-out.
Let me know if you need anything or if you'd prefer us to wait until a better time. Hope to see you soon!"
[End of message]

Oh no.
Oh, goodness me no.
Not Diane.
Not my Mother-in-Law Diane.
My only hope was that my husband would arrive home before she did.
Oh crap, I thought to myself. I’m trapped in my very own sitcom.

[charliesmith]

Fantastic! I absolutely love this series

[TightsBound]

Great addition to these characters! I’m loving the costume choice, and it looks like there’s more trouble brewing for our new Batgirl!

[Reidy]

A cliffhanger worthy of the series itself.

[Stiletto Amore]

Fantastic! I absolutely love this series

That's lovely to hear. Thank you

[Stiletto Amore]

Great addition to these characters! I’m loving the costume choice, and it looks like there’s more trouble brewing for our new Batgirl!

Yay! So glad you're enjoying the series and that you approve of the costume choice.
Hmm, well, at the risk of spoilers, things are likely to get worse,.. before they get better for Micha

[Stiletto Amore]

A cliffhanger worthy of the series itself.

Thank you kindly

[Stiletto Amore]

For as long as I can remember, I've had a recurring nightmare where I find myself at the office, on a normal working day. Everything is fine, until I get up to give a presentation and I find that I am inexplicably naked. I imagine that it’s a dream that many of us have had in some iteration or other. Psychologists suggest it is less about a literal desire to be naked in public, but more likely is related to being embarrassed about people discovering an embarrassing secret about yourself. Well, I'm no expert, but I guess that being caught in a state of bondage by my Mother-in-law would certainly qualify. I suppose I should be grateful that in this particular nightmare I'm actually clothed, but as I'm currently dressed in a skin tight Superhero costume, this is very little consolation.
The other, noticeable difference my regular nightmare and my present situation, is that no matter how much I scrunch my eyes and tell myself it's all a dream, I can't seem to wake up,..

Experimentally I rattled my chains.
They certainly felt real enough.

Naturally, as a child of the theatre, I tried clicking my heels together, whilst reciting the mantra, 'There's no place like home', but two things were working against me in this endeavour.
Firstly, it seems I had made, rather a too thorough job of taping my ankles together.
And secondly, my mouth filling gag ensured that I sounded less like Judy Garland, and more like the Toxic Avenger after they had stepped on a stray piece of lego.

Ok, ok, so maybe this was really is happening,..

Dammit!

What would Nancy Drew do? I thought to myself, appealing to the patron saint of all tie-up games.
Well, knowing Nancy, she would find a way to pick the lock using a bent hair clip. Alas, this didn't seem to be a viable option for me as I had neither a hair clip, nor access to a youtube tutorial entitled how to learn lock-picking in 5 easy steps.

Then it struck me, my husband was many things, but he was also a stickler for health and safety. He would have almost certainly included a handcuff key in the package. I just had to find it.

With the remnants of the parcel back in the living room where I left them, I was left with little choice. I would have to hop my way over there.
With grim determination, I slowly struggled to my feet, almost losing my balance several times.
After taking a moment to compose myself I managed to perform a couple of small, experimental jumps on the spot without falling on my face.

So far so good.

With a series of slow, steady movements I begin the arduous task of hoping across the hallway and back into the living room in search of the handcuff key. My manacled hands flexing thoughtfully against the cuffs I raised my husky, spandex covered frame up and down on my toes, as I bounced my way through the house.

Carefully hopping through the door, I gazed thoughtfully at the discarded wrapping on the table. There, nestled among the detritus was a small, silver key.

Huzzah!

With much difficulty I turned my back to the table and fumbled for the key.
It was a laborious process, not dissimilar to attempting to operate the claw machine at a penny arcade whilst blindfolded.
Finally successful, I was just in the process of unlocking my shackles when I heard footsteps on the gravel path leading to our front door. I hoped against hope it was my husband, but instinct told me I could never be so lucky,..

With my hands finally free I threw myself the couch where I began desperately untangling the tape from around my ankles.
Shedding as much of the costume as I could I hastily threw on an oversized Phantom of the Opera hoodie, whilst stuffing the evidence of my tie up game under the nearest cushion.

Diane's voice echoed through the house as she put the key in the door,
"Hi Micha. I hope you don't mind us dropping by unannounced,.." She shouted, as Jessie bundled up the stairs to his room in search of his soccer boots.

"Not at," I lied as I hastily repurposed my gag as a colourful hairband.

As Diane stepped into the front room. I hastily straightened up, trying to appear nonchalant despite the fact that I was a bag of nerves.
I'm not ashamed to admit that my mother in law has always inspired something of an irrational fear in me, almost as though, as a former headteacher, she might still have the authority to give me a weeks detention for a minor uniform infraction. Indeed, with her starched, buttoned up attire and her black and silver hair coiffed within an inch of its life, she resembled a tyrannical factory owner from a Dicken's novel. It was hard to imagine she even owned a set of sweat pants.

