Eyes Of The Tigress
by Ann Douglas
The following is a work of erotic fiction and includes scenes
of sexual activity. It includes characters that are copyrighted
by DC Comics. This story is intended for the non-commercial
enjoyment of fans and should be considered a parody . No
copyright infringement is intended and no profit will be made
from the distribution of this story.
Night over Gotham City was still more than two hours away.
Nevertheless, the dark figure in gray and black was already out
searching the city. A crime most monstrous was in danger of
becoming even more so.
“Twenty possibilities down, only a hundred more to go,” the
young woman beneath the cape and cowl thought as she looked over
the waterfront. “Something like this would have to happen when
Batman and Robin are out of town. I could really use that keen
analytical mind of his.”
Shielding her eyes against the light of the dying sun, the
woman popularly known as Batgirl climbed the water tower to gain
an even higher vantage point. As she climbed the ladder, she
mentally reviewed the material the Police had given her a few
hours before when she had answered the call they had put out for
Batman and Robin.
Sometime around noon, five men, heavily armed and totally
ruthless, had invaded the Pee Wee Daycare Center in Midtown.
Pee Wee was the most exclusive and fashionable daycare facility in
the city, used by both the very rich and famous. In their wake,
they had left two security guards dead, another badly wounded and
kidnapped Kathy Wilson, the two-year old daughter of Mark
Wilson, President of Wilson Electronics.
Or so they had thought. Like the plot of a bad movie, they
had grabbed the wrong toddler. The little girl they had made off
with was the daughter of a mid-level secretary at Wayne Corp,
who attended the prestigious center on a company grant. Her
name was Kathy Willis and bore a striking resemblance to her more
celebrated playmate, right down to the embroidered name on their
matching jumpers.
The resident Police Psychologist that had been on location
said that there was a high probability that the kidnappers would
kill the little girl once they discovered their error. So far, the
Police had managed to keep the real identity of the little girl out
of the news reports, but that could change at any time.
One of the now dead security guards had managed to take
down one of the abductors before succumbing to his wounds. No
one had yet been able to put a name to the face of the body now in
the morgue, but Batgirl was certain that the answer to their
search could be found somewhere in his personal effects.
One of the things in his pockets had been a brand new
folding map of the city. That and a few other items gave weight to
the idea that he wasn’t a Gotham native. Opening the map to its
full length and width, Batgirl had noticed a slight crease in the
paper. An indication, at least to her, that the map had previously
been folded in such a way as to display just the south side of the
waterfront. Specifically the quarter mile area known as Drake’s
Wharf. Since the map was new and she couldn’t find any other
markings, the red headed crimefighter thought it was a clue worth
pursuing.
The Captain in charge of the investigation, however, hadn’t
put much credence in the theory and didn’t even keep the map.
Batgirl couldn’t help but think that if it had been Batman who had
made the observation, it would’ve been taken more seriously.
In her real identity as Barbara Gordon, Batgirl had met
Captain Jason Clarke at a few police functions she had attended
with her Police Commissioner father. Her first impression of him
had been that he was a horse’s ass, owing his position more to
political influence than to any real investigative ability. Now, after
actually dealing with him in an official capacity, she revised that
opinion. It was, she now decided, unfair to the horse.
Still, with nothing else to go on, the Darknight Damsel head
for Drake’s Wharf, hoping against all the odds that she was making
the right guess. So far she had covered a quarter of her search
area without success. The closest thing to criminal activity she’d
come across was a pair of high school boys getting blow jobs from
two dockside hookers. As she passed from one rooftop to another,
she paused for a second and had looked on the four of them.
Racing onward, she wondered if the young men realized that
down here by the docks, the two women on their knees sucking
them off might very well have cocks of their own. Hopefully they’d
remain ignorant in the illusion.
It stood to reason, she decided as that image faded from
her attention, that if the kidnappers hideout really was in this
section of town, then it would most likely be in the most deserted
part of it. Most of the businesses in the neighborhood had folded
over the years as Gotham lost much of its maritime trade to more
tax friendly ports.
The block Batgirl now scanned from her water tower perch
contained an old clothing factory, a Greek diner and what was once
a social club for longshoremen. Every tick of the clock brought her
closer to disastrous failure, not to mention the still real possibility
that she might be on a wild goose chase after all. Still what else
could she do but press on?
Carefully, she focused her small high-powered binoculars,
first on the factory and then the diner. Both looked like they
hadn’t been occupied in years. The boarded up club didn’t look any
better.
Her gaze passed over the one remaining window and under
the years of grime that covered it, Batgirl could just make out the
long forgotten name of the club - Drake’s Anchor.
