[Catwoman/Penguin] The Bird Catches The Cat

In roughly 42 hours, the Iceberg Lounge would be hosting the “Snowbird Charity Auction”, a gala event to raise funds for the critically endangered Arctic Curlew. If one were to examine the guest list, they’d likely take note of a surprising lack of well-known, wealthy philanthropists for what was purportedly a charity event. Names like Wayne, Kord, Quinn or Holt were oddly absent and replaced with names like Sabatino, Maroni, Thorne, Falcone and Mannheim. One didn’t have to be the world’s greatest detective to deduce the true intent of the event. The location. The unusual guest list. No information sent to the press. No publicly declared list of items up for auction. It all pointed to an underground auction of illegally obtained art and antiquities. A layman might think that the greatest danger to such an event would be law enforcement. In other cities, that might very well be the case...but not in Gotham (in fact, Mayor Hill and the head of the Gotham FBI were both on the list of VIPs invited to the event). The Mona Lisa itself could go up on the auction block and no one would blink an eye. The true danger was not law enforcement but the very art thieves that stocked the auction’s inventory in the first place. Stolen goods couldn’t be reported to the police (even in a city as corrupt as Gotham) and certainly couldn’t be insured. Despite the common saying, there is truly no honor among thieves. This was exactly why the items soon to go up for auction were being stored in Warehouse # 42 until they were ready to be sent to the Iceberg Lounge. From the outside, the warehouse was an unassuming gray brick of a building nestled among dozens of similar structures in Gotham’s harbor district. The exterior bore a simple sign with the number “42” inscribed upon it. That anonymous, unremarkable facade was entirely by design. Despite the building’s bland exterior, the interior of Warehouse 42 was a cutting edge vault, filled with row after row of lockers. There were no human guards patrolling the building’s dark corridors. Too unreliable. Too prone to bribery or temptation. Instead, sensors set into the floor would detect anyone walking across the floor, even the humble footsteps of a mouse would send an alert to the offsite security office. That same security office also monitored a live feed provided by nearly a dozen hovering camera-drones. The little robots hovered on four buzzing rotors and followed a precise, ceaseless patrol route. Even if their off-site handler fell asleep at the monitor, they were quite capable of identifying and neutralizing intruders with their miniature machine guns. They were an AmerTek product, meant to be produced exclusively for the military. The beams of their small spotlights were the only source of light in the warehouse. Anyone attempting to break into Warehouse 42 via traditional means would be dead in short order and it was unlikely the Gotham police would either know or care. In the darkness of the warehouse’s rafters, a slightly darker shape descended. If there had been anyone watching the rooftops of the warehouse and its neighboring buildings, then they would see that figure lithely bounding from rooftop to rooftop. Sometimes it used a long whip to snag a protruding duct or HVAC outlet. Sometimes it climbed directly up the walls, fingers and toes leaving claw marks in the cement and plaster. It was inside the warehouse now, having entered silently through the rooftop. A chemical agent had cut a silent hole through the roof and into the HVAC ducts...Human guards might have noticed the burning scent...but drones didn't have noses. The shape landed in almost total silence on top of one of the many rows of lockers. The dim, vestigial lights of the warehouse glinted off of the figure’s rich curves, covered (but hardly concealed) by her glossy, skin-tight suit. The outfit covered her nearly head-to-toe, except for a glimpse of pale, creamy skin and a hint of cleavage around the suit’s neckline. The bottom of her face was also uncovered, revealing lips painted with dark-cherry lipstick. All this tech and it all goes to waste because they weren’t smart enough to hire someone to think in three dimensions. Selina Kyle, known among her peers and the police as Catwoman, smirked as she wound up the microwire cable she had used to rappel down from the ceiling before tucking it into a small pouch by her waist. I should really be charging Cobblepot for pointing out all the flaws in his security. A wicked smile crossed her full lips. Maybe I’ll send him an invoice once this is all over. She almost laughed out loud at the thought of the pompous little man fuming over the insult. The warehouse’s security might have a blindspot above ground level but the drones had sound sensors and would be on her in a second if she were to burst out laughing. She trotted across the top of the row of lockers and leapt to the next one over. Her heels had cushions and shock absorbers and the faint sound of her footsteps was completely lost under the sound of the drone’s own rotors. First mistake, Cobblepot. Don’t put these things so close together. Selina shook her head. Why even make them flat on top? Put an angle on it and no one would be able to balance on it at all. Maybe I actually should do this for a living. Selina pondered as she hopped easily from one row of lockers to another. She knew a few thieves who had gone “white hat” and used their talents to design and stress test security systems. She could probably make good money from that. A lot safer too...those thieves probably didn’t run their tests with live rounds in the guns. But it just wouldn’t be any fun without the theft. No jewel glitters as brightly as a stolen one. Catwoman crouched on top of one of the reinforced concrete locker units. The tight, glossy material of her suit stretched across her long, slender legs and over the taut curve of her hips as she leaned over the edge. One of those AmerTek security drones was approaching. She retrieved her tightly coiled whip from her waist, carefully judging the distance between the warehouse’s rafters and the floor. With a snap of her wrist (careful not to crack the whip) the tip of the whip spooled tightly around one of the firmer-looking anchor points just above her head. She gripped the handle tightly and wrapped the length around her wrist a few times to make sure it was secure, before jumping headfirst off of the ledge and towards the drone below. Her instincts were spot-on and the whip reached its full extension a few feet above the drone, right as it began to pass underneath. A foot further and her head would have smacked into the machine and a moment sooner or later and the drone’s 360-degree cameras would have spotted her. Unfortunately, the designers had failed to account for the blind spot directly above their tiny murder-bots. Catwoman hung upside down by her whip. Her legs were wrapped tightly around the taut cord, pressing it against her belly and causing the quivering length of the kevlar whip to press against her chest, right between her breasts. Who knew those pole-dancing classes would be so useful? Held gently between the clawed fingertips of her free hand was a small, disk-shaped device about the size of a silver dollar. As the drone passed right underneath her she reached down and carefully placed the disk on the top of the drone’s chassis. There was a soft click, and the drone bobbed slightly as the device’s magnetic coupling engaged. A tiny LED light on the disk’s surface began to blink green, indicating a successful connection. Catwoman quickly pulled herself back up the whip and swung onto another one of the convenient locker units. A quick tug freed her whip, which was quickly returned to her belt. A new device was produced, this one far more mundane: a smartphone. Making sure to retract her claws she checked the phone to confirm that she was receiving a signal from the device she had just planted, before tapping a few icons in rapid succession. The remote interface and hacking app were gifts from a friend, a hacker by the name of Giz. Selina knew a thing or two about handling computerized security but some things were best handled by professionals. ...such as creating a program to hijack the controls of the warehouse’s entire drone network. Within moments her smartphone had access to each of the miniature gunbots. A few more minutes and they were shut off, leaving them hovering in place. Their offsite handlers were receiving nothing but a looped playback of the last hour’s worth of footage. And that is exactly