Detective Nick Markin awoke in a daze, his head swimming. He tried to re-trace his steps to how he had found himself in this predicament but everything blurred together, an amorphous blob of memories, sensations and ill-timed pounds to his head. He tried to move his hand to his head to rub it but found his hands tied behind his back. His legs were tied too, bound to the legs of the chair beneath him. He struggled with his bonds but found himself tied fast.
Detective Markin shook his head and slowly pieced together a timeline of what had happened to him.
'First of all, you're not Nick Markin,' He told himself. He had been repeating that line, 'You're not Nick Markin,' to himself over and over again the last 2 months, ever since he had gone undercover to infiltrate the Dimitrov Crime Family. Gone was Nick Markin; now he was Alex Yemelin, numbers man for the mob. It was a top assignment, a dangerous assignment, and one that Commissioner Gordon had assigned to him personally due to his talent with numbers, his Russian ancenstry, and his steely demeanor.
He was going to need that steely demeanor to get out of this situation, he thought. He was tied to a chair in a place he didn't recognize. He wasn't sure where he was, who had captured him, or what they were planning on doing to him. Detective Markin prepared himself for the possibility that he might be tortured.
Why he might be tortured suddenly clicked into Detective Markin's, no, Alex's head. He had helped set up a deal to import a rare collection of stolen Russian artifacts for Yuri Dimitrov, the head of the Dimitrov Crime Family. The artifacts were rare and valuable and Yuri had planned on being there to inspect them personally when they arrived. If someone knew the location of where those artifacts were to arrive, they'd have a bead on where Yuri Dimitrov would be. An assassination attempt would be assured.
Alex couldn't tell anyone that secret. The plan was for the police to be there when Dimitrov came to inspect the artifacts, ready to arrest him for illegal trafficking, racketeering and a thousand other charges. Then Alex would be free not to be Alex and could become Detective Markin once more. He could see his wife and his young son once more.
Alex remembered sitting in the office of one of the Dimitrov's fronts, running over the final numbers of the deal he had arranged. The deal was going to be the next night... tonight?... and he had to ensure everything was ready. Everything was indeed ready and he had left the building in high spirits. As he rounded a corner he felt... a scratch on his neck, he thought? He remembered turning around and seeing nothing there before... that was it. He could remember nothing else until he woke up in this back room somewhere.
As Alex sat in his chair, he heard a door open off in the distance. 'Here we go,' He thought, steeling himself for what was to come. He was surprisingly unworried; he had spent 2 months undercover with some of the most Dangerous men in Gotham without breaking. He was prepared for anything.
The door opened. Alex was unprepared for what walked through.
"Hello, darling," Catwoman said to him. She leaned against the door frame with one hand high against it. Alex couldn't help but stare at her. She wasn't tall but she was lean and sexy, her skintight black suit hugging her slender curves. She had her suit zipped down, giving Alex the barest hint at her cleavage. She looked at Alex with a small smile. Her cap covered the top of her head but Alex could still see her dark, heavily mascara'd eyes and her bright red lipstick. Alex recognized the face from the countless reward posters he had seen up at the station.
Everyone in the Gotham City Police Department wanted to catch Catwoman. Not everyone necessarily wanted to catch her so they could arrest her, however. In his old life as Nick Markin, Alex had heard the jokes and stories; there was even a fabled reward for whatever cop "tamed" the cat. None of the boys joked about that with Detective Markin, however; he had been written off as one of the good ones and had languished in isolation until Commissioner Gordon had plucked him from obscurity.
Even now, when confronted with her, Alex tried to maintain a stiff upper lip. He tried to deny a stiff something else.
"I'm sorry I have to keep you tied up like this," Catwoman said as she strode towards Alex. One thin leg crossed in front of the other. Alex thought that she walked like she was on a runway. He wondered if she always committed her crimes in those high heels or if they were just for him. He shook the thought of his mind.
"I can't have you getting out of hand," Catwoman continued. "Who knows what a big, strong man like you would do to such a delicate little thing like me if you were to get untied." Catwoman was acting dainty but Alex knew she was anything but.
"I'm Catwoman, as you've probably guessed. And your name is...?" Catwoman was standing in front of Alex now, lording over him. His eyes were directly in line with her breasts and he tried not to give her the satisfaction of staring.
"You know who I am," Alex told her, looking her in the eye. His voice came out even, cold; he was proud of himself.
Catwoman laughed. "So I do," She said. "You're Alex Yemelin and you have information that I need. I need it badly, Alex." Catwoman leaned forward slightly and her lips pouted just a little bit as she said this. Alex squirmed in his seat unconsciously. "Will you tell me where those Russian artifacts are being brought in? I need to see them, to hold them in my hands."
"I'm not telling you anything," Alex said stiffly. Catwoman smiled again.
"Oh, I think you are," She said, striding away from Alex. "I think you're going to be dying to tell me very soon." Catwoman turned and unbuckled her whip from her side. She threw it out, unfolding it. Tommy hid his fear well.
"You can torture me all you want but I'm not talking," Alex told her.
Catwoman smiled once again, this time showing her teeth. "We'll see about that," She said. She held up her whip high and cracked it. Alex turned his head, waiting for a sharp crack on his body.
But, instead of a sharp crack, he felt only a soft touch near his groin. Tommy looked down but could see no mark.
"Looks like you missed," Alex said, taunting Catwoman.
"Did I?" She replied. She walked towards Alex once again. She leaned towards him, her breasts hanging down tantalizingly in front of his face. Her hand slowly fell down to his groin, where her whip had missed its mark, and Alex realized that she had not missed her mark at all. Her whip had torn Alex's pants right at the seam and Catwoman's hand effortlessly ripped it open.
Catwoman put her legs on either side of Alex and straddled him. She felt so warm against him, he thought. The skin of her breasts touched his chin and her breath grazed his ear. He tried to move, to get away from her, but he couldn't. He was helpless to her touch.
"Using pain to get what you want is such a... man thing to do," Catwoman whispered into his ear. "That's something Batman would do. I prefer a more... feminine approach." Catwoman began to move her hips against Alex. He slowly realized that she was grinding against him. For the first time, he lost his composure.
