The Bird Catches The Cat Pt. 02

Her other hand slid between her legs. Despite Bruce's best efforts, she was already wet and eager. It had been several nights since they'd made love...he was always out on patrol...or planning his next patrol...or recovering from injuries sustained during his last patrol. Dating a superhero had been more difficult than she had anticipated. Sometimes it seemed like they had seen more of one another when he had been foiling her crimes than they did now that they were a couple.

Those bitter thoughts slowly dissolved as she worked her fingers around her damp clit and ran her tongue across her lips, tinted dark red by her lipstick. She leaned in and brushed her cheek against the hard length of his cock, turning her head to run her lips lightly along his shaft. She slowly moved her way up his cock, teasing with tiny kisses until she reached the tip.

God, I needed this so badly...I feel like I'm about to come just from sucking him off.

Her lips were just starting to close around the tip when Bruce's entire body jerked, straining against the handcuffs. At first, she thought he was just getting into the blowjob, but then he spoke.

"Selina!" His voice was tense. The stern growl of Batman replacing the laconic, cultured drawl of Bruce Wayne. "I need to go!"

She followed his gaze to the window and her heart fell. The cloud cover was thin and wispy but the beam of light shining against it cast a clear, distinct image. A bright spotlight with the emblem of the bat in its center.

"No!" She sat up, crossing her arms over her breasts and glaring down at him. "No, you said you'd take the night off! This was supposed to be our night!"

"I said I wouldn't go on patrol, this is different!" The voice of Bruce Wayne was completely subsumed, replaced by the harsher tones of the dark knight. He was still naked but spiritually he was already in his costume...driven by the role he had chosen. "The city needs me! Get the keys and unlock these things!"

She turned her back to him, tears stinging her eyes beneath the lenses of her cowl. She knew she was being unreasonable...knowing Gotham, people might be dying right now. Two-Face or Scarecrow or the Joker might be preparing to use the citizens of the city as pawns in some kind of bizarre murder game. But she couldn't help but feel jealous that Bruce was being taken away from her. Again.

"Not going to happen." She pouted. "You are going to stay cuffed to that bed until we have a good, long f-"

"Fine." His voice was terse. There was the sound of clinking metal and a pair of rapid snaps. The pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs sailed past her and clattered onto the floor. "I don't need keys. Just get out of my way."

She watched helplessly as he popped open the cuffs on his feet and strode across the room, not bothering to don a robe or pants. His real outfit would be waiting for him downstairs. Touching a panel on the wall caused an antique dresser to slide away, revealing one of the mansion's many entrances to the Batcave.

"I'll see you when I get back." He didn't look back at her but his voice was slightly softened. A hint of Bruce Wayne creeping back in.

"Maybe..." She muttered...but he had already gone, stepping into the concealed elevator and whisked away into the depths underneath the manor. She was alone in the bedroom, a frustrated, throbbing feeling between her thighs as she wondered how long it would be before they had another chance like this.

With a sigh, she rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling as she pondered what had brought her to this situation...or she would have if she could remember.

That yawning gap in her memories was the reason she had given up her life of crime. She had dim memories in mid-October...something about an auction...a hazy recollection of the thrill she received when preparing for a theft...and then nothing.

The next thing she knew, she was on an ice-slick rooftop above Gotham City with Batman...Bruce...standing over her. The fiery reds and oranges of trees in fall were replaced by bare branches...the crisp autumn air had turned frigid and the pumpkins and jack-o-lanterns were now Christmas wreaths and ornaments. Once she had regained her faculties, Bruce had told her that she had apparently been working with the Penguin. Some kind of mind control.

The experience had left her shaken. Fortunately, the Penguin hadn't seemed interested in unearthing her personal life...her hidden bank accounts and safehouses were untouched...and her neighbor had noticed her cats weren't being fed and took them in. But it was still disturbing. One mistake, a mistake that she couldn't even remember, and suddenly months of her life were just...gone.

It was enough to make her consider an early retirement. She had convinced herself it was only temporary but she hadn't left Wayne manor in weeks, let alone considered stealing so much as a candy bar. Tonight was the first time she had even put on her cowl in over three months. She and Bruce had always had...chemistry...and despite his denseness, he seemed to sense how shaken she was by the whole thing. He had been accommodating, giving her a place she could feel safe. And it hadn't taken long for their relationship to turn more physical and before long they were practically married.