why you can’t rely too much on machines. A self-satisfied smile spread across Catwoman’s face. Toys like this are nice...but they break so easily. Slipping her smartphone back into its holster she tapped the side of her goggles, smirking at her own slight hypocrisy as the high tech overlay flicked on. Some toys were just too fun not to play with. Through the lenses, Catwoman could see the entire warehouse outlined in shades of ruddy orange. Bright spots marked the locations of the disabled drones and she could make out the blurry lines indicating the weight sensors in the floor. In the far corner of the warehouse was a location marked by a pair of rotating concentric circles: her goal. The warehouse wasn’t the first place she had hit tonight...her first target had been the office of the head of Cobblepot’s security. A few minutes sifting through his hard drive had produced a complete list of all the items up for auction and their location in the warehouse...as well as hundreds of gigabytes of rather questionable pornography. She made sure to forward a few choice pieces to the Gotham PD’s SVU department, along with the man’s name and address. You’d think a security professional would know better than to have their password set to “password”. Catwoman shook her head, mentally adding another entry to the invoice she was going to leave in the Oswald Cobblepot’s office. Hiring someone new will probably do wonders for Cobblepot’s security. He should really be thanking me. Moving as lithely and quietly as her namesake, Catwoman lept from row to row, following the AR indicator to her goal. Finally, she crouched on the row of lockers she sought and flicked her goggles to a more refined night-vision mode. The item she was looking for was in one of the smaller lockers, about five feet from the ground. There was a burst of compressed air and the sound of metal on concrete as Catwoman embedded two anchors into the top of the locker unit. She paused for a moment, ears straining for any signs of danger. Intellectually, she knew that with the drones disabled there was no risk of discovery so long as she stayed off the floor but her instincts told her to stay on edge. For a brief moment, she thought she heard the faint echo of footsteps. Her heart raced and she held her breath, straining for any other sounds...everything was quiet. You’re imagining things, Selina. She chided herself. Anyone walking around down there would set off the sensor plates. She forced herself to calm down. Thieve’s couldn’t afford to be jumpy. Alert, yes, but not jumpy. She tried taking several deep breaths to steady her nerves but the tight material of her catsuit made that a little difficult. She pulled down the zipper a few inches to allow her generous chest a little more room to breathe. The skin between her breasts was damp from tense sweat and the cool night air felt delicious as it wicked away the moisture from her skin. She pulled the zipper down further down, almost to the bottom of her rib cage. She purred at the intimate touch of the cold air on her skin, her breasts barely contained by the figure-hugging material of her catsuit. Not like anyone is around to see me, is there? The thought of committing a robbery completely naked flitted idly through her mind and a wicked gleam twinkled under the lenses of her goggles. It certainly would be interesting to be caught by the big bad Bat in that particular caper. She spent a few moments distracted, wondering how the vigilante would react, before shaking her head. That’s enough, Selina. No naked burglaries, you need somewhere to keep the lockpicks, don’t you? Laughing silently to herself, Catwoman clipped the newly anchored cords to her waist and began to lower herself down to the locker waiting below. She settled in, waist supported by the two cords and feet spread out to steady herself against the wall...only inches from the sensitive pressure sensors on the floor. The position left her hands free to work. All of the lockers in this unit were about the size of a bank deposit box and bore an electronic lock, controlled by a keypad. On the upper right corner of each locker door was a small inscription, “TRTL-60“, indicating that each was designed to withstand at least an hour’s work with a diamond-tipped drill. Cobblepot’s perverted head of security had been stupid enough to leave the pdf of the locker’s owners manual on his hard drive. In a folder named “IMPORTANT WORK STUFF” no less. The included schematics indicated that each locker was equipped with a sophisticated alarm system: shock, thermal, seismic. Any attempt by a thief to force their way into one would almost instantly sound an alarm. Of course, that assumed the thief didn’t have access to the locker’s keycode. That would be nice, wouldn’t it? Catwoman mused with a small frown. Unfortunately, a convenient list of combinations and their corresponding lockers was one of the few things that the buffoon in charge of this place wasn’t stupid enough to leave laying around his hard drive. No problem. Challenging problems just require creative solutions. She pulled a thin plastic tube from one of her pouches, capped at both ends. She removed the seals, making sure not to let them fall to the ground, and placed the tube between her pursed, dark red lips. Leaning in, she blew a long puff of air through the tube directly at the keypad before removing the tube (its tip now slightly stained with lipstick) and placing it back in its pouch. Looking closely at the keypad, she began to adjust the settings on her goggles. The tube had contained an extremely fine, practically invisible powder...invisible to the naked eye at least. It emitted tiny quantities of radiation outside of the visible spectrum, which appeared clearly under the right vision mode. With her goggles, Catwoman could see the entire keypad spattered in a thick dusting of the powder. With a gentle puff of air, she blew most of it aside...leaving distinct fingerprints visible in the glowing UV light, indicating which keys had been pressed last. Catwoman increased the magnification from her goggles, getting as much detail as possible on the fine swirls and loops of the glowing fingerprints. The first button-press will have the most oil from the fingertip, so it’ll leave the clearest mark. Each button after the first will be slightly more degraded. She tapped her claw-tipped fingers on the keypad, entering the code. There was a brief pause, long enough to nearly stop her heart from stress, before the lock chirped happily and a light above the keypad blinked green. The locker popped open with a soft hiss as the airtight chamber inside equalized pressure. Catwoman hooked the tips of her claws around the door and pulled the locker open. Nestled inside the plain metal box was a single object: a plain, black jewelry box. The box was sealed with a strip of tamper-evident tape, notarized by one of the city’s most trusted and reliable fences. Plucking the box from its resting place, Catwoman cut the tape with a quick swipe of one clawed fingertip. Still hanging from the anchored ropes, Catwoman opened up the box to reveal the prize inside. Nestled in a padded, velvet-lined case was a choker made from black calf-skin leather, designed to resemble a collar. The peculiar design was one of the things that had caught her attention. Oh dear, this thing looks even more hideous up close. The collar wasn’t particularly impressive to look at. The materials - fine leather, white gold fittings and dozens of red-tinted accent diamonds - were expensive but the design was atrociously tacky. The aesthetics were poor enough that the entire thing was likely worth less than the sum of its parts. Selina might be able to sell the diamonds and precious metal fittings for a few thousand dollars but that was hardly worth the risk she had taken getting in here. Who in the world made this ugly thing? I'm not usually the shark-tank sort but if I ever meet the designer then I might make an exception. But that was because she hadn’t risked her neck for the ugly collar...her true goal was set in the collar’s platinum “nametag”. It was an incredible red diamond, slightly wider than a quarter, cut and polished into the shape of a heart. Even in the dim light of the warehouse, the jewel seemed to sparkle with an intense, fascinating inner light. Amazing...I really had my doubts. Naturally, Catwoman had an encyclopedic knowledge of valuable antiquities and jewelry...and she had never heard of this stone before browsing the security officer’s hard drive. The auction list had called it the “Bound Heart