Reacquainted Pt. 03

"Purr-fect!" she growled, "Betrayed by your body. Poor little superhero! What happened to all those lofty principals? Gonna be tough fighting evil when evil gets your dick hard. I'm curious, Handsome, what did it for you? Did you like watching my big tits bounce while I beat your little slut? Was it her screams? I liked those. My pussy is so fucking wet right now, I might just cut that costume off you and climb on; use that nice big cock like my own personal fuck toy? Or was it that last bit," she turned to smile at Vicki, "when your sweet, innocent little girlfriend begged to be allowed to stick her tongue down my throat?"

As she spoke, Catwoman continued to stroke her prisoner's cock. From the tip of a claw, she had progressed to the pads of two fingers, and now she was squeezing him, feeling him grow longer and harder.

"Oh, Batman!" she breathed, "Is that a nightstick in your spandex, or are you just enjoying the show? Hold still now. I've been waiting for years to see the man behind the bat. I don't want to cut it off...yet, mrr-ow!"

She pinched a small fold in the fabric above his chest. Carefully and gently, she cut the spandex with the tip of her knife, then, working with the back of the blade against his skin, she began to tear off the top of his suit. She purred and cooed as she revealed first his powerful chest and shoulders, with their light dusting of black hair. She worked lower, revealing tight, muscular abs, muttering under her breath: "Lucky little bitch!" A quick slice through the waistband and the blue shorts fell to pool around one bound ankle, and then she was slicing away the fabric over his right thigh, widening the gap to reveal...

33.

Theo Sutcliffe was a big man: tall, broad shouldered, and—although he didn't know it; hadn't made a practice of comparing himself to other guys in the locker room or barracks—well endowed. His erect cock was long and straight and—as Jen had said that first day at Has Beans—quite thick. Mags giggled as it leapt into view, free at last from to the tight confines of the nylon. She could feel the moisture between her legs, the slight increase in her heartbeat, the rush of saliva to her mouth. Women responded to visual stimulation as readily as men did, provided it was the right kind of visual stimulation, and especially when they knew they would have a chance to do more than just look.

34.

Theo had no language left. There was, apparently, a trickle of blood left in his brain; just enough to fire the couple of synapses necessary to remind him that his most vivid adolescent fantasies were about to be... He barely noticed as she cut way his costume; his world shrunken to the sound of her voice in his ear, the sight of her body and her eyes behind the black mocking mask, and the feel of her hands on his...wait a minute. Where was she? His mind cleared for a second and he reoriented himself: shackled to this...table or whatever it was, Jen bound, naked, disheveled and incredibly beautiful, frighteningly sexy, maybe six-eight feet away from him, and a click...what? A click? What clicked? Where was Catwoman?

35.

Jen/Vicki watched Mags/Catwoman cut the costume off her husband's body, listened to her pornographic litany, and ached all over. Her ass—she liked the sound of that in her head—her sexy little ass; what had Mags said? Herfuckablelittle ass—hurt like hell, but that was the least of it. Her whole body, her whole psyche wanted, craved, physical sensation: sight, sound, smell, taste, touch, especially touch...but...maybe, maybe not especially...her imagination was completely out of control, images swirled around her head: Mags, Vicki, Batman, Jen, Theo, Theo's chest, Mags' breasts, her ass, her...pussy, Catwoman, flogging, Batman's cock, CatMags' tongue, VickJen lips, tongue, Bat-Theo, Batcock...sweat, wet, aches in the abs, cumming, shoulders...her shoulders hurt like...Mags...Catwoman, please, oh please, ohpleaseohpleaseohplease!

36.

Catwoman stepped out of the bathroom. She wore the thigh high boots, her mask and ears; nothing else. Batman and Vicki Vale stared at her body: slender arms, delicate hands, long neck, full high breasts, flat stomach, small waist, delicate curve to slightly flared hips, round firm ass, muscular thighs, long graceful legs, and her pussy: smooth and pale, her cleft a tiny line, dark against the soft pink flesh. In her ungloved hands she held a light chain attached to a leather band. She sauntered over to Vicki, green eyes locked on the little blonde's pale blues. She reached up, breasts rising with the motion, nipples hard and erect. She undid the clip holding the rope. Vicki's shoulders slumped, and she sank to her knees. Catwoman squatted beside her and undid the cuffs.

"We don't need these any more, do we, Kitten?"

Vicki said nothing. She stepped away from the ruin of her dress, and stood before the taller woman.

"Good girl!" purred Catwoman, as she fastened the collar around the smaller girl's slender throat. Then holding the chain leash attached to the collar, she led her pet over to where Batman stood, bound and naked except for his mask. The two women stopped less than two feet from the bound man.