Her heart raced wildly as she once again pictured the small
collection of paraphernalia that they had removed from the
pockets of the unlucky kidnapper. In her mind’s eye she focused on
a half used pack of matches. The cover of which had born the
inscription, Drake’s Anchor.
Fast as she could, Batgirl dropped down the side of the
building and made her way across the street, keeping to the
shadows as best she could. The small alley beside the abandoned
social club was filled with assorted piles of rubbish but was still
manageable. Skillfully the black caped crimefighter made her way
to one of the back windows. Scraping away a small bit of the filth
covering the plate, she was able to take a quick look inside.
As fast as her heart was beating, it came to an abrupt stop
as she spotted two men in the supposedly deserted building. One
was dressed in a green shirt and blue jeans, the other a white shirt
and black slacks. Both matched descriptions of the men who had
been at the Daycare Center.
Moving further down the alleyway, Batgirl looked through a
second window and saw the object of her search. The little girl
was stretched out on an old cot, sound asleep and seemingly
oblivious of what was going on around her. At the foot of the
folding bed sat a third man. Tall, heavyset and bearded, he was
leaning back on a chair with his eyes closed.
“Batgirl to Gotham City Police,” she whispered into a small
powerful radio she had removed from her utility belt as she
retraced her steps back up the alley. “Batgirl to Gotham City
Police.”
On her third try, one of the Police Dispatchers came on the
line and Batgirl reported what she’d found. She winced at the very
condescending attitude of the dispatcher’s voice as he warned her
just to continue to monitor the situation and let the professionals
handle any rescue.
“Well then the professionals had better hurry up and get
here,” she thought as she broke down the connection and took
another look into the main room.
A third figure had now come into view, this one wearing a
brown leather jacket. That accounted for all the hunted men. The
original two were now leaning on the old bar, a couple of open
bottles of beer and the cardboard containers holding the rest of
the six-pack resting between them. The new arrival was reading a
newspaper and listening to a small radio.
Batgirl examined the back door to the building. The lock
was old and rusty and it took only a few seconds for her to cut
through it with a tiny battery powered saw.
Dropping the blade back into the appropriate compartment
on her belt, the dark clad woman’s attention was suddenly diverted
as she thought she saw a flash of movement on the low roof above
her.
Before crossing the street, she had gotten a good look at
the layout of the roof above her. There were two octagon shaped
skylights to let in natural light, one large and one small. The only
access to the roof seemed to be a ladder attached to the back of
the building a few feet from where she was standing. At least
where it would have been had someone not stolen it for its metal
value a long time ago.
Batgirl stood motionless and silently scanned the empty air
above her. She saw no further evidence of movement or heard any
sound of it either.
“Next I’ll be jumping at shadows,” the Maid of the Night
silently said to herself as she dismissed it as the result of a
sudden sense of foreboding. A feeling she tried to quickly shake
off.
From another part of her seemingly endless collections of
gadgets, Batgirl produced a small cylinder and sprayed a highly
effective lubricant on the rusty hinges of the long sealed door.
Then, slowly and silently, she opened it and slipped inside.
Carefully measured movements carried her to an almost
uncomfortable closeness to her quarry. Only a dozen feet and a
cheap plywood partition separated them all. If all went well, the
GCPD would show up any minute and while they provided a
distraction, she would be able to get the little girl to safety.
Batgirl’s prior sense of apprehension suddenly proved
prophetic as the radio station the men had been listening to began
to broadcast a news report. A report that blew the lid off the
secret the Police Department had been trying to keep all
afternoon.
“Motherfucker!” the man in green cried out as he tossed the
bottle he’d been drinking from to the floor in anger, shattering it.
“Now what the hell do we do?”
“I’ll tell you what we do,” his closest companion bellowed as
he pulled a .38 special from a belt holster. “We get rid of that
little brat and get our asses out of here!”
The third member of the group enthusiastically agreed,
producing an automatic pistol from beneath his leather jacket. He
had never been comfortable with the operation to begin with, but
had tossed aside any misgivings in anticipation of the immense
payoff to be reaped. Now with that gone, his first concern quickly
shifted to his personal survival.
As two of the three men turned in the direction of the
storeroom where she had observed the sleeping toddler, Batgirl
rolled three marble sized spheres out onto the floor. The small
orbs exploded into expanding spheres of blinding white light. The
intensity of which was so powerful that they burned themselves
out almost between heartbeats.
Yet even that small span of time was enough as Batgirl
emerged from behind the false wall, sending a batarang sailing
across the room to find its mark on the furthest of her targets.
The impact of the heavy weapon was enough to send the hoodlum
to dreamland.