Diamond” and noted that the bidding would start at 10 million dollars. Over one hundred carats...rich red color...exquisite cut. Where in the world did you come from? How did that oaf Cobblepot get ahold of you without me finding out? She stared deeply into the heart of the stone, where its tiny, perfect facets focused light into a glittering, hypnotic flame... … … … A small message popped up in Selina’s field of view, a message displayed via her goggles: 12: 30 AM, DON'T FORGET BUTTON'S PILL. “What the fuck?” Selina was so shocked that she accidentally blurted the words out loud. Button was the name of one of her cats and the dumb thing had gotten into her underwear drawer and eaten a thong three nights ago. Fortunately, the vet was able to extract the ruined g-string from the cat’s stomach but he had an antibiotic regime every 6 hours until he got his stitches out. ...but it had been at least five minutes shy of midnight when she had hacked the drone network. It couldn’t have taken her more than ten minutes to get to the locker. How long had she been staring at the gemstone? Catwoman’s head snapped up, pushing confusion to the back of her mind. There was a sharp, echoing sound in the darkness. Click. Click. Tap. Click. Click. Tap. Click. Click. Tap. Footsteps. The sharp, crisp sound of finely heeled shoes on concrete. Accompanied by the lighter tap of a walking stick or cane. She didn’t know why the floor sensors weren’t sounding the alarm. It didn’t matter. The footsteps were close...whoever it was would be turning the corner any minute now. Catwoman gripped the glittering collar tightly in her left hand and cut the anchor ropes with the claws of her right. She pushed off the wall and landed with both feet on the ground...no alarm. The system had been shut off. Suddenly the industrial lights over this row of lockers snapped on with the sound of electrical relays slamming into place. She hissed as her night vision goggles were overloaded by the sudden flood of light, squeezing her eyes closed and to pull them away from her eyes and up her forehead, exposing her pale, heart-shaped face. Short, black hair peeked out from the edges of her cowl. She squinted her sharp, green eyes against the sudden brightness. Fuzzy afterimages were swimming in front of her eyes, but she could see. Still gripping her prize tightly, she fumbled at a small pouch on one leg, extracting a handful of marble-sized microbombs. They weren’t terribly dangerous weapons but they had enough bang to leave foes blinded, stunned and deafened. They weren’t her favorite gadget...they were loud, flashy and attention-grabbing. Everything a proper thief shouldn’t be. They were only useful in situations where the shit had already hit the fan...where she had already screwed up enough that tossing explosives around couldn’t make the situation any worse. Unfortunately, it looked like this was going to be one of those nights. She gripped the handful of bomblets, waiting for the person approaching to come into sight. Once she subdued them, whoever they turned out to be, she could use the anchored rope to get back to the top of the locker unit. Then from there, she’d have free reign to use her whip to swing from unit to unit and make her way to the hole she had cut through the roof and escape out into the night. The click, click, tap stopped, the footstep’s owner stopping just before turning the corner. Catwoman could see their shadow on the ground. She raised a hand, ready to throw the pellets. “You don’t want to do that, my dear.” It was a man’s voice. Cultured. Calm. It was the voice of someone raised with elocution lessons. She could smell the faint scent of cigar smoke, overwhelming the stale, dry air of the warehouse. “There won’t be any fighting today.” “You…” She growled. She lowered her hand. Why was he here? Cobblepot wasn’t the sort to fight his battles himself...but she couldn’t hear any other footsteps. His thugs might be surrounding the warehouse. She should probably make a run for it, try and get out while she still had the chance. She crouched, ready to scramble up the rope. “Now, now, my dear. I know you’re a skittish little stray, but please don’t run off before we’ve had a chance to talk.” The criminal known as the Penguin rounded the corner, his fine, highly-polished leather shoes gleaming under the overhead lights. He held his bird-headed umbrella like a cane, tapping its tip against the floor as he walked. He was dressed much like he always was...like a 1920s businessman attending an opera. Silk top hat, black jacket and bow tie, finely tailored clothes. His face split into a cruel grin when he saw her, eyes lingering on the collar she held tightly in one hand. He looked cartoonish: short, barrel-shaped body on stubby legs...his old fashioned attire...the cliched cigar clenched between his teeth. Topped off by that ridiculously long beak of a nose. Catwoman relaxed her stance, no longer poised to run, but she remained cautious. The pompous oaf might look like a political cartoon brought to life but that didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous. The squat little man in front of her had survived the cutthroat world of organized crime, rubbed shoulders with genuine lunatics like the Joker and even faced off against Batman. That took balls...and surviving it all took more than just good luck and money. “I’m not really here to chat.” Catwoman kept a careful eye on Cobblepot’s umbrella before putting on her ‘seduction face’...half-lidded eyes, lazy, relaxed smile and a coquettish tilt of the head. Men always underestimated pretty women, as though intelligence and beauty were inversely proportional. “I was just about to leave a note...I thought you might want to know about a few flaws in your security system.” “Oh my...that is kind of you.” Cobblepot raised a sardonic eyebrow, apparently more than happy to play along. He leaned forward on his umbrella. “And, if I may ask, what is that you have in your hand?” “Oh...this little thing?” Catwoman’s face was a picture of feigned innocence. She could see his eyes traveling up and down her body, lingering on the front of her catsuit, which was still half unzipped. “It just happened to catch my eye as I was testing out your locks. I thought perhaps it might be an appropriate payment for a...security consultation.” “Of course. Of course. And that jewel in the collar just so happens to be the object in my warehouse with the greatest value for its size. A charming coincidence” “Absolutely” Catwoman grinned back at him, reaching out to put the collar back in the locker. “But obviously if you don’t feel that’s fair I can just put it back and be on my way.” “Keep it.” His voice was unusually sharp and Catwoman stopped in surprise, gripping the collar tightly. Her eyes narrowed. She’d obviously never intended to return the collar...but something felt off. “Well, I’m certainly not the kind of girl who turns down a gift…” She looked around once more...there were still no signs of any guards or henchmen waiting in the wings but the bright light above her made it difficult to see the rest of the warehouse. Were there hidden snipers? “I should really be going...time to feed my cats I’m afraid.” “Ah yes, I know what a delightful burden pets can be. But don’t go just yet.” He took a few steps closer, puffing on his cigar. It occurred to Catwoman that she really shouldn’t let him get too close but something was telling her not to back away either. “Tell me, my dear. Are you familiar with the history of that particular stone?” “Well, I admit I took a peek at the auction list when I was visiting your chief of security earlier tonight. It was listed as the Bound Heart Diamond.” Catwoman’s smile was starting to feel brittle, Cobblepot didn’t seem like the sort to fall for her vamp routine. “You should be careful who you hire, I hear he might have some...unpleasant habits.” “Yes, Phillips has proven to be disappointing on many levels. He’ll be taken care of.” From the dangerous glint in his eyes, Catwoman was sure that the man was already dead. “But I’m afraid the ‘Bound Heart Diamond’ is a bit of a fiction...a rather loose translation of the jewel’s real name.” “...What’re you playing at, Cobblepot?” Catwoman dropped the act entirely, coquettish smile turning to a stern frown. She looked at the stone dangling from the collar. She was certain it was a genuine diamond but he didn’t seem the slightest bit concerned about losing it. “Nothing at all, my kitten.” He chuckled at her fierce look. “It is a lovely jewel, is it not? You should try it on.” “Don't call me kitten, Cobblepot. The