Batman: Cat's Cradle

It'd be an eventful twenty-four hours for Selina Kyle, and she felt her position on not liking surprises had been entirely justified. She'd been making her usual rounds—you'd think the museums of Gotham would know better than to display a Cat's Eye Emerald at this point—when Nightwing interrupted her break-in. Not that she minded being watched by a cunning young man in skintight tights—doing

anything

—but the little shit had snagged her. She wondered what'd made Batman give him the go-ahead to actually arrest her.

It'd taken an hour out of her night, trying to shake him. After he'd finally caught up with her, she'd needed six hours to break out of Gotham County Lock-up. She'd had to go to one of her safehouses, retrieve another suit that was not at all broken in, only to hear that the Cat's Eye was being moved out of the city. Which meant she had to do something horribly unsubtle to an armored car.

She'd stolen an appropriate Ferrari and was just coming up on the truck when the Batmobile itself swept in front of her, cutting her off as the truck went on its merry way. Catwoman tore out of the driver's seat as the Batmobile's cockpit pulled open.

"What is

with you

tonight?" she demanded. "Sending your batboy to mess with my affairs; that was just rude! And now you're not obeying the traffic laws."

"I can't have you breaking the law in my city, Selina," he said, staring at her with grim determination. He didn't seem to know how to stare at her with anything else. "If you still feel the urge to steal things you don't even need, do it in someone else's town."

"Gotham's my home. Which you were perfectly fine with when I was helping you with Bane, or Scarecrow, or any of those other freaks who now want to kill

me

just as bad as you!"

"I

said

I won't tolerate crime. Even within my own circle. Being outside the law means I have to be more strict with who I associate with, not less. If you still want us to be together, we can take that up after you serve your sentence. I think the judge will be lenient after all you've done for the city."

Selina felt like using her claws to gouge her own eyes out. "Is this you breaking up with me? Are you fucking someone else? Zatanna? Wonder Woman? Who in your whole goddamn

harem

do you need me out of the way for?"

With gruffness in every muscle, he tossed her a set of handcuffs. "Put them on and get in. I won't ask you—"

With perfect timing, an explosion rocked Cathedral Square. Batman twisted around to watch the red bloom rise off a towering building. He briefly glanced back at Catwoman. She tossed him the handcuffs back.

Like a horse obeying its master's wishes without command, the Batmobile's cockpit slid shut. It peeled out, leaving Selina alone.

She wouldn't be going after the Cat's Eye. No, let that be her last favor to Bruce. His meaningless bauble would be home free. Her next theft would be of something far more precious.

***

First, she had some tension to burn off. Usually, ironically enough, she'd do that with Bruce. Not tonight, obviously. She already knew, but the very fact that Bruce was willing to write her off meant the Joker wasn't on the loose. If he were, he would've needed her help.

She guessed she was a victim of her own success. The streets were so quiet—she'd gotten so bored she'd needed the stimulation of a heist—he'd started questioning their working relationship. Thankfully, there was a solution. Harley was easy to find, hiding out in the abandoned Ace Chemicals Plant, printing out fliers for a gang to bust her Mistah J out of Arkham.

Selina watched her for a moment, enjoying the sight of Harley's brisk body in her skintight leotard, the suit pulled down to her waist for comfort, exposing her sports bra. Selina dealt with that first, breaking the clasp with a cut of her whip. Harley squeaked and Selina then wrapped the whip around her neck, jerking her to the cot in the room. Then she dropped down on top of Harley.

"Oh, kitty!" Harley half-swore. "You frightened me!"

"Then we're off to a good start." She allowed herself one passionate kiss, then spoke, letting Harley go wild nipping at her neck. "Remember back when Nightwing was just a little ol' Robin? Whenever he busted in and we weren't in our work clothes, he'd peek down our shirts or up our blouses; we'd show a little thigh, knowing he'd jerk off later..."

Harley moaned, Selina grabbing her crotch to make her answer, grinding her palm into the clown. "It was like he'd never seen a pair of tits before! Then he got big and hot and—

boring.

Never sneaks a peek anymore, just like his old man. I bet it's that Batgirl floozy, giving him all he can handle back at the ranch..."

Selina pulled her zipper down all the way. Harley's eyes went wide like she was at an ice cream social. She smeared her tongue all over Selina's creamy flesh, going down to her panties. "Hello Kitty!"