After the intense ordeal of trying to free myself from the unexpected bondage, Diane's unexpected arrival sent my already frayed nerves into overdrive. As she casually strolled into the room, her presence seemed to fill the space with an air of authority, making me feel like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

"I hope we didn't interrupt your workout?" She asked.

"I'm sorry?" I replied, sounding utterly confused. After all, I was allergic to all forms of exercise and the only machine I used at the gym was the one that dispensed snacks.

"Oh, I guess I saw the outfit and assumed that you'd been exercising?" She said, channelling her inner Columbo.
"So, what have you been doing?"

When Diane Haynes asks you a question, she does it in such a benign fashion that you might be fooled into thinking that you were having a perfectly innocent conversation.
But this would be a mistake.
It was abundantly clear that I needed a wholly convincing and entirely innocent cover-story that would explained why I was looking flushed whilst dressed in skin tight purple lycra, and I needed it fast
Then it came to me.

"Yoga! Yes - That's right, yoga... I was doing yoga" I added, before wondering if I wasn't saying the word "yoga" rather too many times,..

Still, it was not, as far as white lies go, I thought to myself a little smugly. Maybe those improv classes I took at college were finally paying off,..?
Diane's expression however remained entirely unreadable, her gaze unwavering.

"Yoga? That's interesting" She said, casting her eyes over the room "I can't see a mat anywhere,..?"

Just when I was preying for divine intervention, or an air plane toilet to land on our house, things got even more complicated, because it was at this point in the story that John returned from work.
Enter husband, stage left:

"Hey Micha, so sorry I'm late," He called out "The traffic was an absolute nightmare. Hope you weren't too uncomfortable tied to that chair with a gag in your m-"
John's voice tapered off as he finally processed the additional company in the room. His eyes widened in shock, and I found myself wishing that the ground would open up and swallow us whole.

Diane's inquisitive gaze pierced through the awkward silence.

"Late for what, John? And why might you be expecting to find Michella tied up?"

My mind raced for a plausible, non sexual, explanation and was found wanting.

John, ever the quick thinker, attempted to salvage the situation. "I- er, that is, WE were just rehearsing for a play!"

"A play?" Diane asked, her eyes, sharp and penetrating.

"That's right," I said, tagging myself in. "A play. Yes. That's the stuff!"

Almost immediately I sensed that this was a mistake. In addition to being the headmistress, Diane also taught year 11 drama and was a keen supporter of the lively arts.

"What play would that be?" Diane asked, knowingly.

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my composure. Beads of perspiration appeared on my forehead and in the small of my back. Then, inspiration struck.

"Well, I say a play,.. it's actually more like a musical" I stammered

"Oh?" Diane arched an eyebrow, her amusement evident

"That's right," I added, suddenly, and inexplicably, on a roll. "I'm auditioning for the role of the damsel in distress in the musical Urinetown"

Diane appeared to ponder this new information.

"But Micha dear," She said, not unkindly "You can't sing"

"That's why she's gagged," John quipped.

Alas, we never got to hear Diane's reaction to this, because it was at this point that Jessie clattered down the stairs, now dressed in his full soccer kit.

"Jessie, what did I tell you about wearing your boots in the house?" I hollered, relieved to be back on firmer ground at last.

"Sorry Mom!" Said Jessie, shouting his half-hearted apology as he bolted for the door, "Come on Gran - kick offs in 15 minutes"

"And if we're late, who's fault will that be?" Diane sighed as she obligingly trudged after her Grandson in the direction of the car.

As we stood in the doorway waving off Diane and Jessie John turned to me and smiled.
"Well, that was an interesting turn of events, wasn't it?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "'Interesting' is one way to put it. I thought for sure your Mother was going to crack the case. Another 60 seconds under her stony glare and I'd have confessed to the Lindbergh kidnapping"

"Imagine what it was like for us growing up?" John opined "Every Meal time we had to line up to be questioned by the Torquemada.

"Hmm, that doesn't sound so bad,.." I teased as we went back inside the house

"Micha! Please tell me you're not fantasising about being chained up and interrogated by my actual Mother!?!" Cried John, sounding equal parts amused and horrified.

"I'm not, not, thinking about that" I replied happily.

[drgoremd]

Not going to lie, I love the idea of a housewife with DiD fantasies dreaming up various scenarios where she is tied up by a villain who bears a suspicious resemblance to her own real life mother-in-law. Especially if those fantasies were trigger by the MiL making some snarky or condescending remark about her not being good enough for her son.

[rtbw]

Very nice and well written story. I would love to be Robin in a trap waiting for Batgirl to save me.

[rtbw]

I forgot to add in my reply...the bit about Micha feeling self-conscious but then emboldened in the Batgurl outfit is such a good touch to the story. The effect of a superhero(ine) outfit on the hero(ine) is often overlooked but it's maybe the most important part of the psyche. Again, well written.