diamond itself is nice, but the collar is tatty crap.” Catwoman turned the collar over in her fingers, finding the clasp at the back and undoing it. She slipped it around her neck and snapped the choker in place, allowing the diamond to dangle just above her breasts. “It fits well, but that’s the only good thing about it. The designer deserves to be shot for wasting good materials.” She looked back up at the Cobblepot, frowning and one hand on her hip (the other still holding the fistful of microbombs). He was smiling from ear to ear, a look of immense satisfaction on his round face. She waited for him to say something, but he just kept smiling at her, almost expectantly. An expression of confusion crossed her face...followed by one of dawning horror. She grabbed at her throat, at the choker she had just put on without realizing it. He was laughing now, a deep, evil chuckle. She raised her hand to toss the handful of microbombs at him...but she couldn’t move her arm to throw them. Her hand trembled in midair, explosives clenched tightly between her fingers. “Careful now, you might hurt yourself. Go ahead and put those away, my pretty little kitten.” Catwoman slipped the marble-sized explosives back into their pouch. She looked down in shock and horror at her hand...she hadn’t intended to do that. Something was going wrong. She should run. She didn’t run. She couldn’t run. It wasn’t even that her legs wouldn’t obey her...she couldn’t actually try to run. She knew she should, she wanted to. But whenever she tried to put those desires into action her mind...slipped. Desire stubbornly refused to lead to action. Cause would not become effect. Cobblepot was closer now, staring directly into her eyes with a searching expression. He nodded, apparently immensely satisfied by what he saw. “What the fuck is this, Cobblepot!?” “Please, my dear, call me Penguin. Since we’re both in character as our roguish alter egos right now, it’s only appropriate that you use my nom de theatre.” “Fuck you C-C-C...Penguin…” She trailed off, staring in disbelief at the Penguin. He took a long drag on his cigar and blew a puff of aromatic smoke into the air with a satisfied sigh. “It may sound cliche, but flawlessly executing a carefully laid plan is nearly as satisfying as making love to a beautiful woman.” The Penguin licked his lips. “Of course, I see no reason to choose.” “Penguin, I swear to God, if you don’t stop this game I will cut you up and feed your fat ass to your fucking birds!!” Catwoman’s words were venomous and she very much wanted to slice her claws across the Penguin’s smug face...but her brain simply refused to issue the command to her arms. At least she could still make threats. “I will make sure it hurts too! I may not be a fucking psycho like Two Face or the Joker, but trust me, I know how-” “You know…” The Penguin interrupted. “You should smile more.” Selina’s words sputtered to a stop as her lips suddenly pulled themselves up into a smile. Her face twisted as she struggled to form a different expression. She could grin, she could smile primly, she could smirk...but she could only smile. “That’s better.” The Penguin took another drag on his cigar. “I can see you’re confused, so why don’t you sit down and stay nice and quiet while I explain.” Catwoman knelt on the ground, looking up at the Penguin with wide, green eyes and a bright smile. She was breathing quickly, but softly, as he loomed over her. He reached out and stroked her cheek with one hand. She flinched, her smile still in place, and tried to lean out of his reach while maintaining her seated position. “Now, now. Don’t pull away.” Catwoman whimpered softly, smiling as the Penguin grabbed her by the chin and pulled her face up to look into his eyes. He blew a cloud of gray-blue smoke into her face, stinging her eyes. She wanted to say something...beg him to let her go...offer him money, favors, whatever it took. But she had to be quiet as he tilted her head this way and that, examining her face like a horse breeder purchasing a new mare. “That’s good...very good.” One of his thick fingers tucked a strand of hair back under the cowl of her catsuit. “Acquiring this gem was an incredible stroke of luck, I must admit. Well, I should say ‘gems’ shouldn’t I?” The Penguin reached into the pocket of his coat, retrieving a silver and gold pocket watch. The press of a button caused it to pop open, revealing no clock face or gear work...instead, it contained a setting for a single jewel. A blood-red diamond...twin to the one that dangled from Catwoman’s collar. “Beautiful, isn’t it? Almost as beautiful as you, my pretty little stray.” He stroked her face again, tracing the outline of her jaw with his fingertips. “I do apologize that the design of the collar is not to your liking. It’s amateur work I’m afraid, necessary to keep the existence of these jewels a secret. I know how many contacts you have among gem dealers in Gotham” The Penguin snapped the false pocket watch closed and returned it to his coat pocket. “I can’t speak to the authenticity of the myth but as I understand it, the diamonds were created by a king of antiquity who loved his wife very much, but worried that her heart had strayed to another.” The Penguin’s fingers ran down Catwoman’s neck, tracing the lines of the choker she still wore. Another small whimper escaped from her throat but she still couldn’t speak. “Very tragic, isn’t it? His love, torn apart and ruined by infidelity. Traditionally, the king would have the queen and her lover beheaded...but this king loved his wife very much...and so he had the largest diamond in his kingdom cut in two and ordered his court wizard to enchant them to prevent his wife’s heart from straying again. Or so the story goes...” The Penguin stroked a thumb across the jewel hanging from Catwoman’s collar before letting go and moving his hand lower. He was leaning forward and she could smell the scent of tobacco and a hint of whiskey on his breath. She could feel his hand moving slowly along her collarbone, exposed by her still-unzipped suit. One finger followed the line of her zipper until it reached the curve of her breast. She smiled hesitantly, shivering with revulsion as he cupped her breast, rubbing the palm of his hand over her tight, black suit. “I’m not normally one to deal in hocus-pocus and fairy tales.” The Penguin continued to grope the kneeling Catwoman as he talked. One of his fingers found the outline of her nipple beneath the fabric and idly began to stroke it until it hardened and pressed out against the black polymer fabric. She bared her teeth in a wide grin of hatred and rage. “But once I determined that the jewels worked...well I must admit a rather self-indulgent idea came to mind.” Catwoman’s eyes flicked downward, to the front of the Penguin’s pants. She could see a tell-tale bulge pressing against his expensive gray trousers. She could only shake her head, a stupid smile still plastered all over her face. He laughed. “Come now, don’t give me that look, like some blushing virgin, cornered by brutes in a dark alley.” He went down on one knee so that the two of them were eye-to-eye, one hand still holding onto the handle of his umbrella and the other sliding from her breast, down her flank and along the curve of her hip. “I know women like you, my kitten. I know what you are.” As his hand moved onto her trembling thigh he leaned in even closer. “A pretty little slut. You like the attention...like men’s eyes on you. You like to make them reach for you so that you can run or smack them with your claws. A stray cat that teases the dogs so they’ll chase you down. Hoping to be caught, just not too easily.” Catwoman could only stare into the Penguin’s eyes a small smile on her face. Her mind was racing, trying to find something she could do, some way to break this control. She had a collection of smoke bombs in a small holster underneath her left shoulder...if she could grab those without the Penguin knowing, trigger them. She couldn’t run away but if she set off the warehouse's fire alarms then maybe… “Don’t worry, my sweet little kitten!” The Penguin crooned, apparently unaware of her desperate attempt to escape. He took the zipper of her catsuit in her fingers and slowly pulled it upward until it was zipped up all the way up to the collar, just below the glittering diamond in her choker. “I’m not some common thug...a cold concrete floor is no place to enjoy ourselves.” Catwoman moved her hand slowly toward the holster, hoping the Penguin wouldn’t see...just a bit closer and she might be able to pull out the smoke