(I) CAT IN THE BAG
I admit in hindsight it was probably a bad idea to pursue a career of crime in Gotham City. But the city's famous love for vice made it a natural choice when I left the middle of the country and relative obscurity behind. I was setting out into the world, a young man trying to choose his destiny, and Gotham afforded that opportunity. I knew even then - I suppose I've always known - that I harbored a deep urge to dominate. I wanted power. Or, I should say, more power. My life has never been an average one. I lost my parents at a young age, young enough that they apparently failed to instill their moral compass in me. When they were gone, my life took a new path, one I was able to set for myself, thanks to a miracle of my genetics. I never wanted to label myself as a hero or a villain, but clearly I had been gifted at birth with… incredible abilities, which put me in a class that made choosing my life path a simple matter.
Simple… it had been simple that night she first came to my room. The woman who inspired it all. My search for power could have led me a hundred ways, but her intervention was… fortuitous. And what led her to me? Why, of course the fact that I chose to pursue a career of crime in Gotham City. I thought my age would keep me under the radar as I amassed wealth and influence, but she saw me. And that's how I wound up with this gorgeous bitch, squeezed in skintight black leather, crouching above me in bed.
"Wake up, punk," she hissed, her lips an inch from my face. I was startled into consciousness and found myself pinned by one of this dark city's most infamous vigilantes - known to me then only as Catwoman.
We were alone in the massive bedroom of my penthouse atop one of Gotham's premier tenement houses. The master thief apparently had no problem deactivating or evading my security system and now she had me defenseless, helpless, at her mercy. Or so she thought.
As I realized what was happening, I steeled myself and kept silent, certain that I could not escape by force. I could feel her tight grip on my arms and the taut musculature of her toned body. In the moonlight that filtered in through the windows, I could see her outline - fuck, she was beautiful, face hovering over mine, perfect features contorted with anger. Large, heavy-lidded, dark eyes, a cute button-nose. Thick, red painted lips, a lock of dark hair sprouting from under her headpiece, covering her forehead. She was the peak of athleticism, possessed of a slim frame with striking curves that gave her a sexual edge. I could see the rising curve of her buttocks behind her, that slick catsuit open at the front, zipper drawn halfway down her chest, impressive cleavage on display. Perhaps intended as a distraction, to weaken my resolve even further as she intimidated me physically.
All at once, my initial shock and fear of this woman began to melt into desire. She displayed a raw power I found fascinating - a challenge. I knew that as my lust for Catwoman grew, my body would begin to emit powerful pheromones, part of my sexually based power set. They were chemically designed to attack the female desire and at such close range, she would be especially susceptible.
"There's a new prostitution syndicate in town, delivering high-class, well-trained escorts to the elite of Gotham," she growled. "Wealthy socialites, eligible heiresses, pageant winners… dropping off the grid. I've been tracking the ring for months, and do you know what makes it unique? No conspicuous pimp or pusher at the top. Only a kid. A child."
Even though I ran one of the most successful escort services in town, I had hoped my extreme privacy and young age would keep me hidden. I handled none of the business, none of the money. She probably assumed I was some sort of fall guy or someone important's kid. This fatal misjudgment on her part would cost the costumed cat burglar dearly. She still thought she was in total control, but little did she know it was nothing more than an illusion, a facade I could crack as I had done a hundred times before. Since I realized the true potential of my powers, I had spent much time studying the ranks of super humans that populated this planet. We seemed to be living in a new age of super-powered idols. But not all of them were gifted with extraordinary, impossible talents. As far as I could tell from all the news reports and Internet rumors, Catwoman was just a woman under that tight black suit. And that meant she was vulnerable.
