Catwoman Finds a Weekness, Part 2 | |
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This fictional account -- it's about comic-book superheroes; what else could it be? -- contains adult language and sexual themes. The persons and events described in this work are purely fictional. Any similarity to actual persons or events is strictly coincidental. Copyright 2005 by SMOKEHUT. All rights reserved. Permission is hereby granted to reproduce this story in any form and for any purpose as long as this notice is reproduced and no financial remuneration is received, by the person reproducing or using it. Author's Note: Though this story is set in the present day, it is loosely based on the characters of the long-running Batman comics, although the actual character Batman does not appear here. The story is based instead on Batman's protege, Robin, and the pair's longtime nemesis, Catwoman. A character known as Catwoman appeared for the first time in 1940. The original character eventually married Bruce Wayne, Batman's alter ego, and came to a bad end. Catwoman has been revived in a number of incarnations, including television and in movies, in the years since. Catwoman differs from other familiar Batman nemeses in that she is more anti-hero than villain. Catwoman has a redeeming side and lacks the bloodthirstiness and penchant for violence displayed by most comic-book villains. Perhaps Catwoman's inherent naughtiness makes this fanciful depiction a bit more plausible. CATWOMAN FINDS A WEAKNESS Part 2 of 2 After a shave and a shower, Dick Grayson made his way down to the kitchen of stately Wayne Manor, where Arthur, Bruce Wayne's butler, had a breakfast of pancakes and sausage ready for him. "Master Bruce wanted to tell me that you will be on alert in his stead," said Alfred. "Oh? "Master Bruce has been called out of town to attend to some business. I think he intimated that he wanted you to attend to the extracurricular activities of the household." By that, Alfred clearly meant that crimefighting was to be Robin's domain for a day or so. It was a rare opportunity for the Boy Wonder but one for which he was well prepared. He had assisted Batman in countless deeds of crimefighting derring-do, and the two had worked together to escape numerous traps at the hands of evildoers. Grayson was excited by the prospect of going it alone. But Grayson merely nodded, knowing well the benefit of humility. "I'll alert you if a need should arise, Master Dick," said Alfred before leaving the kitchen to attend to other duties. In fact, the prospect of taking on some criminal mastermind alone exhilarated Wayne's youthful ward. He had learned a lot from his mentor. He hoped to have something to show for Bruce Wayne's absence. He wanted Batman to be proud of him. Selena Kyle was, as always, torn between good and evil, between her lust for the good life and her concern for the downtrodden. When she stealthily crept the streets of Gotham, she was perpetually torn between the light and the dark. There was a bit of Robin Hood buried beneath the intimidating facade of Catwoman, but also a bit of the vamp and the seductress. When she experienced the exhilaration of a good jewel heist, it wasn't much of a stretch for her to enjoy a good fuck. She was breathtakingly beautiful, but never more so than when she wore the leather Catwoman outfit and wielded her whip. It just so happened that Bruce Wayne was out of town. Selena knew of Batman's secret identity. The fact that she didn't use that tidbit to her advantage was evidence that she had her good side. She had, on occasion, assisted Batman, for she had no taste for criminals bent on senseless violence and bloodthirsty savagery. Selena had nothing against Batman -- or Robin either, for that matter -- except the possibility that he might send her to jail. The Caped Crusader knew of her redeeming side, and he had expressed his gratitude at the fact that she had saved his life a few times by charitably keeping her on the streets. In many ways, they were both vigilantes. Batman had more in common with her than he cared to admit. Tonight, though, she felt the delectable evil boiling up inside her. Tonight she simply couldn't resist the temptation of pulling a heist. In fact, she kind of yearned for a bit of violence. It wouldn't be bad to sink her nails into someone or something truly evil. On nights like these, the leather gave her a certain bloodlust, and before she even donned the uniform, she enjoyed a cigarette and touched herself in all the familiar, alluring places. Just enough to get the juices flowing, so to speak. Dick Grayson kept telling himself that something would happen. He almost felt as if it was his destiny to perform some great deed in the absence of Bruce Wayne, who was off somewhere attending to his business interests. All day long, Grayson went about his own little menial duties, secretly hoping for word from Alfred that something was amiss in Gotham. Nothing. Batman and Robin had never just swooped in to collar criminals in routine activity. They didn't have Superman's super powers. The Dynamic Duo only made appearances when called upon by the authorities in the pursuit of particularly diabolical figures. Alfred could sense young Grayson's need to make his mark. There were, however, no urgent rings of the Batphone, no spotlights of Batman's image being frantically launched in the skies over Gotham. Finally, deep in the night, a restless Grayson announced he was going out. "I'm going out on the Batcycle alone," he told Alfred. "I think I'll just cruise the streets of Gotham to make sure nothing sinister is afoot." "Very good, master Dick," said the butler. "I'll prepare your uniform." The events of the evening had a certain eerieness. At the very time that Robin was riding the streets of Gotham, longing for destiny wuold reach out to grab him, there was Catwoman nearby, scanning the streets for something to satiate her own