bombs before he could issue a new command. Maybe once he was choking on the smoke he wouldn’t be able to give her any new orders… “Hmmm…” The Penguin’s beady eyes narrowed, glaring suspiciously down his long nose at her. Something in her face must have given her away, some glimmer of defiance behind that persistent smile. “Perhaps there’s some fire left in my little whore...even a collared kitten has claws, I suppose.” Catwoman lunged for the pouch under her arm, fingers pulling open the snap-buttons that held it shut. “Stop.” Catwoman froze before she could reach inside, all her muscles locking up at once. The momentum of her lunge and her sudden paralysis caused her to topple over. She could only lay on her side, that dumb smile still stuck on her face, looking up at the Penguin as he rose once more, puffing at that fat cigar. “From now on, you’ll only do exactly what I tell you.” The Penguin puffed out a cloud of blue-gray smoke. “Stand up.” Catwoman obediently rose to her feet, standing impassively in front of the Penguin with a gentle, blank smile on her face. “Give me a kiss, my dear.” Catwoman leaned down to plant a soft kiss on The Penguin’s cheek, leaving a slight hint of red from her dark lipstick. He chuckled again. “Come now, you can do better than that. Let’s have a proper kiss. Show me what kind of hussy you are.” He gestured with the cigar between his fingers. Catwoman leaned down once more, wrapping her arms around the Penguin’s neck and pressing their lips tightly together. She didn’t resist as his tongue parted her lips and met it with her own. He tossed the spent cigar to the side and rubbed his thick fingers over the curve of her ass, massaging it through the fabric of her suit. Their lips parted slowly and the Penguin made a rumbling noise of satisfaction. “That’s good. Very good. I think it’s time to take our tryst to the Iceberg Lounge...I want to take my time.” The Penguin’s harsh, squawking laughter echoed off the walls of Warehouse 42 as Catwoman obediently followed after him through the dark corridors. ---------------------------------------------- It was after hours at the Iceberg Lounge. The huge dining hall was dark, except for the dim lights illuminating the central pool and the massive block of ice in the center of it. Sleeping seals lounged on the ice as penguins swam in the water below. Almost forty feet above the dining hall, overlooking everything below, was the Penguin’s private office, his privacy (and security) protected by a thick window of one-way, bulletproof glass. Catwoman was staring down at the lounge through the window, barely blinking. She showed no sign of interest in the empty seats, the giant ice sculpture or the animals frolicking lazily below. When they had entered the room the Penguin had merely instructed her to take a look at the view. And so she did. While Catwoman stared impassively out the window, the Penguin hung his jacket and top hat neatly on a coat stand in the corner (after making sure to retrieve the pocket watch containing his half of the jewel). His umbrella went into a gold-plated stand nearby alongside several of its brethren, each of them equipped with deadly hidden weapons. Behind his desk was an expensive mahogany and leather chair which he sank into with a deep sigh of contentment. Admiring Catwoman’s silhouette as she stared out the window, he undid his bow tie, letting it hang loose over his shoulders and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt, exposing curly black chest hair. He was in no hurry...this moment had been a long time coming and it was something to be savored, not rushed. As his eyes ran over the slim outline of her legs and hips, his mind drifted back to the first time that he had ever dealt with the unpredictable virtuoso thief known as Catwoman. The Gotham Museum of Fine Art was hosting a display of a statue called the Jade Puffin. A beautiful, one-of-a-kind piece crafted from panels of multi-colored jade and it was exactly the sort of piece he needed for his collection of bejeweled sea birds. He wasn’t a mad obsessive like those other lunatics who stalked the Gotham underground, but he knew what he liked and he was more than willing to break a few eggs to get it. Unfortunately, stealing a priceless statue from a well-secured museum was delicate work: a job for an expert, not a handful of goons with guns. Catwoman had already made a name for herself as the best thief in Gotham, possibly one of the best in the world. So, naturally, he had summoned her to this very office, offering her a generous sum for her expert services. Back then Catwoman had been haughty and arrogant, looking down her nose at him as she demanded triple his asking price. The Penguin was a businessman at heart and no stranger to haggling, but her attitude had grated at him, especially since she did little to hide her obvious distaste for his appearance. He had, admittedly, lost his temper, and threatened to give the job to a more accommodating rogue, like the Wolf Spider or the odd pair Swindle and Vice. She had just laughed. It had been an infuriating, mocking laugh. Then she said that if he hired another thief she would just steal the Jade Puffin first and hold it beyond his reach until he paid her price. Or maybe just keep it for herself. At that point, he had to admit that he may have slightly lost his gentlemanly composure... That night had ended with several of his best henchmen put in the hospital by Catwoman and two of his finest umbrellas broken. Then the thieves he did end up hiring were caught by the damn Batman...and to top it all off, Catwoman made good on her promise and made off with the Jade Puffin under cover of the chaos. She might even have been the one to tip off the Bat. When he had returned to his office the next morning, he realized that she had used their meeting as an opportunity to case the place. He found the locks picked and his wall safe cracked. The money inside was gone and, in its place, were photos...photos of the Jade Puffin sitting on a bookshelf, holding up a row well-worn romance paperbacks. It had been infuriating beyond words...an outrageous violation that would have normally earned a bounty on her head and a slow, painful death the moment he got his hands on her. But something about her had also awoken a dark, unquenchable lust in him. That beautiful body in her skintight catsuit, the unshakable confidence, that arrogant laugh. He didn’t want to kill her...he wanted to see her on her knees in front of him. He wanted to own her far more than he had ever wanted the Jade Puffin. That night he had fucked his favorite whore so hard that she could barely walk afterward. He had thought about her every night since then, imagined her face every time he was with a woman from then on...desperately searching for some way to make her his. Now, she was here. In the very room that had echoed with her mocking laughter. And she was completely under his control. “Come here, I want to take a look at you.” As Catwoman obeyed, he picked up a tumbler glass and a crystal decanter of whiskey. He flipped open a panel, revealing a tiny refrigeration chamber, and used a small pair of tongs to retrieve two gold-plated whiskey stones and dropped them into the glass. While Catwoman waited obediently in front of his desk he poured himself a glass, relishing the rich sound of the liquid. Sipping his drink, he motioned for Catwoman to come around the desk and stand by his side. She obeyed, making him nod in satisfaction. It seemed his last command made her fully obedient, even without spoken orders. Taking another drink, he took the opportunity to take in every inch of her beauty. Those long, shapely legs...full hips...firm, round breasts...a flawless, heart-shaped face with those dark red lips and bright green eyes. Even with that blank expression and half-smile on her face, she was gorgeous. “Face of an angel, body of a whore.” The Penguin’s voice was husky from the whiskey. He waved his hand in a broad gesture. “Let’s have a show...strip for me. Leave the collar on, of course.” Catwoman dispassionately reached up and began to unzip her suit. “Not like that!” The Penguin growled and Catwoman paused, zipper halfway down her breasts. She stood, waiting for some kind of order. The Penguin drained his drink and slammed the tumbler down on the desk, making the metal whiskey stones clink and clatter. “Stupid bitch, I didn’t say undress! I said strip! I know a slut like you knows how to do it, so put on a show.” That command seemed to do the trick. Although her eyes were still blank her face took on a more