Catewoman stared into Batman's eyes as she spoke to Vicki. "Would you like a kiss, Princess?"

"Oh, yes!"

"Ask me nicely."

"Please kiss me, Catwoman?"

"Very good, Sweetie!" Catwoman wrapped her arms around the petite blonde's waist. Vicki's head fell back; her lips parted. Catwoman moved her arms up Vicki's back as the two bodies came together, breasts brushing. With a last look at Batman, Catwoman stuck out a long tongue and thrust it between her victim's willing lips. Vicki moaned and leaned into the kiss, her mouth open wide, her tongue dancing and circling, appearing and disappearing as the two pairs of lips met and parted. Catwoman broke the kiss. Vicki's eyes stayed closed, and she mewed softly "No!"

"She's mine now, Bats. I'll play with her until I get tired of her, and then I'll throw her away...if I don't break her first. I can be tough on my toys. That's OK with you, isn't it?" She reached out and grabbed her prisoner's cock, jerking it roughly. "Mmm...doesn't seem to bother you much, does it?"

"Catwoman..."

"You've lost, Batman. I kidnapped your woman, lured you here, trapped you, stripped you both, made you watch while I tortured her, and now look at you!" She began to laugh. "You love it, don't you? Look at that big, thick cock of yours just dripping pre-cum. Shall I make little Vicki lick it up?" Then another idea seemed to strike her. "M-rrow, no." She turned to her new toy. "Open your mouth, Vicks." The blonde complied at once. Catwoman gathered up the leash into a lose coil and put it between the girl's teeth. "Now go into that little bathroom. There's a folding chair against the wall. Bring it here." As Vicki turned to go, her mistress gave her a quick slap against her reddened ass. Vicki squealed, but didn't drop the leash. "Good girl!" purred Catwoman.

37.

When Vicki returned with the chair, she was instructed to unfold it and set it less than a foot away from the table to which Batman was bound. Catwoman sat down and spread her legs. "Kneel." Unmistakably a command. Vicki knelt. "Eat my pussy, Princess, while I have a little fun with your boyfriend."

Vicki looked up at her mistress uncertainly. For a moment Mags came out of the roleplay. She remembered that Jen had no experience with oral sex, either giving or receiving. She hesitated a moment, looking carefully into Jen's eyes. Too much? No safe word; so that wasn't the problem. Mags flicked here eyes down. Jen's followed. She saw Mags' legs open, the lips of her vagina spread slightly: deep pink crinkled flesh surrounded by the pale pink skin of the outer labia. Mags dropped a hand to her lap. Her first and third fingers spread her inner lips while her second finger tapped lightly against her clit. Jen saw, looked up, murmured: "Yes, Mistress." Then she leaned forward, stuck out the tip of her tongue, and began to lick.

38.

Catwoman gasped as her new pet's tongue began its first tentative assault on her clit: slow gentle strokes, each one sending a bolt of electricity through her. Her breath quickened, and she hummed in satisfaction. Then she reached for her other captive's cock, less than a foot from her face as she sat on the cold metal seat. Her hand tightened around the shaft, and she leaned her face close to it, so that her prisoner could feel her warm breath on the swollen head of his dick. "Ooh...yes! You know what, Bats? Oh, that's it, Princess, just like that...this is a dream come true for me. Yessss! Harder, Cutie pie...that's it! If you knew how many times I've lain in bed fingering my wet cunt and thinking of forcing you to submit to my nastiest whims...ooh, you're good at this, you hot little bitch...well, look at me now...oh yeah, yeah...your little whore with her face between my legs, and your lovely cock just inches from my lips. Shall I suck your cock, Batman? Would you like that?"

"Yes." Low and muttered; almost inaudible.

"I'm sorry...huh, yes...oh yuh...I didn't hear that...your girlfriend is...distracting me..."

"Yes!" louder, "I want you to..."

"To what, Handsome? You'll have to say it..."

"I want you to suck...suck my...why is it so...I want you to suck my cock!"

Catwoman screamed as Vicki forced her face between her mistress' thighs and lashed at her clit like a woman possessed. "OOOOHH, Goddam, that is soooo fucking good!" Then she leaned in and wrapped her lips around the head of her captive's cock, and swiped at the slit with the tip of her long tongue. Then she began sucking gently. Batman made a sound somewhere between a moan and a bellow, and Catwoman felt his shaft swell. She gripped the base of his dick hard and squeezed, even as she felt her own orgasm begin to build.

"Quick...ooh, God!...off the mark...aren't you...unh, yeah, right there...that's it...yuh, yuh, uhhhnngh...you're not cumming yet, Stud. In fact, I'm not sure...yes, oh GOD, yes!...if I'm gonna let you...uhn...oooh, oooh, yuh, yuh...cum at all...ohgodyoulittleslut, don't stop, don't stop, DON'T ST...AHHH!"