restless desire. All of a sudden, there he was! Robin, unaccompanied by Batman. The prospect was delicious. He would be the Catwoman's prey. Robin knew not why he parked his cycle. He told himself that, by taking an elevator to the roof of Gotham Towers, he could view the city in all its glittering majesty and perhaps notice something amiss. The building was deserted. Where were the security guards? Making their rounds? Flooded with melancholy, Robin stood alone in the elevator as it streaked to the observation deck. The doors opened and, as he walked out, with all the lights of Gotham around him, he thought he detected a hint of cigarette smoke. Could it be, just before the stroke of midnight, that he was not alone? For minutes that seemed to drag on forever, Robin took out his binoculars and scanned the streets below. In the distance, he could barely make out the whine of police sirens, but there wasn't anything that seemed to be of consequence, no convergence of police cruisers, just the routine process of officers answering routine calls that required no expert intervention. Gradually the heightened awareness subsided. Robin sighed. "Rrroowwwlll." Robin tensed, his eyes darting around. It wasn't the sound of a playful little kitty. It was something larger and more malevolent. Catwoman! Crrraaaccckkk! It was the sound of a whip, simultaneously accompanied by a split second of numbness and then the sting of his skin breaking. Robin reflexively grabbed his side, and even in the darkness, he could see the blood on his hands. In this split second of revelation, she was on him. He fell to the concrete on his back, and there was Catwoman, straddling him and pinning his hands with hers. "Boy Wonder," she snarled, "you don't work as well alone as you and Batman do together." He was speechless, overcome with humiliation. There had been no confrontation, no battle of wits. It was game, set, match, and now he had been completely overwhelmed, 800 feet above the heart of the city. "I could kill you now," she said, eyes flashing with desire, "but instead, I prefer to play." He stared into her eyes, dumbly, still too shocked to speak. Catwoman waited for him to relax. Then, shockingly, she relaxed, too. "Shit," she said. "You're no threat." Catwoman rose and stood over him. She reached into a pouch, a pocket. Robin tensed. Catwoman pulled out a silver cigarette case and a lighter. She retrieved a long, slender cigarette and lit it. Here, Robin thought, was his chance to escape, but instead, he continued to stare as Catwoman inhaled deeply from her cigarette. The smoke lingered as she parted her lips, then drew it into her lungs. The dream. Now Robin no longer felt imperiled. Instead, he felt ... aroused. Catwoman saw his manhood rise and, just as in the dream, she performed that same effortless shrug, shaking the leather straps from her shoulders and exposing her breasts. "Ah," she said, "you like." She knelt down again, but this time she drew heavily from the cigarette and kissed him ... hard. Her tongue thrust into the Boy Wonder's mouth, and she exhaled, sending the smoke into his lungs as he began to breathe heavily. At the same time, with her hands she yanked at his fly, reached in and pulled down his jock strap. His swollen member popped out. She pumped it with her hands. "Oh, goddamn," blurted Robin. "Do you want me, Boy Wonder?" "Fuck, yeah." "Well, hang on," she said. "Prepare to be ridden." Catwoman got up again, the cigarette now dangling from her lips as she removed the black leather outfit. Now she stood naked in the Gotham moonlight as midnight chimed in the night air. She took one more deep draw from the cigarette and flicked it from the roof of the skyscraper. Robin, still lying on his back, scrambled to get his shorts off. But his eyes never left Catwoman as she exhaled a thin stream of smoke. She sprang back on him, sending Robin's upright penis deep into the space between her legs. She rode him like a bucking horse and shrieked shamelessly as he exploded inside her. But then she turned tender as she rolled off Robin and took him in her arms. "There's no need to be ashamed, Robin," Catwoman said quietly. "You proved you were a man. "And besides, kiddo, I ain't all bad. It's not like I killed you or anything." "No," Robin replied, chuckling. "All you did was wear me out. "Oh, fuck, that was so great." "Would you care to smoke, honey?" "Oh, God, yes," Robin said. "I want one so fucking bad." In slow motion, they both rose. Both put their outfits back on. "Come on over here, baby," Catwoman said. "Sit next to me. Cuddle me. Let's smoke." It was quite romantic, sitting there on a bench overlooking the glimmering city. For a long while, they just held hands. "Well," Catwoman said. "I guess I'll have to go release the guards." "Why don't you let me rescue them?" Robin asked. "That way I can tell them you've been brought to justice. No need for anything to be in the papers." "Sure," said Catwoman. "That sounds like a plan. Want one more cigarette." "Yeah," said Robin. "That'd be great." The silence then became a bit uneasy. Catwoman seemed to be waiting for Robin to say what he was thinking. "Uh, Catwoman, honey ..." "Yes?" "This is gonna be, like, our little secret, right?" "Sure, I don't think there's any reason for, oh, maybe, Batman to know about it." "Thanks," Robin said. "But I don't think," she said, "that he'd really disapprove, if you know what I mean." "Uh, what? You don't mean that you, like ..." "Did him?" "No," Robin said. "No way." "Look, Boy Wonder, why do you think I've never been sent to prison. Batman and I have had our own little arrangement for years." "No shit?" "No shit. I've fucked him. I've sucked him. I've jacked him off. Crimefighting isn't the only thing you two have in common." "Really." "No, Boy Wonder," Catwoman said, her eyes gleaming again. "Batman gets off on the smoke, too." |
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