sultry, seductive cast and her posture softened from ramrod straight to something slinkier and sexier. She reached up and pulled off her goggles, placing them on the desk. She then reached up and pulled back her cat-eared cowl, letting her short-cut black hair tumble free. She ran her hands through her hair, rolling her neck slowly from side to side. “That’s better…” The penguin leaned back into the cushioned chair and poured himself a second drink. “Much better.” Catwoman leaned forward, running her hands up and down her body while giving the Penguin a leisurely glimpse of her cleavage from her partially unzipped suit. She pulled the zipper down...down...down. The zipper went all the way down the front of her catsuit, first past her breasts and ribs...then down past her belly button...then even further, stopping just shy of baring her pussy. Even unzipped, the suit still clung tightly to her curves, barely covering the tips of her breasts and only exposing a tantalizing hint of stubble from her shaven pubic hair. She leaned in closer to the Penguin, her bare skin a few tantalizing inches from his nose. He inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of whiskey, perfume and the hint of sweat beneath. He toyed with the idea of reaching out, shoving his fingers down past the zipper to grope between her legs. But there was no need to rush and he instead chose to stroke his fingers over the rising bulge against the front of his pants. “That’s right...there is no greater spice than anticipation. Deep down, I’m sure you’re just as eager...I’d wager you can’t wait to touch my cock. Taste it. Feel it inside you.” Catwoman continued her striptease, slowly pulling off one glove and tossing it into a corner, followed by the other. She pushed the Penguin’s chair back and turned it until he was facing his desk. Hopping up to sit on the desk in front of him, she lifted one long leg until her heel was on the headrest. She ran her hands slowly along the length of her thigh, snapping off straps that held pouches and gadgets and tossing them aside one by one. Finally, she was bent forward, sultry, unfocused eyes locked on the Penguin’s face while her fingers tugged at the laces of her boot. She pulled them loose and tossed the boot aside. She let her bare foot trail its way down from the headrest, past the Penguin’s grinning face, brushing against his arm and coming to a stop on the armrest of the chair. Then she repeated her show with the other leg: tossing aside her gear and equipment, unlacing her boot and resting her foot on the opposite armrest. “You’ve done this before haven’t you, my kitten?” The Penguin leaned back between Catwoman’s spread legs, enjoying the view as he continued to rub his erection through the material of his pants. “Keep going. Let’s see what a slutty little alley cat you are.” Catwoman leaned back until she was laying on her arched back, splayed over the Penguin’s desk with her legs still spread. Her movements were sinuous and slow as she turned over, letting her legs arc over the Penguin’s head as she rolled over onto her stomach. The Penguin’s desk was huge and she could easily lay across it. The Penguin let out a husky, rumbling chuckle as Catwoman pulled herself up on all fours, the tight, shining material of her suit hugging the curve of her rear. “Exquisite. That ass is perfect, a sculpture to rival every piece of art in my collection.” Catwoman stretched languidly, stretching the material even tauter, before rising to her feet. Her back was still to the penguin as she raised her hands above her head, hips swaying from side to side. The Penguin downed the rest of his second drink as she moved her hands down and slowly began to peel her costume off. She took her time, baring one shoulder, then another, before pulling her arms out of the long sleeves. The suit fell open to her waist, exposing the creamy arc of her back and the slightest hint of her breasts visible from behind. She looked over her shoulder, staring down at the diminutive crime boss as he grinned up at her. “Glorious, my horny little kitten, simply glorious! I’m going to desecrate you, plunder your tight little cunt like Genghis Khan looted Asia. I do hope you’re looking forward to it as much as I am.” Catwoman didn’t respond, she merely continued her dance...slowly, inch-by-inch peeling the suit down her waist. As it reached her hips she curved her back, legs spread on the desktop, to shove her ass out as she pulled the costume slowly downward. The black, clinging fabric peeled away from the smooth, pale curve of her asscheeks. Past her thighs now, the Penguin could see the dark outline of her labia against the dim light from the giant office window. Catwoman finally kicked off her costume and turned to face the penguin, gloriously naked and still writhing and twisting sensually. Her hands slid up and down her nude body, pushing her full breasts together, stroking her thighs, slipping between her legs. The Penguin could see her nipples were standing firmly erect from the chill air of the Iceberg Lounge. She stepped gracefully down from the top of the desk, standing in front of the Penguin’s chair. Leaning forward, she placed her hands on the headrest of his chair, letting her breasts hang right in front of his eyes. He couldn’t hold back, tilting his head up and grabbing her tightly around her waist. He pulled her closer and nuzzled her breasts, his long nose and round jowls stroking roughly against the firm, soft skin. His lips found the hard, round nub of her nipple and he began to lick and suck it. Catwoman waited obediently and silently as he suckled at her tit, closing his lips completely around the areola and slurping vigorously. As he took as much of her breast into his mouth as he could he lapped at the hard nipple, flicking at it with the tip of his tongue. He was disappointed that she remained silent and stoic, neither resisting nor encouraging him as he sucked harder. Not even the slightest whimper of pleasure or shiver of sensation. He pulled her closer, letting his teeth nip her flesh...but still, there was no reaction. Dissatisfied, he pushed her back. “It’s time for you to put that mouth to use.” He patted the front of his trousers. “Suck my cock.” Obedient and silent, Catwoman knelt in front of the Penguin and brusquely unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. She pulled down the striped boxers he wore beneath, revealing his hard cock. For his size, the Penguin was well-endowed...lengthwise he was no better than average but he had nearly twice the girth of a typical man with a wide, blunt head, not unlike a stout fire hydrant. He was used to expressions of pleased surprise from the women he normally shared his bed with. Catwoman said nothing and merely opened her mouth wide and clamped her lips around the tip. She began to suck...merely to suck. Not movement of her head, no attention with her tongue or fingers...she merely sucked the tip of his prick like it was a straw in a milkshake. “Bah!” The Penguin grabbed her by the hair, pulling her head back and causing his cock to pop free of her mouth with a loud pop. “What the fuck is wrong with you, you bitch? I know you’ve sucked a cock before, whore, so why aren’t you doing it properly?! Catwoman just stared at him, eyes blank and mouth still hanging slightly open. The heart-shaped diamond dangling from her choker shimmered with inner crimson fire. “Hmm…” Then Penguin reached into his pocket and retrieved the false watch containing the heart-shaped jewel. It seemed that its control was sometimes too absolute. Or perhaps this was her weak way of showing defiance, following his orders as literally and robotically as possible. The Penguin’s grim expression cracked into a wide, satisfied smile as something new occurred to him. He opened a drawer in the desk and placed the watch inside. He had tested the gem’s powers thoroughly and learned that he didn’t have the watch on his person in order to use its power once the link was established. He closed the drawer, listening for the electronic buzz of the electromagnetic fingerprint lock engaging, before turning back to the still-silent Catwoman. “It seems like I’ve been overly blunt in my methods, my kitten.” He gripped her chin gently in one thick-fingered hand, rubbing his thumb softly over her full, red lips. “But don’t worry, I know precisely how to remedy the situation.” He leaned closer, speaking low and quiet. “You will not merely obey me...you desire me. My touch and voice will be more exciting than any lover you’ve ever had. You want nothing more than to please