"I'm fifteen, bitch," I sneered, probably sounding exactly like the punk she thought I was. I began to writhe in her clutches, not really trying to escape. I was more interested in rubbing my body on hers through the silk sheets. My desire for this beautiful creature was rushing through me now, blood pumping into my cock, forming a steadily rising erection below the covers. She would be able to feel it soon, but for now I relied on using the friction between us to stimulate her s
(I) CAT IN THE BAGI admit in hindsight it was probably a bad idea to pursue a career of crime in Gotham City. But the city's famous love for vice made it a natural choice when I left the middle of the country and relative obscurity behind. I was setting out into the world, a young man trying to choose his destiny, and Gotham afforded that opportunity. I knew even then - I suppose I've always known - that I harbored a deep urge to dominate. I wanted power. Or, I should say, more power. My life has never been an average one. I lost my parents at a young age, young enough that they apparently failed to instill their moral compass in me. When they were gone, my life took a new path, one I was able to set for myself, thanks to a miracle of my genetics. I never wanted to label myself as a hero or a villain, but clearly I had been gifted at birth with… incredible abilities, which put me in a class that made choosing my life path a simple matter.Simple… it had been simple that night she first came to my room. The woman who inspired it all. My search for power could have led me a hundred ways, but her intervention was… fortuitous. And what led her to me? Why, of course the fact that I chose to pursue a career of crime in Gotham City. I thought my age would keep me under the radar as I amassed wealth and influence, but she saw me. And that's how I wound up with this gorgeous bitch, squeezed in skintight black leather, crouching above me in bed. "Wake up, punk," she hissed, her lips an inch from my face. I was startled into consciousness and found myself pinned by one of this dark city's most infamous vigilantes - known to me then only as Catwoman. We were alone in the massive bedroom of my penthouse atop one of Gotham's premier tenement houses. The master thief apparently had no problem deactivating or evading my security system and now she had me defenseless, helpless, at her mercy. Or so she thought. As I realized what was happening, I steeled myself and kept silent, certain that I could not escape by force. I could feel her tight grip on my arms and the taut musculature of her toned body. In the moonlight that filtered in through the windows, I could see her outline - fuck, she was beautiful, face hovering over mine, perfect features contorted with anger. Large, heavy-lidded, dark eyes, a cute button-nose. Thick, red painted lips, a lock of dark hair sprouting from under her headpiece, covering her forehead. She was the peak of athleticism, possessed of a slim frame with striking curves that gave her a sexual edge. I could see the rising curve of her buttocks behind her, that slick catsuit open at the front, zipper drawn halfway down her chest, impressive cleavage on display. Perhaps intended as a distraction, to weaken my resolve even further as she intimidated me physically.All at once, my initial shock and fear of this woman began to melt into desire. She displayed a raw power I found fascinating - a challenge. I knew that as my lust for Catwoman grew, my body would begin to emit powerful pheromones, part of my sexually based power set. They were chemically designed to attack the female desire and at such close range, she would be especially susceptible.
"There's a new prostitution syndicate in town, delivering high-class, well-trained escorts to the elite of Gotham," she growled. "Wealthy socialites, eligible heiresses, pageant winners… dropping off the grid. I've been tracking the ring for months, and do you know what makes it unique? No conspicuous pimp or pusher at the top. Only a kid. A child."
Even though I ran one of the most successful escort services in town, I had hoped my extreme privacy and young age would keep me hidden. I handled none of the business, none of the money. She probably assumed I was some sort of fall guy or someone important's kid. This fatal misjudgment on her part would cost the costumed cat burglar dearly. She still thought she was in total control, but little did she know it was nothing more than an illusion, a facade I could crack as I had done a hundred times before. Since I realized the true potential of my powers, I had spent much time studying the ranks of super humans that populated this planet. We seemed to be living in a new age of super-powered idols. But not all of them were gifted with extraordinary, impossible talents. As far as I could tell from all the news reports and Internet rumors, Catwoman was just a woman under that tight black suit. And that meant she was vulnerable.
"I'm fifteen, bitch," I sneered, probably sounding exactly like the punk she thought I was. I began to writhe in her clutches, not really trying to escape. I was more interested in rubbing my body on hers through the silk sheets. My desire for this beautiful creature was rushing through me now, blood pumping into my cock, forming a steadily rising erection below the covers. She would be able to feel it soon, but for now I relied on using the friction between us to stimulate her s
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