Which was probably the problem. If they were just costumed criminals with benefits then she probably wouldn't care how often he went haring out into the Gotham nights. But now...it felt like abandonment. It felt lonely. For a while, their budding relationship kept him at home more often, only donning the cowl when the Bat-Signal lit up the sky. But it had been only a temporary distraction...he began going out on patrols again...and then he was out more nights than he was in. She had managed to briefly distract him from his crusade but the city just wouldn't let him go.

With a sigh, she rolled off the bed and headed towards the bathroom, planning to take a shower and jill herself off in order to forget about tonight's frustration. Her hand was only inches away from the bathroom's lightswitch when she froze in place, a chill running down her spine. She looked around, uncertain if she had really heard something or if she was just imagining things.

Selina Kyle

It was clearer that time, undeniable. Her name drifted through her mind, bypassing her eardrums entirely and simply appearing inside her head. There was no voice, no pitch or timbre to identify its owner...but it was still undeniably familiar. She spun around, ready to run or fight.

Selina Kyle

Her name echoed through her mind once more. Her pupils dilated, her battle-ready posture relaxing as the silent words brushed aside her fear. It brought to mind the feeling of having her hair brushed by someone else...a tingling sensation of relaxation and smoothness but on the inside of her skull.

Selina Kyle

Her eyes were vacant now as she struggled to remember why the voice was so familiar...

*******

In a somewhat less opulent and old-fashioned bedroom, Oswald Cobblepot looked up from his writing desk when he heard a faint, scratching noise at the window behind him. So faint that he likely wouldn't have heard it at all unless he was waiting for just such a noise.

"You can come right in, my dear." He rose to his feet, setting down the note he had been writing. He began to un-knot his bow tie. "The window isn't locked and I've disabled the security system."

His back still to the window, he tossed his bow tie onto the desk and undid the first two buttons on his white dress shirt (his black jacket having already been sent for cleaning), revealing curly black and gray chest hairs. Behind him, he could hear the click of the window opening and the soft sound of well-oiled hinges being slowly swung open. He grinned triumphantly and unconsciously patted his pants pocket, confirming that his pocket watch was in place.

"I'm so glad you could find the place." He picked up a smoldering cigar from the ashtray on the desk and took a long drag, savoring the aroma for a moment before blowing the smoke towards the ceiling. "I was worried you had forgotten all about me."

"I know who you are, Penguin." The silky voice caused Cobblepot's grin to widen. She was trying to sound contemptuous and tough but he could hear the uncertainty in her voice.

He turned around and raised an eyebrow when he saw how Selina Kyle was dressed. She had her cowl on, but in place of her usual skintight costume, she was wearing what looked like a man's heavy trench coat, with her whip serving as an impromptu belt. The long coat nearly brushed the floor but as she climbed down from the window sill the coat parted enough to show a flash of her long legs, clad only in sheer, black stockings. The way she tightly gripped the coat's lapels indicated she was likely wearing very little underneath.

His satisfaction turned sour when his eyes landed on the monogrammed initials on the shoulder of the coat: BW.

Wayne.

Kuttler's information was correct, apparently. His eyes narrowed at the thought of his kitten being pawed and petted by the dumb, clumsy hands of that vapid playboy. His jaw tightened and he could taste the bitter flavor of dried tobacco as his teeth tore through the tough paper of his cigar. He tossed the ruined stub into the ice-bucket where a bottle of champagne sat chilling. If all she had wanted was to attach herself to a wealthy man, like a common gold-digger, then why run off in the first place?

Selina seemed to sense some of Cobblepot's irritation because she took an involuntary step back. For a moment, it looked like she might try and run, escape back into the night.

"Selina Kyle." He placed his palm in his pocket, stroking his fingers over the watch and forced a smile to his lips as he rolled her name slowly off of his tongue. "I am so happy to see you back again...although I'm surprised by your choice of outfit. It looks a tad...drafty."

The sound of her name had an immediate effect on Selina. She swayed slightly from side to side and her eyes became foggy and half-lidded under the lenses of her cowl.