Her body bucked and twisted. Vicki felt powerful thigh muscles squeeze her ears, once, twice, three, four, five...six times, then the pressure eased. Her tongue darted forward once more, another quick squeeze, and then the body above her relaxed. A sigh, and a hand in her hair, pulling her face back, and she was staring into those beautiful, fiery green eyes, behind the black mask.

"Oh, Princess, I may have to keep you around for a little while." purred Catwoman. "Now, where was I? Oh that's right," she turned to stare, almost as if she were surprised, at the thick rod of flesh gripped tightly in her left hand, "I was sucking your boyfriend's cock." She leaned forward and, starting just above his balls, ran the tip of her tongue up the length of Batman's shaft. He groaned. Then she stuck the head in her mouth and sucked hard, taking him deeper, inch by inch. When she felt the head of his dick at the back of her throat, she began to jack him off slowly and gently. She bobbed her head up and down, swirling her tongue around him as she went. His cock seemed to expand in her mouth. He said: "Please..."

Her hand dropped from his shaft and she popped him out of her mouth. With a malicious smile she watched his cock thrust forward in a vain attempt to regain some sensation. "Oh, Bats," she cooed, "and it's not even my birthday! Are you begging your arch-enemy, the depraved and evil Catwoman, to finish sucking you offin front of your girlfriend?"

"Yes, God damn it, just...please...I'm so..."

"Mistress, may I..." Vicki had raised herself on her knees. The desperation, the need in her man's voice worked on her like a hit of adrenaline. She reached for him, clumsy in her confusion, a hand finding his thigh as she moved her face forward, her lips parted.

But Catwoman's right hand hadn't yet left her head. She closed it into a fist, and yanked the little blonde backwards. Off balance, Vicki sat down hard on her behind, still red and tender from her flogging. The carpet burned against her ass as she slid a few inches, and she screamed at the sudden pain.

Catwoman laughed out loud. "You two are so precious! No, Sweetheart, you may absolutely fucking NOT!" A tense silence followed the last shouted word. With cold ferocity, she continued. "His cock and his orgasm belong tome. Isay when he cums. I say where he cums, and," she smiled cruelly, "I sayifhe cums. Everybody clear on that?"

Silence.

"Good. N-rrow, what are we going to do about your little problem, Bat-stud?" She stood up and came close. Reaching down she closed her hand around his erection. He moaned in anticipation, but she didn't move. "You're close, aren't you, Batman?" purred his torturess. "You want to cum, don't you? Silly question; that's what you've been begging for, isn't it. You know, I'm very angry at you, Bats? All those times you've had me tied up, defeated, helpless, and you with this big, thick, beautiful cock of yours," she stroked it slowly as she spoke, "and you never once had the common decency to throw me down on some dirty rooftop, tear my clothes off, bury your batstick in my juicy little cunt and fuck me stupid."

She dropped his cock, and smiled to hear his breath catch in frustration. Moving behind him, she continued: "That was a bad decision, Batman." There was a soft chunk, a rattle, and what little play there had been in the chain binding his right wrist disappeared. His arm was now pinned to the table. "Not playing with my titties when I offered them to you? Bad decision." The same chunk-rattle, and his left arm was similarly immobilized. She sauntered back around to face him, her breasts inches from his chest. She reached a hand up to stroke his cheek. In a voice at once soft, sweet and poisonous, she said: "And if you insist on making bad decisions, you have to accept the consequences, don't you, Bats?"

Her victim said nothing. She smiled then: soft red lips, cool white teeth, cold green eyes full of triumph and cruelty. "Of course you do," she purred. "And I'm going to show you what those consequences are, Batman." The smile became an evil little giggle. "You know...whipping little Vicki really got me going...maybe I'll torture you too...just a little bit..."

39.

Catwoman sat back down, and contemplated her prisoner's cock, now inches from her lips. She leaned in, so that her victim could feel her warm breath across the head of his dick as she spoke softly. "Ooh, poor baby, look how hard you are! Is it painful? Seems a little unfair, doesn't it?" She indicated Vicki, crouched at her feet. The pretty blonde looked...desperate; torn between compassion and naked animal lust. Mags allowed herself a moment outside of the role play to meet Jen's eyes...checking in...all good so far? Jen surfaced for a second and gave her a small smile: a little scared, a lot turned on, and definitely still game. Mags winked, then slipping back into character, she snarled: "Stay where you are, Cutie-pie. This is between me and the Bat...for now."