"Wouldn't it be fun if he were our little slave? You know I love this hot ass of yours—" Selina reached down to grab it. "But how kinky would it be if we could spank his whenever we felt like it?"

Harley paused just before Selina's crotch. "I don't know, kitty, sounds like an awfully fast way to get the Bat mad at us. And you don't have to put up with him when he grits his teeth and acts all mean—"

Selina fell back onto the headrest of her cupped hands, opening her legs wide. "Screw the Bat. He's not the boss of me. I take what I want, and right now I want a piece of ass in blue and black. Do you want my sloppy seconds or don't you?"

For the non-feline portion of the room's population, Harley was watching Selina's groin like a cat staring at a canary. "What'd I have to do?"

"Go to Ivy. You know how she is with you. Get me some of her pheromones. Enough to take the man wonder for a joy ride."

"But

Se-lin-ers,

you know how Ivy gets about her perfume..."

Selina clamped her legs shut. "If it's a no, I can just talk to her myself. I'm sure she'll make me pay a hefty price, but I might enjoy that. She'd get to play with me—and my new toy..."

Harley grabbed onto Selina's knees, prying them open. "No need to be hasty! You scratch my back, I scratch Ivy's back, Ivy scratches yours. Ain't that the way it's always been?"

Selina gave in, letting Harley open her legs up. She sighed as Harley lapped at her for the few minutes the clown could resist parking her rear on Selina's face. After that, they sixty-nined until morning, them lying with their bodies glowing from shared orgasms in the light of dawn. As usual, Harley got by far the better end of the deal, getting a warm-bodied mouthing from Selina while the cat had to rub her own clit to get anything out of Harley's enthusiastic, amateurish tonguings.

***

Catching Nightwing was simplicity itself. Selina knew far too much about Bruce's operation. She went to Dixon Docks, deep in Nightwing's patrol territory, and had Harley play hopscotch on a rooftop for a while. Selina watched from the shadows, meditating to get her strength up. A cat at rest.

He came in less than an hour. Typical Bat efficiency. Landed on the rooftop with a Batarang already to go. "You're going back to Arkham," he told Harley in that horrible Batman imitation the whole clan thought they needed. "Do you want to enjoy the ride or not?"

"Easy, Batsy Jr!" Harley called. "I was just minding my own business, having a little fun—

now, Seliners!"

Nightwing turned just in time to see Catwoman come out of hiding, flashing her whip past him. It caught Harley by the throat once more, and she just had time to squeak—higher-pitched than before—before Selina jerked her into Nightwing's range. He kept his eyes on Selina as he threw a fist backward, precisely catching Harley. She went cross-eyed, then she went down.

"Poor dumb Harl," Selina said. "I think she caught something from those hyenas of hers."

Still facing her, Nightwing knelt to tie up Harley. "So, still trying to impress the big guy?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

"The whole side of the angels routine. It never lasts. You pitch in with Two-Face, or the Riddler, then you rob an auction house cuz you feel like it. Getting a bit predictable."

"You don't think I'm still holding a grudge over that little arrest, do you?"

Nightwing shook his head. "Whatever you and Batman have, work it out. It's a waste of my time arresting you when he's just going to let you roam free."

"Oh. I couldn't agree more." Sauntering up to him, she worked her whip back into loops by erotic degrees, showing off her body with each stretch and twist. "Maybe I've been backing the wrong horse all these years. If Bruce is too old and set in his ways to be any fun, maybe someone a little younger—a little more virile—a little more stamina." She grinned down at Nightwing checking Harley for lockpicks. "You can tie me up too."

"Not interested.

Bruce

wants you gone. If you want to steal something, go to Bludhaven. We've got enough on our plate here."

Harley groaned. Nightwing double-checked her cuffs—again.

"Bludhaven?" Selina pouted. "But all the best booty is right here."

His head snapped up as she blew Ivy's pheromones into his face, the pink mist sprinkling his domino mask and flecking his face, flashing on his dark visage like glitter before his skin and breath took it. Even through the lenses of his mask, she could see his eyes go blank.

"Se... Selina... so beautiful..."

"Oh, I know," Selina said, still mockingly pouting. "It's a curse, looking the way I do. I'm sure you can emphasize."

She walked around him, her eyes wandering his taut body inside the provocation of his suit. It outlined every muscle, stretched the flat expanse of his skin like wind-worn sand over bedrock, clung to his form as black as sin. She ran a clawed hand over the nape of his neck, around to his cheek, finding the skin nice and soft, not even a burr of stubble.