"I..." She started to speak, looking down at how she was dressed...trying to understand why she had chosen to race across the rooftops of Gotham city dressed like this. Before she and Bruce had started their roleplaying session she had put most of her clothes down the laundry chute for that stick-in-the-mud butler to take care of, leaving her with nothing but the stockings and lingerie she had been wearing.

Bruce's clothes were all ridiculously large on her slender frame so that left her no option but to cover herself as best she could with the trenchcoat and venture out. But...but why did she feel like she had to come here...?

"Don't worry about it, my kitten." Cobblepot approached her, one hand in his pocket. Some part of her felt like it wouldn't be wise to let him get too close...but she didn't want to seem frightened so she stood her ground as he approached, eyeing her appreciatively. "I'm just so happy you could make it to our little reunion tonight."

"I'm not here for a reunion, Penguin." She snapped. Or at least, she had meant to. Her voice came out flatter and softer than she had intended. "I'm here because...because..."

"Oh?" Cobblepot smiled, stepping around her to close the window and draw the curtains. She made no move to stop him, her mouth still working soundlessly as she tried to put the cause for her actions into words. "Please go on my dear Selina...what brought you here tonight."

"You did something to me..." Something startling and revelatory flashed into her mind but it was gone just as quickly, like a brightly colored fish darting through dark waters. "...last year. You did something to me...I'm here to find out what."

"Are you sure about that?" Cobblepot walked up behind her and placed his hand on the small of her back. There was a tremble up her spine as he did so, but she made no move to pull away. "Maybe...there's something else bothering you, my kitten?"

"No...I mean, maybe..." The thought of her interrupted night with Bruce floated up from the foggy depths of her mind. She was suddenly aware that she was wearing only flimsy black lingerie beneath her heavy trench coat and she couldn't help but notice a faint, lingering ache between her legs, the smoldering embers of frustrated desire. "That...that isn't why I'm here...I think."

"It's alright, my kitten." With gentle pressure, the Penguin guided her towards the large, luxurious bed at the far end of the room. It was a circular waterbed with black and white silk sheets. Selina, eyes heavy and unfocused, didn't resist and even obediently sat down on the edge of the bed without prompting. "It's that idiot Wayne, isn't it? He's not meeting your needs, I wager."

Selina looked up at Cobblepot with a vaguely quizzical expression, widening her vacant eyes in mild surprise. How had he known about Bruce? How did he know that they were having problems? She looked down at the sheets, running her fingers over them and feeling the gentle give of the waterbed. Why did this bed feel so familiar?

"Focus, my little runaway." The Cobblepot snapped his fingers, his thick knuckles making a sound like a gunshot, and Selina's head snapped back up at attention, gazing into his eyes. "What do you want? Tell me...or better yet, show me."

Selina bit her lips, uncertain. She felt like she could almost remember the months she had lost the year before...a vague cloud of sensations and desires. It pulled at her, a strange, unnatural yearning, but she still hesitated.

"Selina Kyle." Cobblepot's eyes were still locked with hers and although his voice was quiet she could feel the sound of her name echoing through her body. Brushing over her skin. Vibrating along every nerve and vein. Even her bones trembled at the feeling of her name in his mouth. "Show me."

Before she could process her own response she was on her feet, looking down at Cobblepot as he smiled triumphantly up at her. Her hands were on her makeshift belt, unwinding her whip from around her waist.

This is fine. She told herself, coming up with justifications half a second after every action she took. Bruce doesn't appreciate me...he doesn't deserve me...maybe he's due a little payback.

She tossed the whip aside and slowly opened the beige trench coat, letting it fall down her arms until it lay in a crumpled heap on the floor. For a moment she just stood there, allowing Cobblepot to run his eyes up and down her body. He made an appreciative rumble in his throat as he took in her black bra and matching panties, the sheer stockings that ran all the way up to mid-thigh and the black high-heels she had donned before leaving the manor.

"Selina...my little alley cat...it's so good to have you back where you belong." He bent down and picked up the crumpled trench coat, sneering at the Wayne monogram as he tossed it to one side. "I'll have that burned. Now that you're back, there's no need to think about that insipid dolt Wayne ever again."