Not even waiting for it to land, Batgirl whirled around and
sent a booted foot into the midsection of the large man to her
left, knocking both the wind out of his chest and the gun out of his
hand.
Using his bulk to stop her forward momentum, Batgirl
reversed her turn in order to bring her attack to the last of her
immediate adversaries. It was a move she’d used successfully
countless times in the past. But as with any tried and true
practice, the unexpected was always a possibility.
As she pivoted on one leg, the movement of her body caused
her to shift a few inches to the left. To the very spot where an
unfair fate had deposited the residue from the beer bottle that
had earlier been thrown to the floor.
Suddenly without the support the successful completion of
the maneuver required, Batgirl lost her balance and collided with
the gunman. Both of them crashed to the dirty floor, their arms
and legs interlocked.
Finely tuned reflexes responded almost automatically as
Batgirl disengaged herself and started to scramble back to her
feet. Her luck went from bad to catastrophic as she looked up and
found herself looking down the barrel of a pump action shotgun.
The last of the gang, the one who had been dozing in the back
room, heard the noise of the brief fight and had rushed out to
investigate.
“Oh God!” Batgirl thought as she froze in place.
In the space of a single breath, she analyzed the situation
and the possibilities of escape. The distance between her and the
final gunman was too far for her to cover before he could pull the
trigger. The same held true for the distance between her and any
possible cover. There wasn’t even any chance of pulling a miracle
out of her utility belt.
“I’m dead,” she told herself, the very admission of the fact
causing her heart to freeze.”
“Give my regards to hell, Bat-bitch!” the gunman laughed as
he began to slowly apply pressure to the trigger.
He had always been a small time crook, just hired muscle in
other people’s gangs. Now that was all going to change. Let them
talk about the Joker, Killer Croc and the Penguin. After tonight,
all of them are going to run a distant second to Rory Cross - the
guy who fragged Batgirl.
“Do her, Rory,” the man in the leather jacket, who had
finally lifted himself off the floor, called out. “Blow the fucking
cunt’s head off!”
Out of the corner of her eye, Batgirl could also see one of
her first two victims recovering his gun from the floor as well.
Her odds had just gone from impossible to hopeless.
Still her muscles tensed tight in anticipation. She would go
down fighting, if only to gain more time for the GCPD to show up
and save Kathy.
An explosion shook the air and for a half second, Batgirl
thought it was the shotgun going off. She moved with the sound,
surprised to realize that she wasn’t dead. A shower of glass
fragments made her realize that the explosion had come from
above, shattering the larger skylight. Through the now open roof
dropped a dark, lithe figure.
“Batman, thank God!” the redheaded adventurer thought as
she rolled out of the way of the deadly fusillade, a downpour that
also caused all of the gunmen to shield their faces as well.
To Batgirl’s amazement, the figure that landed with a soft
thud in the center of the room was dressed not in black and gray,
but a rich, deep purple.
“Catwoman!” she said loudly in amazement.
The master thief wasted no time with introductions,
grabbing the shotgun from the hands of the would be Bat-Killer,
slamming the stock back into his face. Twice her size, he returned
to anonymity as he slumped to the dust-covered floor.
Shaking off the shock of her near death and Catwoman’s
unexpected arrival, Batgirl returned to the action. Using a karate
move she’d first learned as a teen, she quickly incapacitated the
thug who had so urged her death.
Too late she saw the last gang member still on his feet point
his gun in the direction of Catwoman. The Feline Fury was making a
beeline dash for the room holding Kathy Willis, unaware that she
was still in peril.
Tossing herself at the gunman with all of her speed and
strength, Batgirl only managed to slightly deflect the gunshot.
She made sure, however, that there was no second round as a
crushing blow sent him to join his fellows.
“Catwoman?” she called out as she turned and saw her
rescuer sprawled out on the ground.
Racing to her side, she let out a great sigh of relief as she
found the purple clad woman still breathing. In fact, except for a
small tear in her cowl and a streak of blood across the side of her
face, the cat burglar seemed unhurt.
Next she completed Catwoman’s goal and checked on Kathy.
Thankfully, she had somehow slept on through all that had
happened and was unhurt.
The sounds of sirens finally filled the air, followed by the
squeal of brakes. The GCPD had finally arrived.
“You men fan out to the back,” the voice of Captain Clarke
filtered through the cracked front window. “The rest of you
follow me.”
Stepping back into the main room, Batgirl looked at the
bodies scattered across it, centering on that of the unconscious
Catwoman. Even though she knew there might be outstanding
warrants on the arch-criminal, she couldn’t just leave her to be
arrested. Not after she had saved her life. Whatever the reason
for her sudden appearance, there was no denying that she had done
just that. The law was the law, her father had always told her.