He didn't resist as she pulled at his mask, harder and harder until the spirit gum gave way. Without the mask to throw his face into relief, she could make out a few faded scars in his bronzed tan. His crisp blue eyes stared at her, soft and cool, full of an adoration that brought out some maternal feelings among her appreciation of his beauty.

As she'd expected, it was Dick Grayson, Bruce's ward. He put on an obnoxious fratboy act to conceal his true nature; without it, his handsomeness shone through. His loving expression made his features almost delicate, but set on a striking, almost cruel face that she could enjoy. She could see how he could intimidate a gang of thugs, with some help from the mask. She could also see how he'd hopped into bed with half the people it was rumored he had.

"Hey, little boy, why don't you come back to my place? We'll have some fun and games."

"Yes, Selina, that sounds lovely."

They left for the elevator, Selina not thinking twice about leaving Harley bound and helpless. Perhaps that would teach her to reciprocate a little better during their next encounter. Poison Ivy aside, there was more to lovemaking than just letting someone stuff you with vines in every hole.

***

Back at one of her hide-outs, Selina casually wrapped an arm around Dick's waist as she led him around. Out of the Gotham night, her finely tuned senses could pick up even his imperceptible scent. The chill of cold sweat inside his suit, adrenaline, blood set deep in his costume.

"You've gotten all musky, running around out there, beating up all the naughty people." She reached down, cupping his ass. His flesh was warm even through the suit. "How about we wash you off?"

"I... don't..." He murmured confusedly as she led him to the bathroom. "Barbara might not like it."

"Oh," Selina cooed sympathetically. "Who's Barbara?"

"My girlfriend."

"Well... couldn't you explain to her that we were both naked?" Selina drew down her zipper.

With her bust already straining against the tight leather, every tug had her flesh bursting out of the bodysuit, exposing vast swathes of her pale skin. He stared helplessly as the zipper uncovered every bead of sweat that covered her athletic body, down the ripple of limber muscles in her stomach, finally to her panties. Only the collar of her costume held it against falling off, the sides of her full breasts exposed. She undid the snapping fasteners at her throat and her leather opened up like a blooming flower.

She knew her breasts were huge—much larger than what fit on Batgirl's petite, gymnast's frame. Without even a bra, they stood out from her chest like ripe fruit,

overripe

fruit, begging to be plucked from the vine. Vast globes of smooth white skin, crested by dark nipples, their delicately rounded contours radiating heat.

Dick stared, his body trembling, some private war being lost within himself. No matter how hard he fought, he could not help but display the outline of his cock pressed tightly against the fabric at his crotch. The bulge grew, became even more defined, seeming to travel halfway down his leg. Selina was actually a bit scared.

"Take it out," she said. "If you love me, you'll take it out."

Almost as if he were deliberately taunting her, his hand went down and unzipped his pants.

"Wait!" Selina cried. "Your suit first."

His hands slow and tentative, nearly virginal, he popped a button in the collar of his suit and exposed a zipper. Drawing it down his body, Selina could see wonderful differences between him and Bruce in every exposure. Bruce was masculine; overpoweringly so. No subtlety or subtext to him. His frame was broad, every inch packed with muscle, smeared with scars. His powerful form was like the sea in a storm, everything the chop of white waters whipped about with violence and power.

Dick was slender. His wry, lean frame crackled with withheld power. But there was a flexibility to him. If Bruce were a mighty oak, he was the palm tree that bent instead of breaking. Comparatively few scars spackled his dark skin; daubs of paint on a masterpiece, drawing attention to the artistry of the composition. Muscles stirred under his skin as if driven by gentle, pleasant breezes. Not a sea at storm, but the calm waters of a serene pond.

Continuing the comparison, Selina expected to be underwhelmed by his manhood. Obnoxious as Bruce could be, there were reasons Selina stayed with him. However, any idea of Dick being somehow less masculine than Bruce quickly faded as he retrieved his cock from inside the pants he was pushing down his legs—long, graceful, limber things that still spoke of a boy that would've run away to join the circus if he hadn't been born there.

His manhood had several inches on Bruce's, ten inches long, maybe more when he got harder—he was still only half-erect. The skin was tightly stretched over a thick girth and large veins, a throb rattling it like the beat to a song as it grew steadily. She looked up his wiry pubic hair, up his flat stomach and smooth, sparsely haired chest to marvel at his good looks, the easy grin on his lax face. His teeth were crisply white; diamonds set in his tan face.