"As I was saying," continued the villainess, "unfair, huh? Two beautiful, naked women, right here, capable of...well, anything, really. Vicki here would happily run those pretty pink lips up and down...up and down that nice thick shaft. It'd feel soooo good, wouldn't it? A couple of quick sucks, and you'd be flooding that naughty little mouth of hers." She ran the pad of her index finger lightly over the engorged pink head of her captive's dick, and was rewarded with a groan of frustration. "I'll bet you've got a big load saved up, haven't you, Stud? That little mouth might not be able to hold it all. A little might leak, and then you'd get to watch that busy little tongue searching...searching ...making sure she gets every nasty little drop..."

"Unfortunately, I'm feeling...a little contrary this evening. So! No cock for Vicki." There was a little whine of frustration from the blonde on the floor. "Patience, Pet." Then back to the bound man: "No, perhaps I'll just take care of you myself. I think I'll wrap my big, soft tits around your shaft and just...mmmm-rowrr..." Catwoman stood and stretched languidly. Then she cupped her naked breasts, bouncing them gently, and watching with pleasure as she saw Batman's eyes riveted to the gentle liquid movement of her titflesh. "Mmmm, you like that idea, don't you, Bats? You'd like to slide your nice thick cock of yours right in here,"—Catwoman rolled her shoulders forward creating a deep cleavage into which she drew a lazy forefinger. She drew it out again abruptly, and pouted: "Oooh, it's hot in there. And maybe a little dry. Maybe I'll ask your little slut to lick and suck on my titties for awhile, get them all nice and wet for you. Then you could slide that poor painful hard-on up and down...up and down between them..."

40.

It took Theo a good few seconds to remember that he was supposed to be "Bats." In an hour...maybe less...who knew, this insane, beautiful...he didn't know what to call her, had reduced him to...what? Lust? Need? Pain? Check, check, check: all present and accounted for. And what the...? He thought he'd known about sex. Sure, there was stuff he and Jen hadn't...gotten around to yet, but this was... And Jen was...in on this, and into this...it had been her idea...seriously? His little Jen? How had she known about...? Ah, hell, she'd found the...sure she had. It wasn't like he'd hidden it all that carefully. OK, but where had she found...Catwoman? And how had...had to call her Catwoman, what the hell else could he call her... reached into his memory and just...pulled out his adolescent fantasies? And now...wait, what had she just said?

41.

"Oh wait!" The beautiful masked woman brought a long finger up to her mouth and tapped her lips, a thoughtful expression on her face. "That's right. You don't like my breasts do you? You didn't even want to touch them, wouldn't even do it when I begged." She stepped close to him and grabbed his erection, squeezing hard. She hissed: "So, I guess that means no titfuck for you!" She squeezed him harder, saw him flinch, giggled: "I bet that hurts, doesn't it?" He nodded. "Good!" she snarled the word, and her eyes grew bright with malice. "Doesn't seem to be getting any softer thought, does it, Bats? Still aching," her voice dropped to the sexiest of purrs, "still throbbing, still desperate for my warm, wet mouth, my long tongue," she drew the tip of it slowly around her full lips, "my hot, wet cunt? Poor Bat-baby," she whispered, and he could hear the smile in her voice, "it must be agony."

She stepped away from him then, her hand still wrapped tight around her victim's cock. "Kitten," she snapped, "stand up and come here." When the little blonde stood in front of her, Catwoman stared into Batman's face. "Vicki-kins," she purred, "why don't you show this pathetic excuse for a superhero how a person is supposed to behave when a beautiful woman offers herself to him," she turned back and fixed her gaze on her new pet, "or in this case, to her."

42.

Jen looked uncertainly into the face of her friend. A woman she'd barely known a few months ago, and who, in the course of this evening alone, had bound her, stripped her, fingered her to the best orgasm of her life, whipped her, brought herself to orgasm on Jen's tongue, and, by the way, bound Jen's husband, stripped him, sucked him, and tortured him (was still torturing him) by denying his orgasm. During the course of the evening, one sensation after another had threatened to overwhelm her completely: the sight of her husband's...cock—the word had begun to come to her mind more easily—red and swollen, and larger than it had ever seemed before, the sounds of the chains as she'd pretended to struggle when the dress was cut from her body, the tickling of the back of the knife against her skin, the rasp of Mags' long tongue on her aching nipples, the sweet-and-sour smell of her friend's pussy, and then the taste of it: her first ever taste of another woman. Up to this point it had been...words failed her, not because she couldn't come up with words, but because none of the words she could conjure seemed...enough: wonderful, exciting, astonishing; all true, but none came close to describing how Mags had...nope, no words. And so she stood looking into the green eyes behind the cat's-eye mask, with no idea of what was expected of her, or of what could possibly come next.