But sometimes justice required harder choices, the Batman had
said as well.
* * * * * * * * * *
“Oh my head,” Selina Kyle softly moaned as she opened her
eyes and attempted to jump up in her bed, causing a quick flash of
pain from her left temple.
The fact that she was in a bed, and not one in the prison
hospital, surprised her almost as much as the fact she was no
longer in costume. Instead she was wearing a simple blue
nightshirt with two white kittens playing with a ball of twine on
the front. Suspicious eyes took in her surroundings.
The bedroom looked as if it had been furnished out of a mail
order catalogue, simple yet impersonal. Moving slower this time,
she sat up on the edge of the bed. The pain in her head was less
intense, letting her rise to her full height.
She spotted her familiar dark purple jumpsuit laid across a
chair on the other side of the room. It took no time at all for her
to decide that whatever this place was, it was time for her to
leave.
Moving across the room, the dark haired woman paused for a
second at a large mirror on the wall. Her hand reached up to touch
the small bandage just above her left ear. Lifting it gently, she
noticed that the small wound beneath it had been expertly cleaned.
Small as it was, there probably wouldn’t even be a scar. Running
her hand through her closely cropped black hair, she smiled when
she found no other evidence of injury.
She pulled off the nightshirt and tossed it to the floor,
standing for a moment in only her panties. She exhibited a firm,
lean body that would’ve been the envy of any professional athlete.
Half a lifetime of working on her body had toned it to near
perfection. Her breasts were of an average size, but perfectly
shaped. A sports bra built into the catsuit normally held them in
check. The rest of her body was just as carefully sculpted,
bringing to mind the old phrase, lean, mean fighting machine.
After years of practice, it only took her a minute to don and
adjust the skin tight jumpsuit. It amazed her that even her
weapons were still there.
Catwoman, as she tried to always think of herself once in
costume, opened the window and saw that it was an easy jump to
the next roof. Easy at least when she was in top form, something a
sudden pulse of pain from her head reminded her wasn’t her
present condition. It was a brief, low-level pain, but still enough to
give her pause.
“If you really want to leave so much, the stairs are a lot
easier,” a familiar voice said from behind her.
Catwoman quickly whirled at the sound, her claws extended
as she assumed a defensive stance. The voice did indeed belong to
Batgirl as she had guessed, but the woman in purple didn’t expect
to find the crimefighter carrying a serving tray with various drinks
and food.
“You really should have a bite to eat before you go,” Batgirl
said as she put down the tray at the table. “I might not be the
world’s greatest cook but I can order take out with the best of
them.”
More than a little confused, Catwoman assumed a calmer
position, then walked over to the table where Batgirl was standing.
Her eyes never left the woman in black and gray as she picked up a
small finger sandwich and took a bite of it.
“Not bad,” Catwoman said as she finished her taste.
“I’ll pass along your compliment to the deli on the corner,”
Batgirl said as she picked up a can of soda and sat down in a large
comfortable chair. “Have a seat,” she added, motioning to the
adjacent chair. “The doctor said you should at least rest a little
before you take to roof hopping again.”
“Doctor?” Catwoman inquired.
“Well, I wanted to make sure the bullet that grazed you
really didn’t cause any damaged,” Batgirl explained. “She said the
worse that you’d have is a little headache.”
“I think I might question her definition of little,” Catwoman
said with a cautious smile as she took a fruit drink from the tray
and sat down opposite her unexpected hostess. “Not to sound too
ungrateful, but why?”
“Why all this you mean?” Batgirl asked, “Why this and not a
holding cell at police headquarters?”
“Something like that,” Catwoman said as she took another
bite of her sandwich.
“Well I guess the simple answer would be that it’s in very
poor taste to arrest someone who just saved your life,” Batgirl
said.
“To be honest, I was there for the girl,” Catwoman replied.
“Saving your life was just an accident of timing.”
“Well it was an accident that I’m very grateful for,” Batgirl
said, her voice quite sincere.
“You’re welcome,” Catwoman smiled.
“Curiosity makes me want to ask why you were there in the
first place?
“Well to also give a simple answer,” Catwoman replied. “The
little girl’s mother and I grew up together. She didn’t trust the
Police to care about just another poor kid. I haven’t seen her for
years, but she still knew how to get in touch with me.”
“I can appreciate friendship like that,” Batgirl said as she
finished her own sandwich. “It says a lot about a person.”
“I guess I should ask about this place,” Catwoman asked as
she indicated the small studio apartment they were in. “I’m
assuming that this isn’t where you really live.”
“No, I guess you would call it a safe house of sorts, just an
place to use when you need it.”