me.” Catwoman shivered, a small wordless noise escaping her open lips. Then her blank eyes focused one the Penguin’s face, her expression softening. He stroked her lip once more and this time she responded to his touch, wrapping her lips around his thumb and sucking gently while staring into his eyes with her own half-lidded ones. “That’s much better, much better, my kitten.” The Penguin’s smile grew wider and he gently pulled his finger free. “Tell me...what do you want?” “I…” Catwoman’s voice was breathy and rich, “I want...I want your fat fucking cock in my mouth.” “That’s what I thought.” The Penguin leaned back, stroking his fingers along the length of his cock. “So, what are you waiting for? Get that filthy mouth of yours to work.” Catwoman pulled his boxers and pants down further, baring his thick, hairy thighs, her movements hurried and eager rather than robotic. She wrapped on hand around his cock and cupped his balls with the other. Leaning in, she ran her tongue lovingly over his scrotum and then slowly up the shaft of his cock until she finally reached the squat, blunt tip. With an eager, hungry groan she took him into her mouth, letting the wide head rub against her soft, wet tongue as she pushed her head down. “That’s right. I want you to take the whole thing, like the horny little stray you are.” Her only response was an incoherent murmur as her jaw strained to accept the girth of his cock. She gamely continued, shoving his thick, meaty shaft deep into her throat until her lips were wrapped tightly around the base, leaving her nose buried in his wiry thatch of pubic hair. “Yessssss…” The Penguin hissed in pleasure, putting his hand on the back of her head, although there was no need to hold her in place as she enthusiastically deep-throated him. “I knew you were a whore but this…aaaah...this is exceptional. Why bother stealing when you could make so much more with a mouth like that?” Finally, Catwoman pulled back, gasping for air and leaving a ring of deep-red lipstick circling the base of the Penguin’s cock. She was panting, causing her warm breasts to heave against his bare thighs but she barely gave herself a moment to catch her breath before she pounced back on him, enthusiastically kissing, sucking and licking at his hard shaft. As soon as her panting subsided she wrapped her lips around him once again, bobbing up and down on his cock, tongue stroking up and down the thick central column that ran from his balls to his perineum. “What do you think, my kitten?” “Aaah…” She gasped, circling her tongue around the tip and barely giving herself time to talk. “I love it...I just want to-mmmmmmggh” Her words slurred to incoherence as he pressed her head forward and she buried her face in his balls, licking and sucking at his testicles eagerly. “Fuuuuck.” The Penguin groaned as Catwoman sucked his balls into her mouth, stroking them with her soft tongue. “I’m about to cum and I...mm...I had better not see a speck of it on your pretty skin.” Catwoman pumped his cock with her hand, popping his balls out of her mouth, “I won’t spill a drop. I want it all.” Still pumping with her fingers, she shoved his sturdy cock into her mouth, letting the tip rub against the back of her tongue. The Penguin came quickly, spurting cum directly down her throat. The Penguin rolled his head back, gripping the arms of his chair as Catwoman’s lips remained locked around his cock. With her free hand, she gently squeezed his testicles, throat visibly working as the Penguin continued to squirt jets of cum into her mouth and she obediently drank it down. Even when he relaxed, she kept his softening cock in her mouth and continued suckling at it, coaxing every drop from it. “That’s the way, my little kitten...swallow it all. Every fucking drop.” With her mouth full Catwoman could only respond with a muffled moan, followed by an audible gulp as she swallowed the last mouthful. When she finally pulled away the smeared ring of lipstick around the base of his cock was much thicker. She licked his half-hard shaft, carefully cleaning his dick and still pumping vigorously to try and bring it back to full mast. “That’s not fair…” Her voice was a pouting whine as she tried to revive his erection. “I want more, I want more of your thick dick. Please don’t leave me like this.” “You really are nothing more than an alley cat in heat, aren’t you?” The Penguin grabbed her right bicep and pulled her to her feet. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you exactly what you’re begging for, the fucking you deserve.” “Oh, yes. Please, please fuck me.” Catwoman whined plaintively, she was half-kneeling and rocking her hips back and forth to rub her pussy against one of the Penguin’s bare, hairy thighs. “Such an impatient little slut.” The Penguin wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her closer while she continued rolling her hips against his leg. “I’ll fuck you, but I’ll do it when and how I please.” Her only response was a delighted giggle as he buried his face between her breasts, his long nose poking between them as he licked and kissed the soft, sweat-kissed skin. His lips found her nipple again and this time when he sucked at it she pressed herself closer, cooing in delight. When he sucked harder she moaned out loud, grabbing the back of his head and pressing him tight to her chest. While he licked and sucked her right breast, his left hand groped the other tit, blunt fingers clutching tightly to her firm curves. Catwoman’s breasts were practically flawless, large enough to completely fill his hand and almost a perfect dome. They were full enough to bury his face and fingers into but firm enough to stay perky and smooth. She purred as he twirled his finger and tongue around her nipples, teasing them with occasional tugs or soft bites. “Let’s see if you’re as enthusiastic as you say, my horny kitten.” The Penguin chuckled as he pulled his mouth back, although he continued to fondle her other breast with his left hand, relishing the pressure of her firm nipple against his palm. He slid his other hand up her thigh until his fingertips rested along the side. Despite his short stature, his hands were large and wide, allowing him to press his fingertips into the side of her thigh while his thumb stroked against the soft skin of her pubic mound. The hair of her pussy was neatly shaven with only the slightest hint of stubble providing a delightful texture to explore. “Don’t tease me like this. I need you inside me, please, please fuck me.” Catwoman started to fumble at the buttons of his dress shirt, her lust making her normally nimble fingers clumsy. The Penguin slipped his fingers over the curve of her thigh and between her legs. Her skin was hot, he could feel the warmth radiating from her pussy before his fingers even touched it. When they did, he found her to be incredibly wet and receptive, his fingers sinking immediately into the eager, slick lips. She whimpered, pressing her hips against his hand and pushing his fingers deeper inside. “I said, be patient!” The Penguin growled although he felt only amusement at her transformation. His mind drifted back to that disastrous meeting they’d had in this office so many years ago. That look of disgust on her face. The arrogance in her words. That laugh. She wasn't laughing at him now. She was writhing and mewling on his lap, his fingers buried in her moist, eager pussy. This was his sweetest victory. Catwoman whined in disappointment when he pulled his hand free. She grabbed his wrist, pouting and trying to gently pull his hand back between her legs. “Don’t stop now! I want to come, please!” The Penguin ignored her, pulling his arm from her grip and grabbed her by the waist. He grunted as he lifted her up, plopping her bare ass onto his desk. “Whiny little slut.” He pushed her legs apart, admiring the glistening, puffy lips of her bare pussy. “Your cunt is mine and I’m going to fuck it when and how I like.” Catwoman was biting her lip, looking down at him with wide, pleading eyes. She started to thrust her hips slightly, pushing her legs a bit more open each time. “I promise I’ll be good, I promise, just don’t leave me like aaaaaaaaaannnggh…” Her words trailed off into a groan of pleasure as he slipped his fingers inside once more. His index and middle finger slipped in just as easily as before, well past the second knuckle. He began to slide them slightly in and out and, with each push, he could feel her eager pussy clenching around his knuckles. Her clitoris was easily visible, a swollen pink nub peeking between the wet lips of her pussy. As his