Barbara Gordon picked up the mask and thought about...the Joker. She remembered how he'd broken her. Humiliated her. Left her a cripple. She closed her eyes and remembered all the times she'd wept as the memories flowed over her. Or...had she cried? She'd been shot, but...Batman had recovered from a broken back. It was a matter of strength, will and spirit. Batman had been strong, and she'd...she...
She slipped the mask over her head. She felt her rage begin, and remembered that she'd been so disgusted with what a foolish, silly child she'd been. Batgirl was weak...weak...
In the hospital she'd been furious. Barbara had been broken. Barbara would never walk again.
So...she couldn't be 'Barbara' anymore. Barbara was weak...and she was strong.
The mask in place. the former Barbara Gordon stood ramrod straight. She hadn't become a weak, fragile little computer nerd in a wheelchair. No...she'd fought hard against her injury, and the pain only made her stronger. Computers were for weaklings. It wasn't that she rejected knowledge...but it had a time and a place. She was still smart...but she was also going to make herself strong. She was strong. She had to be strong. Strong as Batman. Stronger than Batman!
Weights and steroids and HGH in ever growing doses. Bigger and bigger she'd grown, as her spine healed and her body grew bigger and more mannish. She was often mistaken for a man these days, with her utterly massive muscles and her growing height. She buzzed her hair down to a manageable stubble as she'd begin taking Venom. All day long she'd labor in the hot sun, as her hulking body grew darker and more bulked. Her head seemed an after thought now, as her neck grew thick, corded and bullish. Her torso was so stuffed with muscles that her breasts melded with her mighty pecs. Bigger and bigger she'd grown, until few would have recognized the massive, brutish creature as silly, foolish Barbara. She abandoned that identity. Barbara had died.
Now...she was Bane.
She saw herself in the mirror and under her mask, she smiled with approval. She'd spent a year outside of the US in the tiny country of Santa Prisca. Forging fake documents to create a new identity for herself, she confronted her father with her new strength. Just glad to have her back, he agreed to tell the world that Barbara Gordon had died...but that his long lost 'other' daughter 'Bane Gordon' had returned to him.
Bane slowly built a new life for herself, acting as the Gotham PD's new 'official' hero. These days, the criminal underworld was more frightened of Bane that Batman...and that made made her so hot.
Pain...was her aphrodisiac. She knew she was a good woman. She loved her father and wanted her city to be safe, but...the look of terror in a wounded mans eyes. The snap of strong bone. The sound of brave men begging for mercy. Bane LIVED for these delights. The suffering of evil men was bliss to her now.
Dressed in her mask (which she rarely took off anymore) and nothing else, the hulking she-brute looked at her towering bulk...her masterful thickness...her massive hands and muscles. She drew out her two favorite dildos. Impossible for most woman to take, and moaned in delighted agony as she shoved one into her rockhard ass, before she crammed the other into her pouty, fleshy vagina. She growled in rough Spanish as she pleasured herself with the two massive sex toys, so glad that she wasn't a silly 'girl' anymore.