She wasn’t about to explain that the entire building was
owned by a subsidy of Wayne Enterprises and was one of a dozen
scattered around the city. Batman had given her the location of
them a few years ago to use as she saw fit.
“I guess it serves,” Catwoman commented as she took a
longer look at her surroundings. “Is this where you and the Boy
Wonder used to come and do the nasty?” she laughed.
The question caught Batgirl completely off guard. She’d
almost forgotten about their one brief prior encounter during a
robbery at the Gotham Museum. An encounter in which, among
other things, Catwoman had revealed knowledge of what Batgirl
had thought a well kept secret. Automatically her mind flashed
back to that night a few years back.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
It had been one of those nights where nothing was going
right. She had ended her relationship with Robin only days before
and had gone on patrol alone. Responding to a silent alarm at the
Gotham Museum, she’d interrupted a robbery in progress. The two
low caliber thugs who had tripped the alarm systems went down
without her breaking much of a sweat. She had just finished tying
the two of them up when the lights went out around her.
“Who’s there?” Batgirl called out as she spun around in the
dark, reaching down to her utility belt for a pair of infra-red
lenses.
Her only response was a soft feminine laugh. Followed a
moment later by the muffled sound of a pair of boots hitting the
floor. Batgirl turned in the direction of the noise but before she
could do anything, a blinding light exploded in her eyes. It was
disconcerting to have her own tactics turned against her.
Batgirl’s disorientation only lasted a few seconds, but it was
enough for the new arrival to grab her from behind and slip a silken
cord around her wrists, pulling it tight. She heard the laugh once
more and then the overhead lighting came back on as the
emergency generators kicked in.
Illuminated by the twin rows of track lighting that covered
the opposite walls, her assailant stood revealed. Clad in a skintight
dark purple jumpsuit that looked like it had been literally poured
onto her body, the intruder also wore a tight fitting cowl with
small cat ears. Up to this moment, Batgirl had only seen her in
artist’s sketches, but there was little doubt to her identity.
"You're the Catwoman!" she said in an excited voice.
"Congratulations. Did you figure that out all by yourself?”
Catwoman laughed.
Confidently, the purple clad huntress strode over to where
Batgirl had left the inept thieves. Slowly she shook her head and
lamented on the sorry class of criminals these days.
“Wouldn’t you just know it,” she said as she walked over to
the large glass case where a priceless and rare Egyptian cat
emerald was on display. “I spend over a week casing this place.
Then two hours hiding out after closing time in a very
uncomfortable spot. Finally an hour bypassing all of the alarms,
only to have one of these idiots trip the last of them less than ten
seconds before it would’ve gone dead. Some days you just can’t
win.”
Picking up one of the flashlights the bungling burglars had
dropped, Catwoman swung it in a wide arc and smashed open the
display case.
“Sometimes the simplest solutions are still the best,” she
grinned as she reached into the case and picked up the gemstone.
Dropping her prize into a small bag attached to her belt,
Catwoman moved over to Batgirl, stopping when their faces were
only a few inches apart.
“I hear you’ve been screwing the junior Batman,” she said.
“I admire your taste. He’s both cute and a pretty nice fuck.”
Batgirl didn’t know what to answer. Her only thought was
that if public knowledge of her relationship with Robin had reached
that far, then she had ended it just in time.
“I was his first, I don’t know if he told you that,” she
whispered in Batgirl’s ear. “So every time he gets you off. Every
time you feel his tongue in your pussy. Think of me cause I’m the
one who showed him how it’s done.”
Then without warning, Catwoman grabbed the back of
Batgirl’s cowl and pulled their faces together. Batgirl was startled
by the abrupt feel of Catwoman’s lips against her own, then by the
even more unanticipated touch of her tongue as it invaded her
mouth.
The kiss was endless as Catwoman seemed to radiate more
lust in a fully clothed kiss than many lovers did naked in bed.
Batgirl was only dimly aware of the feel of the feline fatale’s hands
as they cradled her cloth covered breasts.
“It’s a pity that time is so short and the police so near.”
Catwoman purred. “I’d really love to show you how it’s done as well.
I’ve always had a thing for redheads.”
One more brief kiss and she was gone, leaving a Batgirl both
embarrassed and tantalizingly aroused.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
“Well, maybe once or twice,” Batgirl found herself
admitting.
“That still going on?” a curious Catwoman asked. “You and
the Boy Wonder?”
“That sort of burned itself out a while back,” Batgirl said,
finding it strange that he was being so open with this woman who
despite the events of the day, was still a wanted criminal.
“Oh that’s right,” Catwoman grinned, “I remember seeing a
picture of him with that alien woman from the Titans in People
once. What was her name, Cori something or other?”
“Koriand’r” Batgirl corrected her.
