The following is a work of erotic fiction and includes scenes of sexual activity. It includes characters that are copyrighted by DC Comics. This story is intended for the non-commercial enjoyment of fans and should be considered a parody. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit will be made from the distribution of this story.
Author's Note: This story first appeared in slightly different form back in 1995. It has been rewritten for Literotica.
*****
"Oh, my head," Robin whispered as he stirred awake.
It took a few more moments for him to fully regain consciousness, and once he did, he immediately took stock of his surroundings. His last memory was of chasing someone across the Gotham rooftops; now he was in someone's apartment.
'I've been captured!' the teen wonder screamed in his mind as he suddenly became aware that he was in restraints.
Taking a deep breath, he willed himself to think calmly, just as Barman had taught him. Take stock of the situation, then form a plan of action.
The room was in semi-darkness, illuminated only by the moonlight filtering through the skylight. Bright blue eyes surveyed the loft, only to find there really wasn't all that much to see. A studio apartment, very nondescript, the type you could find anywhere in Gotham City - or any city for that matter - raising the concern that he could be anywhere in the country. A small bed, three dressers and a small kitchenette. Then he noticed two suitcases in the corner by the door, indicating that someone had either just moved in or was getting ready to move out.
Next, he again tried his bonds, with just as little success as his last attempt. He was strapped to some sort of homemade wooden table, attached to a wheel and pulley system that allowed the bed to be raised and lowered. He could be brought up to a fully standing position or laid flat. Currently, he was locked into a forty-five-degree angle, reminding him of one of those scenes in the old Frankenstein movies.
'Okay, I'm not strong enough to break out of this,' he thought, 'so let's consider rescue options.'
Across the room, he could see his bright yellow cape and green gloves draped across a chair. His utility belt, the object of his search, was nowhere to be seen.
'Figures, that would be the one thing they got rid of,' he thought. 'The homing transmitter inside the buckle would make rescue all too easy.'
Not seeing the point of testing the heavy leather straps a third time, the teenage adventurer reviewed what he could recall of the events that led him here, wherever here might be.
He'd been on the way back from making a personal appearance at the new Gotham Boys Club over in West Douglaston when he spotted a dark figure exiting a tenth-floor window of the Diamond Exchange. He'd tried Batman on his cycle's radio, but got only static. Deciding it would be impossible to follow the figure on the streets, he had bat-roped to the roof and taken off after the thief.
Despite his years of circus acrobatic training, continued and improved on by the Batman, Robin was unable to do more than keep the dark figure in sight. Whoever they were, they were good. After about ten minutes, he was just about to give up and admit he'd lost the burglar somewhere near the waterfront. Flipping on his portable radio to check in, he instead snapped it off when he caught a sudden movement off to his right.
The green and red clad hero whirled around and quickly took off across the roof. He was only a few seconds behind his adversary when he suddenly felt himself falling. Robin had only a split second to realize that the rotting roof of the long-abandoned building had given way beneath him. Then he was engulfed in darkness.
'Well, Dickie boy, you really did it this time,' the Teen Wonder said to himself. 'When Batman catches up to you, he's really going to read you the riot act about taking off on your own.'
He really didn't want to consider the possibility that Batman wouldn't catch up to him. Or that his captor might have planned a fatal conclusion to the night's adventure.
Who was his captor? That was a good question. Was it the shadowy thief he'd chased across the rooftops? Or was it someone who'd stumbled upon his unconscious body in that empty warehouse?
One good thing in his favor was that, aside from a low-grade headache and a few minor bruises, he didn't seem to be hurt. Another important consideration was that he hadn't been unmasked, which meant that whoever had brought him here didn't know that under the mask and cape he was Dick Grayson. Not that he himself was famous or anything, but he'd been photographed with Bruce enough times for someone to have seen a picture in a newspaper or magazine. If Bruce Wayne's ward was moonlighting as Robin, could there be any question about who was Batman?