fingers went deeper, he pressed his thumb against it. “Oh God, it feels so good...harder! Please go harder!” “Hmph.” The Penguin ignored her request, keeping his force and speed steady as he plunged his fingers in and out, thumb rubbing up and down the sensitive button of her clit. “I know what I’m doing, kitten. I know just what that sweet little cunt needs.” Catwoman’s hips continued to rock, pushing the Penguin’s fingers in deeper. He shifted his grip slightly, holding his hands like he was rubbing a bolt of cloth between his thumb and forefingers. He kept his thumb pressed tightly against her clit while his first two fingers began to gently circle the soft ridges of her G-spot. It didn’t take long to bring her off, her pleading to go faster and harder dissolving into panting and then into a rising, plaintive moan. Her thighs trembled and the firm muscles of her stomach rippled as the orgasm rippled through her body. The Penguin licked his lips in satisfaction as he felt her body clenching tightly around his fingers, trying to draw them further inside. He kept his fingers firm, maintaining that same steady pattern around her trembling G-spot. Before the first tremors of orgasm faded, her second orgasm caught her, then another. She fell onto her back on the desk, legs spread wide as he continued to coax more pleasure from her body. Grinning smugly, the Penguin finally retracted his hand, allowing Catwoman to catch her breath. She was covered in beads of sweat and panting heavily from the repeated waves of ecstasy, breasts heaving delightfully in front of him. “Don’t think you’re done yet, my kitten. I’ve got exactly what you’ve been begging for right here.” His cock was hard again as he got to his feet, stripping off his shirt and pants completely. Catwoman started to rise up onto her elbows but he pushed her down onto her back. “First, I want to hear you ask for it.” “Please, Penguin. I want some more.” “What is it you want, you slutty little alley cat?” “I want your cock. Please fuck me. Please!” He grabbed her by her hips and, with a quick surge of motion, flipped her over onto her stomach. He pulled her back towards him until her long legs were dangling over the edge of the desk, her ass and pussy at the perfect height for his stature. He slid one finger along the dripping lips of her pussy, slapping her ass with his other hand. She yelped and he felt her pussy quiver against his fingers at the feeling of his palm against her ass and his cock grew harder, twitching eagerly. “That’s what I thought. You’re nothing but a horny cunt waiting to be fucked, aren’t you?” “That’s right. I just want you to fill me up!” “Well, that’s the question isn’t it?” He rubbed his cock with one hand, moistening it with Catwoman’s pussy-juice, and reached into a drawer of his desk with his other hand. “What? Penguin, don’t tease me again!” Catwoman stretched her tiptoes out, pushing against the ground to lift her ass and pussy into the air as she bent over his desk. “Shush, my little alley cat. I have a question for you. I am ordering you to answer this question truthfully and honestly, free of any compulsion.” He tossed the item he had retrieved from his desk onto the wood in front of Catwoman’s face. It was a strip of condoms. “Tell me...would you rather I wear one of these...or fuck you raw?” There was a moment of hesitation as Catwoman trembled on the desk in front of him, her eyes fixed on the condoms. “I said, answer me! Honestly. What. Do. You. Want.” Her lipstick-smeared mouth worked for several seconds before a quiet little voice broke free of her lips. “...raw…” The wide, blunt tip of the Penguin’s fat cock rubbed against the wet, trembling lips of Catwoman’s pussy. “Louder, bitch! What do you want?!” “I want you to fuck me raw!!” Selina screamed. She screamed again, this time in joy, as the Penguin slammed his cock into her pussy from behind. He stood at his full height behind the desk, drawing back his hips like a gun being cocked before slamming them forward back into Selina Kyle’s eager slit. “Tell me what you’re thinking right now!” He snarled, grabbing her waist to keep his vigorous thrusts from sending her tumbling off the front of the table. “I...uuunfh…” Selina was interrupted as he almost knocked the breath out of her with his intensity. She gripped the edges of the desk with white knuckles. “All I can t-think about...is how good your cock...aannggh...feels inside my pussy.” “That’s right. You like this, don’t you, slut?” He could feel her body answering for her, her pussy clenching tightly, sucking him deeper inside. “Tell me!” “Yes!” She half-growled, half groaned. “Oh God…I love it! I’ve never been fucked like this. It’s amazing!” He could see her translucent reflection in the window opposite his desk. Her breasts were pressed together as she lay on the desk, her head was hanging forward and bobbing with each thrust of his hips. The crimson fire of the gemstone that dangled from her choker flickered and flashed with each motion. Her mouth was open, panting with need and exhaustion, her eyes were half-lidded and he could barely make out a hint of green as her irises rolled back into her head. Pulling back further on her waist he yanked her off the desk entirely. Together, his cock still buried deep into her, they collapsed into his oversized chair. She writhed in his lap, her own weight pushing him even further inside her and his thick, hefty shaft stretching her pussy. She was riding him now, lifting herself up slightly before pushing back down onto his shaft, moaning wordlessly with pleasure. He was breathing heavily now too, groping at her breasts with his thick fingered hands. His breath was hot on her neck, his long nose brushing against her ear. “Now, my kitten. I want you to tell me exactly what you think about me, you whore.” “I...ah! I h-hate you! I hate you...uuuuaaah...so fucking much, Penguin!” Selina could barely speak around the gasps and groans of pleasure. "I want...I want to fucking kill you!" “But do you still want me to keep fucking you, my kitten?” “YES!” Selina’s voice was full of lust and shame and hunger. “I want you to keep fucking me! I want you to fuck me harder!” “Your wish is my command, my little kitten.” As Catwoman ground her hips onto the Penguin’s thick cock, he reached around her slender waist. His fingers slid between her legs and he found that wet, sensitive nub of her clit. He pressed it between two of his fingers, forcing it tighter against the thick shaft of his cock as he slid in and out of her body. Catwoman arched like a bow, the back of her head rubbing against the Penguin’s bald pate and her breasts pressing against his groping left hand. His fingers found one of her nipples and he pinched, tugging it away from the perfect, sweat-dappled curve of her breast. She let out another ecstatic scream, her voice echoing off the walls of his office. He felt her coming, tight, wet walls of her pussy rippling against his dick. She stopped her up and down movement and pressed as hard as she could, pushing him as deep inside her as possible. He was coming too, the pleasant, hot tightness of his balls as his cock began to jerk and twitch inside of Catwoman’s slick eager channel. He groaned in satisfaction as he came, his cock squirting jets of cum deep into Catwoman’s unprotected pussy. He held her there, on top of him, hips jerking as he let the tremors of her pussy milk every drop of cum from his balls, filling her pussy with his semen. Finally, the two collapsed onto the chair, The Penguin’s softening cock sliding out of Catwoman’s slit. Most of his cum had been sucked eagerly into her body by the contractions of her orgasm but there was still a trickle of white fluid from her conquered pussy. After several minutes spent slowly regaining their breath, Catwoman turned her body slightly, almost curling onto his lap. Her fingers gently pawed at the thick thatch of black chest hair as she looked up into his eyes. They were still somewhat unfocused, fogged by exhausted pleasure and the effect of the gem that still glittered in her collar. But he could see a question behind them, a hint of her original self. What now? He raised one hand and stroked her perfect face, her short black hair plastered to her forehead by sweat. He rubbed his thumb over her lips again and it came away red from the smeared lipstick. The Penguin dropped his hand to her throat, toying with the gemstone on her choker. “Don’t worry, my little kitten.” He smiled. That same wide, cruel grin. “I have no intention of squandering a gift like you. We’ll have many nights like this to come…”