“Oh yeah, that was it,” Catwoman said. “Fantastic bod on
her, I wouldn’t mind checking that out myself.”
Batgirl felt a hot flush wash over her body. The first time
she had actually met Robin’s new love, her reaction had been pretty
much the same. Of course she found herself involved with her own
alien lover soon after, and she wouldn’t have traded her
relationship with Supergirl for anything in the world. Even now,
after they had gone on to different loves, she still considered Kara
her best friend.
The memory of her time with the Girl of Steel reminded
Batgirl that at the moment, there was no one special in her life.
As Barbara Gordon, she’d been dating Jason Bard on and off but
that was going nowhere. Her only real sexual satisfaction these
days had been coming from what she had jokingly termed, the
Bat-vibrator.
“I’m curious,” Catwoman said as she settled back in her
chair, obviously beginning to enjoy the verbal exchange. “How did
you wind up as Batgirl? I’ve always wondered about things like
that.”
“Tell you what,” Batgirl replied, “Keeping in mind that there
are aspects that I’m sure each of us would rather keep private, I’ll
trade you stories.”
“That sounds fair,” the Princess of Plunder answered. “In
fact, I’ll even go first.”
Batgirl quickly accepted her offer to go first. Going second
would give her the opportunity to decide how much of her own
story she actually wanted to tell.
“Well I guess the place to start is at the beginning,”
Catwoman smiled as she took another fruit juice from the table.
“Like a lot of people born where I was, I didn’t have the best of
beginnings. Not that I’m going to blame that as the cause of the
choices I’ve made in my life.”
She paused to take a long drink of her juice.
The Feline Fatale went on, telling how she married very
young to a man almost old enough to be her father. At the time, he
seemed to be the answer to all of her dreams. He instead turned
out to be the stuff of her worst nightmares.
A Jekyll/Hyde personality, he alternated between showering
her with gifts and fists. One such incident left her lying in a
hospital bed, filled with the determination that no one would ever
control her life again. She never went back to him and his lawyers
made sure the divorce sailed through the courts, leaving her not
even the gifts of jewelry he had given her.
Practically tossed out on the streets, she learned the crafts
that would eventually lead to her becoming one of the most skilled
cat burglars in the world. Without going into details on how she
had managed it, the woman who would become Catwoman traveled
the world, learning from the best there was.
The greatest testament to how well she had learned her skill
was that while she had been suspected of many famous robberies,
she had never been so much as charged with any crime or spent so
much as a night in jail. That incident with Batgirl had been one of
the very few times she had ever been seen.
“What eventually happened to your husband?” a curious
Batgirl asked.
“Strangest thing,” Catwoman answered. “A few years after
I left, someone cracked the safe in his country home. Aside from
a few hundred thousand dollars worth of jewelry, some of which
were things he had bought for me, the thief also made off with
papers outlining his complicity in some highly illegal business
dealings. Specifically, trade with a middle eastern country which is
still under a trade embargo.”
Batgirl could take the story from there, it had been the lead
on every network for almost a month. The papers mysteriously
wound up on the desk of a rising U.S. Attorney General one
morning, someone who was smart enough to use the prosecution
that resulted from them to make a name for himself. Currently, he
was finishing his second term as the Mayor of a major
northeastern city.
“And the jewels?” Batgirl asked.
“It’s funny but I don’t think he ever even reported them as
stolen.”
“Well I guess now it’s my turn,” Batgirl said. “In the
beginning, the very idea of being a costumed crimefighter was the
furthest thing from my mind.”
She explained how her first Batgirl outfit had actually been
made to wear at a costume party. On the way out to the event,
she had stumbled upon a kidnapping in progress, the victim being a
rather prominent citizen. Trained in both the martial arts as well
as being an almost Olympic class athlete, she had jumped into the
fray without really thinking about the danger.
“I never imagined the incredible rush that could come from
something like that,” Batgirl said. “It was exciting and addictive.
By the time I got home that night, I knew I’d wear that costume
again.”
“I can understand the rush,” Catwoman agreed, having felt
much the same thing the night she had taken back from her
ex-husband what was rightfully hers.
A long pause followed as each woman looked at the other.
Batgirl could only guess at what was on Catwoman’s mind, but she
realized half way through the master thief’s story the attraction
she was feeling for the beautiful woman across from her.
The redhead thought back to the night Catwoman had kissed
her at the Museum, a kiss that had stayed with her for many
months after. Even though she’d had several female lovers since
then, the thought of what it might’ve be like with Catwoman
seemed to come back time after time. It was like forbidden fruit,
the more you knew you shouldn’t have it, the more you wanted it.