As if worried it would abandon her, Selina looked back down at his fleshy cock, pushing out of the slit in his black briefs. She'd never been fucked by something so beautiful, so huge... never sucked on one, never touched one, never even seen one. Even in her days of a prostitute. But then, seeing something so delicious-looking, she supposed a man with one of those would hardly have to pay.

Selina just had to touch it.

She put her fingers at the head, and it seemed to take forever for her grip to trail down his smooth skin, veins burning against her palm to reach the base of his prick. It seemed even thicker there, but there was also a slight springiness to the touch. For all his size and stiffness, he was not yet fully hard.

"Before we wash you off," she said, "let's get you

real

dirty."

Set off by her words, Dick raised his hands to her breasts. He trembled with arousal. He stopped himself, though, even as her loaded words continued to reverberate through him.

"Touch them if you want," Selina urged, playing with her own breasts. As always, she enjoyed the heft and feel of them in her hands; even more with Dick looking on, practically slack-jawed. "Does

Barbara

let you touch them? I'm sure she doesn't have great, big

tits

like mine, so why would she mind if you touch her itty-bitty boobs?"

"I..." Dick was speaking through a throaty groan left unvoiced. "She likes it when I touch her breasts."

"Her

tits,

you mean?" Selina smiled, pleased to see Dick's namesake jump at her naughty grin. "Well, if

she

likes it, I don't see why I shouldn't. Why don't you touch my tits, Dick? My nice, big

tits

..."

Dick reached out and didn't stop until he'd closed his hands around Selina's breasts. Even through his haze, their firmness shocked him. They felt like bread dough ready for the oven, soft but resilient, waiting to be kneaded, to be groped. Still, he only caressed her cleavage, stroking her nipples as if they were fragile.

"They're wonderful," he breathed.

"So are you," she replied. "You and your big, beautiful

cock.

Does

Barbara

like your cock?"

"Yes," Dick said, drawn away for the moment with the thought of being inside her. "Oh yes."

Selina reached down and squeezed his cock hard, bringing a moan out of him. "But with her tiny little tits, you can't tit-fuck her, can you? Not like mine." Selina gripped his hands over her breasts, forcing him to press down harder. "My

wonderful

tits. Would you like to put your cock between these wonderful tits?"

He looked at her, glazed over with excitement. "Could I?"

She got down on her knees. "Yes, Dick. Absolutely."

She grabbed his cock—less give than before, the blood pounding inside it—and pulled it to her cleavage. His breath beat like a drum as he watched her rub his sensitive cockhead over her nipples. She could feel every bump of her areola doused in the precum seeping from him. With a wide grin, Selina pulled the crotch of his briefs to one side to see his balls, the wiry hair at the base of his cock. Marvelous.

"Take them off," she said. He stooped to do so, pressing his balls into her cleavage, his cock throbbing at her throat. Selina mewled, reaching over to close her fingers on his ass. His cheeks were muscular and firm, but with a bit of the give that was now missing from his rock-hard manhood. As he stopped out of his briefs, she looked up at his face with eyes glowing. With him bent over, her kneeling, she could just catch his lips in a kiss. His tongue dove expertly into her mouth, soothingly, lovingly basking her in attention—the boy even moaning slightly as she pulled away.

She pushed and pulled at his ass, making him twist his hips, rub his balls over her cleavage and run his dripping cock over her throat. She nipped down to lap quickly at his cockhead, getting a quick taste of precum. Her breasts were burning, her nipples stinging. She could relieve them a little, groping herself in either hand, but Selina knew what she really needed.

"I want your cock in my tits now, Dick. And I always get what I want."

Selina lunged for, catching his cock in her cleavage, pushing her breasts together on either side of it. God, his flesh was hot, feverish. All the leather and neoprene and costumes could be so cold, but

he

was burning up.

"I can feel your cock

throb,

baby," she purred, swaying, bending, undulating like an exotic dancer. Every lash of her body worked Dick's phallus between her cleavage. "So good between my tits. Your great, big cock—just made for my great, big tits. And your cum, making your balls so nice and big... just made to shoot off in my face." She closed her breasts tightly around him, tucking her chin down to kiss his cockhead. "Would you like to come in my face? In this..." She pulled her cowl off, goggles and all tinkling to the floor, "gorgeous face?"