Author's note: Catwoman and Huntress are TM and (C) DC Comics. Their use here is a work of parody, is not meant as a challenge to their trademarks, and should not be read by anyone under the age of 18.
This story is a sequel to my first ever fic, The Eros Formula. I hope it satisfies those readers who've been asking for a follow-up.
Voting and feedback is always very much appreciated. Thanks!
^,^
Dr Preston McGregor woke up choking, the
snap crack
of a bullwhip stinging his ears.
"Wake up, fucker," Catwoman hissed in the darkness. "And explain exactly what you did to me."
As he lay in his bed asphyxiating, every muscle and vein in his body straining, one thought occurred to Preston.
Why had she taken so long?
He'd been waiting for this for months now -- ever since she'd broken into his lab to try and steal the Eros formula, only for the both of them to end up getting exposed to it and...all that had followed.
He had known it would only be a matter of time until his path crossed Catwoman's again. They'd had far too big an impact on each other for it not to. The fact that she was strangling him, however, came as a bit of a surprise.
He coughed hard as he struggled for breath, the whip going slack just at the moment he thought he might black out.
"W-what do you...you mean...?" He asked, his face bright red.
"What do I
mean
?" She repeated. "I mean, you bastard, that ever since you exposed me to that goddamn drug of yours, I've been having...dreams.
Feelings.
And while I'm all for female sexual liberation, this is more than I signed on for! So speak. Explain yourself! Or, I swear, you're going to know what it's like when auto-erotic asphyxiation experiments go tragically wrong."
She made her point clear by jerking the whip tight again, causing Preston another bout of coughing.
"Y-you're right!" He said. "The drug...it was too powerful...what we experienced...told me that...it won't be getting released...not in th-that form...B-but...!"
"But what?" Catwoman snapped.
"But it doesn't---doesn't cause you to do anything you wouldn't
want
to do! It j-just lowers your inhi---hih!—bitions! We wouldn't have had sex...if we weren't attracted to each other---!"
The whip, while still coiled around Preston's throat, remained slack. Now that he wasn't struggling for breath, he could focus enough to see her through the darkness.
The beam from the street lamp outside was filtering through the half-closed blinds of the window, spilling over Catwoman's body in a zebra pattern of light and shade. He'd almost forgotten how exquisite her body was; it was so perfectly proportioned, so horribly addictive.
The other thing that occurred to Preston as he stared up at her in the monochromatic light, the other thing that made his heart skip and his loins pulse...was it
possible
? Was she
naked
?
"Nothing you wouldn't want to do, huh?" She said, her eyes flashing in the dark.
"Uh huh." Preston said, trying to pull the whip from around his throat and having no luck. If she noticed him struggling, she gave no sign of it. Instead she remained towering over him, her alluring silhouette motionless.
"All I've wanted to do..." she said finally, the shafts of light from the blinds spilling over her thighs, her navel, her breasts...her nipples. "...is
this
."
She moved with sudden and precise grace, squatting down, mounting his face, smothering him with her thighs, her ass, her pelvis, and in that moment he knew it to be true -- her bare, sizzling slit pressed against his nose and his lips.
She was already so wet that the liquid was streaming from her pussy, dampening her thighs.
Preston reacted without hesitation. He started lapping eagerly at her cunt, tasting all she had to offer to her cooing, mewling delight.
"I've been dreaming of you!" She said as she pushed down, forcing her clit between his eager lips. "So many dreams...so much
wanting
..."
Her thighs squeezed the sides of his face as she rode his mouth, his tongue snaking up inside her. She cried out at the feel of it.
"Auugnnh!"
Preston's hands found her beautiful ass, which he grasped as he lapped hungrily at her, licked her as if his life depended on it...and in the back of his mind, he wondered if it really did.
Outside, the wind blew through the Gotham streets with a building intensity. The night was dark and dawn was a long way off...
^,^
Helena Bertinelli, aka the Huntress, entered the building via the rooftop after picking the lock with one of the many instruments she kept in her belt. She descended the stairs silently, like a floating shadow, and exited on the fifth floor.
She stalked through the dimly-lit hallway until finally coming to apartment 5D, to which she had the key. No one saw her as she let herself in.
The apartment was empty save for an array of surveillance equipment set-up by the large window in the living room. A video camera was affixed to a tripod and pointed quite precisely out the window, feeding its broadcast to a small colour monitor that sat beside a desk chair.
The Huntress took a seat, pulling her night-vision binoculars from her belt as she did so. Looking through the binoculars at the apartment directly opposite, she detected no signs of movement.
Placing the binoculars down, she picked up the controls to the video camera and scrolled through the vision from the past 24 hours.
She'd been tracking Catwoman for well over a fortnight now, ever since she'd first spotted her by chance during one of her nightly patrols. It had been a hell of a job tailing her, given how fast the cat burglar ran and how acrobatically she moved, but Huntress was no slouch herself.
She'd tracked her to the studio apartment across the street and had watched as she'd rendezvoused with an unknown male. At first, Huntress had assumed the guy to be some kind of contact -- a fence, a client, a fellow criminal.
But when Catwoman had dropped to her knees and started sucking the guy's cock, well...Helena had known there was more to it than that.
She had considered busting in on them and arresting Catwoman then and there. Red-handed from jerking the guy off as she was, however, it was hardly like she was in the midst of a crime.
So Huntress had elected instead to tail Catwoman, waiting to catch her in the middle of her next job. What she found instead, however, was Catwoman sprinting across the city skyline every night to spend every hour until dawn fucking her mystery man, disappearing once the sun started to come up.
Huntress had found the empty apartment and set up the surveillance equipment on the off-chance she might catch them plotting something. Or at least, that's what she told herself, just as she told herself that the only reason she'd broken into the guy's place while he was out for the day was to plant bugs to record the audio of their plotting.
As she popped the headphones on now, however, and watched the playback from last night, she heard the furthest thing from plotting.
'
Arrn ffuck me! Fuck me with your monster cock! Make me cum! Uooonhhh!'
The audio came back crisp and clear as Huntress watched the couple on the screen screwing in night-vision green. She watched as the mystery man -- his name revealed as Preston, his body revealed as chiselled and spectacular -- fucked Catwoman like the exotic animal she was.
But then Huntress noticed something out of the corner of her eye that made her hit the pause button and grab her binoculars.
She had felt disappointed before when she thought the apartment to be empty. Instead it seemed she'd been looking in the wrong place. There was motion in the apartment opposite as Catwoman and Preston stumbled into the light of the main room, up against the bay windows, presumably having moved from the shadows where the bedroom was...
They were hungry for each other, hands and mouths moving rapidly, seeking each other's lips and bodies. Preston spun Catwoman round in his grip, his chest on her back, as he grinded his bare cock against her supple rear, his mouth hot and wet on her neck.
Catwoman was naked, save for her mask, gloves and boots. It struck Huntress as the kinkiest kind of roleplaying, blurring the line between the stature of one's role in the super community and the fantasy that the role represented. That was if she was to get analytical about it, which she refused to do...
Huntress stood. She checked her crossbow, made sure it was in working order, made sure she had enough bolts for it.
Tonight. If she was ever going to do it, it would have to be tonight...
^,^
Preston had Catwoman bent over the breakfast table by the window, pumping her from behind with all he had. Her long, black curls jostled around her face, her tits bouncing on the surface of the table.
"Unnnnwwhhhh!! FUCK!" Catwoman screamed as she thrust back at him. "
Fuck me!