That look of wanting must’ve been highly evident on Batgirl’s
face, otherwise the next words out of Catwoman’s mouth made her
out as a mind reader.
“You know, the night is still quite young,” she said with a
knowing smile, “and it would be a shame to waste this apartment,
or the bed.”
Batgirl opened her mouth to issue a false statement of
shock that the purple garbed woman would even suggest such a
thing. That feeble protest died unborn as Catwoman leaned over
and kissed Batgirl. A kiss as sweet and inviting as it had been that
night years before.
“My name is Selina,” she said as their lips parted.
“Barbara,” came the reply in a voice filled with a sense of
surrender as the all too human Batgirl relinquished the Mantle of
the Bat for the needs of the flesh.
Barbara felt herself falling into a swirling whirlpool as
Selina's mouth again found hers. There was a sexual hunger in
Catwoman unlike anything the younger woman had ever
experienced. A craving she found herself all too willing to
surrender to.
As their lips met, a jolt of erotic electricity passed between
them. It was a lust forbidden, one that few would ever
understand. Barbara felt Selina's hands on her breasts. Hands
that brought pleasure with their strength. She could feel her
nipples responding beneath her costume, growing hard and anxious.
Using one hand, the Feline Fatale undid Batgirl's cape and
utility belt as she continued her enticements. A moment later, a
pair of bright yellow gloves joined them on the floor.
Batgirl kissed Selina with equal passion as the older woman
grabbed the bottom of her gray shirt and pulled the top of her
costume up and over her still masked head. Tossing it aside,
Selina's attention immediately returned to the now exposed
mounds, covered only by a thin black sports bra.
A bra that gave way just as easily as Selina slid her fingers
beneath it and pushed it up, exposing the soft rounded flesh
beneath it. Nimble fingers played against the excited nipples as
hard nails pressed into soft flesh. A combination that fueled a
rising passion. Desire that grew in intensity as they were replaced
by the sweet softness of the Catwoman's mouth.
"Oh yes!" the woman under the bat-cowl called out as she
felt her nipple disappear inside Selina's mouth.
The arch criminal's talented tongue worked its magic on
Barbara's breasts, drawing out every once of pleasure they
possessed. The combination of gentle tickling and soft bites,
pleasure and pain, was enough to bring the redhead to the edge.
Barbara moaned even louder as Selina continued to play with
her nipples with both her hands and mouth. Skillfully her tongue
traced the outline of the small pink circles before pressing her
face deep within the valley between.
Her tongue licked every inch of exposed flesh, planting
kisses along the way. Barbara slid her hands under her breasts,
lifting them it to give her new lover greater access. Selina eagerly
accepted the gesture and continued to deliver even more of the
pleasure she’d given already. Quickly shifting from mound to
mound, she also slid a hand down between Barbara's legs and
rubbed the still covered delights between them.
Just as it seemed that Barbara couldn't take any more,
Selina abruptly stopped her affections and broke their embrace.
Stepping back a few feet, she reached behind her and undid the
hidden zipper that held her form fitting catsuit in place. Quickly
it joined her previously discarded catsclaws on the floor. In no
time at all, she was totally bare.
Following Selina's lead, Barbara quickly rid herself of the
rest of her costume as well, leaving a pair of thin white lace
panties that barely covered her small red mound. She had seen
Catwoman out of costume earlier, yet still felt an urgent
excitement watching her disrobe again.
Her hand went to the mask still concealing her face and
hesitated. It was the last wall to the woman beneath. A thin cloth
barrier that she wasn't sure she was ready yet to discard.
"That's okay," Selina said as she saw her hesitation. "Leave
it on. It's more kinky that way." she laughingly added.
Stepping back to Batgirl, Selina took her hand away from
her cowl and kissed it, taking her fingers in her mouth one by one.
Then she placed Barbara's hand on her right breast, inviting her to
repeat Selina's earlier actions. An invitation Batgirl eagerly
accepted, pressing her face between Selina's mounds.
Barbara kissed Selina's breast, running her tongue across
the soft flesh. Selina gave out a small moan in response to her
touch. Barbara took her time, darting her tongue to and fro,
tracing wide circles around the rigid nipples. She tickled it with
her tongue, then glided it between her lips.
Selina held Barbara's head in place, running her fingers
through the long red hair that hung from beneath her cowl. The
rush of excitement she felt as the heroine sucked at her breast
was different than any she had felt from previous lovers. Part of
her wished she could see the face of the girl behind the mask, if
only to fully appreciate the beauty she knew would be found there.
As Barbara continued to orally please Selina, the dark haired
woman took the opportunity to slide her hands down to Barbara's
waist and under the band of her thin panties. Tightening her grip,
she pulled along the seam, ripping the fragile material in half.