Selina nodded, absent-mindedly brushing strands of her short black hair behind her ear. Why bother with Bruce anymore...why stay with someone who'd rather lurk on rainswept rooftops than share her bed? Cobblepot placed one of his meaty hands on her shoulder, reaching up slightly to make up for the difference in height. His grip was tight. Possessive.

She reached out, running her hand along the fabric of Cobblepot's shirt. Her hand drifted along his shoulder, then down to his stout, barrel chest. With an expression of need and hunger, she began to unbutton his white shirt but Cobblepot suddenly pulled back, snatching both her hands in his. His grip on her wrists was almost painful and she could see a hint of wicked spite in his eyes.

"You're in a hurry, aren't you? Is my sweet little kitten in heat?"

Selina was dizzy and lightheaded as he pulled her closer, his scent filling her head: a thick musk of tobacco smoke, alcohol, cologne and a hint of sweat. The scent was so deeply familiar but the only memories it triggered were vague, flitting shadows in the dim corners of her mind. But her body was responding, her legs trembling as that smell filled her lungs. Her stomach felt tight, trembling as her face and chest heated with desire. There was no use denying it now. This wasn't just about petty revenge on Bruce...she wanted Cobblepot.

"That's what I thought." He responded to her unspoken thought, his beady eyes were looking right through her. "But that isn't enough...you'll have to ask for it."

"I..." She trailed off, looking at the floor. Her body was screaming for it but her mind was still conflicted. Bruce's face flashed through her mind. Should she really be doing this?

"Say it, Selina Kyle."

"I want you." Her response was immediate, free of any hesitation. Bruce's face faded from her thoughts.

"Now, now, my kitten." Cobblepot shook his head. "You can't run off for months and behave like this. Tell me exactly what you want."

"I...want you to fuck me. I want you to lay me down on that bed and fuck my cunt with your..." There was a moment of hesitation where she tried to stop but the words burst out of her lips, almost against her will. "...With your hard, fat cock. I want you to fuck my brains out. I want to feel you come inside me and fill me up. I want--mmpph."

The words were spilling out of her until Cobblepot released her wrists and pulled her head down, pressing their lips together, claiming them forcefully. As his tongue met hers she tasted the heady mix of alcohol and cigars, making her knees weak as she returned the kiss enthusiastically. Her fingers kneaded the cloth of his shirt. Cobblepot's other hand slid around the small of her back, pulling her waist against him. She could feel the hot, firm bulge through the front of his pants, their height difference causing it to press directly against the growing wetness on the front of her panties and the overstimulated, throbbing heat beneath the fabric.

His hand crept lower until it was cupping the smooth curve of her ass, barely hidden by the sheer black fabric of her lingerie. He gave it an appreciative squeeze as he slid lower, slipping his fingers into the gap between the back of her thighs. His thick, blunt fingertips rubbed against the silky fabric of her panties, slipping the material between the wet lips of her pussy and catching her clitoris between his probing fingers and the hard lump pressing against the fabric of his pants. She groaned in pleasure, the sound muffled by his mouth still pressed tightly to hers. She sucked and licked eagerly at the tip of his tongue until he slowly pulled back for a breath.

They were both breathing heavily now, her breasts heaving wonderfully against his chin. Feeling self-indulgent, he leaned forward and buried his face between them, rubbing against the silk of her bra and the warmth of her skin. His long nose pushed into her cleavage and he breathed deeply, the odor was a wonderful mixture of sweat, light perfume and the indefinable scent of warm skin and desire. As he continued to fondle her pussy through the fabric of her panties she nuzzled against the top of his head, making incoherent sounds of pleasure and desire.

"You're dripping wet, my kitten." He punctuated his words by increasing the speed of his finger's movements. "I knew you'd be back. A slut like you could never stay away."

"Hnng..." She balled his shirts between her fingers as his fingers circled her clit through the damp fabric. "I...I didn't come here to be teased. If you're going to fuck me, then stop messing around and fuck me."

Cobblepot pushed her back, almost knocking her back onto the bed. She almost tossed herself the rest of the way, eager to lay back...have him rip at her clothes...shove his cock up her hot, wet cunt...fuck her until her mind went white and she could barely walk. But his hand on her arm caught her short as he glared sternly at her.