The gossamer cloth fluttered to the ground as Selina's hand
once more moved between Barbara's legs. This time her finger slid
right past the tightly trimmed red mound and inside the nude
Darknight Damsel.
She held Barbara's mouth tight against her breasts as she
moved, first a second finger, then a third to join the first. Slowly
at first, then with increasing rabidity, she moved her fingers in
and out of the masked woman. With each new resounding
movement, she sent a pulsing tremor through Batgirl's already
quaking body.
Barbara's legs felt weak beneath her as Selina continued
with her expert manipulations. It was a sweet, wonderful
weakness. One that she hadn't felt for a very long time.
Lost in her enjoyment, Barbara was caught off guard by a
sudden movement as Selina withdrew her hand and pulled the
redhead's legs from under her. The unanticipated loss of balance
caused Barbara to fall backward, dropping onto the adjacent bed,
Selina followed right after her, taking hold of each of
Barbara's legs and lifting them apart. Bending downward,
Selina lowered her face between them, her tongue following the
path within the bright red patch that her fingers had blazed. An
anxious path to the delights beneath.
Like a kitten with a saucer of milk, Selina's tongue darted in
and out of her prize, savoring the sweet nectar found there. An
appreciation that was just as enjoyable to both women. It was a
skill that she had learned early in her life, and as with all her skills,
one she had honed to perfection.
"Oh Selina!" Barbara gasped as she balled the sheet
beneath her in her hands, the fires within her rising to a boiling
point.
The scent of rising lust, coupled with Barbara's
encouragement, was like catnip, driving Selina even harder. She
pressed her pulsating mouth closer and now took the excited clit
before her into her mouth as well.
It took all of Barbara's will power to push Selina away. Just
long enough for the two of them to change position so that she
could enjoy Selina's fruits as well.
Barbara didn't have Selina's years of experience, but she
did have some very good teachers. Nimble fingers and a highly
charged desire quickly closed the gap between the two women. In
no time at all, they were both well on the road to orgasm.
Both bodies gyrated faster and faster, driven on by the lust
radiating from the other. Heartbeats raced as naked flesh burned
with desire. A desire ready to explode.
Explode it did, with an intensity that surprised both of
them. Barbara felt as if her body was turning inside out as every
pore seemed to burst with the aftermath of their passions. Selina
likewise was enjoying an unfamiliar level of ecstasy.
Both bodies jerked violently as they were consumed by the
bodyquake that ripped through each of them. An upheaval that
seemed strongest in Barbara. Her vision blurred and for the first
time in her life, she felt herself blacking out. Not even Supergirl
had ever done that to her.
Consciousness returned to the woman called Batgirl as she
lifted her head off the bed and looked around the room. Barbara
wasn't sure exactly how much time had passed as she took in her
surroundings, but she was positive it couldn't have been more than
a few minutes.
Covered in sweat, she sat up on the edge of the bed and
reached up to the cowl still covering her face. Undoing the hidden
clasp, she pulled off the mask she had worn all during their
lovemaking.
Barbara ran her hands through her long red hair. Her body
was filled with both a sense of exhaustion as well as one of
exhilaration. No sexual experience in her life had ever been as
satisfying as those few moments when the two of them had passed
through the gates of heaven and hell.
A glance at the floor when she had first opened her eyes
revealed only her costume scattered across the carpet. She knew
she was alone and Catwoman was long gone. As she thought about
it some more, she had a brief impression of a last kiss good-bye. A
tingling she could still feel on her lips as she gently ran her fingers
across them.
Gathering up her costume, she carried it into the bathroom
and tossed it in the corner. Reaching into the shower, she turned
on the water and let it run until a small cloud of steam began to fill
the room.
The tepid water felt invigorating as Barbara stepped under
the showerhead, clearing away the last vestiges of fog from her
thoughts. Yet even as her mind cleared and she washed the
remnants of their lovemaking from her body, a single image burned
in her memory. An image of the most beautiful green eyes she had
ever seen.
Eyes like emeralds, so like those of a cat. No, not a cat, she
thought as she splashed water on her face, the eyes of a tigress.
As she stepped from the shower and wrapped a towel around
her, one last thought filled her mind. The next time she looked
into those eyes, and there definitely was going to be a next time,
there would be no mask to prevent Selina from looking just as deep
into hers.
END
(c) Ann Douglas 2001
Please take a few moments to send a note, anonymous if you
wish, and let me know what you thought of the story. B
e sure
to let me know what story it was that you read. Just so I can
know who my audience is, a first name and age at the end
would be appreciated. If you’d like a reply or have a question,
then just also add an e-mail address. Thanks in advance.