Far off in the distance, Dick heard a clock chiming two. He'd been unconscious for almost three hours. Batman had to be out looking for him by now. But looking where?
For the next twenty minutes, that thought dominated his thinking. Without that utility belt, it was going to be pure chance whether he was found. Could his captor have already left, abandoning him here? If that was the case, his chances might very well drop from slim to none.
That morbid concept was suddenly interrupted by the sound of padded footsteps on the roof, followed by the appearance of a dark form at the edge of the skylight.
"Batman?" Robin whispered under his breath.
Half of the old-style skylight opened and the shadowy figure dropped into the room. With a catlike grace the silhouette landed on the hard wood floor. Still covered in shadows, it moved across the room to a light switch next to the door.
"I can tell you're awake," said a soft melodious voice as she hit the light switch, flooding the room with light. "No sense is trying to hide it."
Illuminated by the twin rows of track lighting that covered the opposite walls, the new arrival stood revealed. Clad in a skintight dark purple jumpsuit, she wore a tight-fitting cowl with small cat ears. Although she had never been photographed, Robin had no doubt as to her identity.
"You're the Catwoman!" he said in an excited voice.
"Well, that's pretty obvious..." she responded as she walked across the room. "Any other revelations?"
As she stood in front of him, Robin couldn't help but be impressed by her purple clad body. He'd always thought Batgirl had a hard body, but next to the Catwoman, she might as well have been a boy.
"I must've been out of my mind bringing you up here," she said as she tossed a small carry bag onto the bed. "If I was the hardened criminal they keep writing about in the papers, I'd have left you back in that warehouse. The way some of those rags write about me, I should've slit your throat, just to keep in practice."
A slight shiver ran through Robin at that suggestion. Then he told himself that if Catwoman wanted him dead, she already had ample opportunity.
"Why did you bring me up here?" Robin asked.
"I was impressed by the way you tried to keep up with me back there at the Diamond Exchange," she began. "No one has ever even spotted me on a job before, and here you were on my heels for over a mile. When I saw you fall through that roof, I doubled back to see how badly you were hurt."
"To be honest, I only spotted you at the Exchange by accident," Robin interrupted, figuring better to keep on her good side, "and I was about to give up the chase when you bolted out of that last cubby-hole."
"Well, that makes me feel a little better," Catwoman said as she smiled. "I take great pride in my abilities."
She paused as she pulled off her cowl, revealing short jet-black hair. Robin took her to be about twenty-seven or so, definitely no more than thirty. Her features were more cute than beautiful and as she ran her fingers across her head, she combed her hair into an almost boyish style.
"Were, was I? Oh yes, I doubled back to see how badly you were hurt. At first glance, your injuries looked a lot worse than they really were. You landed on a pile of garbage bags and they broke your fall. Nothing was broken; I've had paramedic training. At first, I figured I'd just call an ambulance and get out of there while the getting was good, but then I spotted a group of waterfront dregs already watching from the broken windows. If I left you there, you might not be alive when the boys in white showed up."
"Thank you, I'm grateful." Robin said emotionally. "I really mean that."
"I believe you do," Catwoman replied. "I've never killed anyone, or ever wanted to be the cause of anyone else's death. Unlike most of those costume clowns running around this city, I'm only in this for the money. Let them play their power trip games while they try and outfox the Police and Batman. I'm content with having never been seen, only glimpsed."
"Until now..." Robin said, suddenly feeling a little insecure.
"Until now..." Catwoman repeated.
A long silence hung in the air until the Catwoman finally spoke again.
"I guess I have to make sure that you can't tell anyone about the Catwoman," she said.
Robin's face went pale at her words and he felt his body grow suddenly cold.
"Since I already passed on my chance to do away with you," Catwoman said, "I guess I'll have to kill the Catwoman instead."
"What?" Robin asked, certain he had heard wrong.
"Kill the Catwoman," she repeated. "If she doesn't exist, then your description doesn't matter, does it?"
Robin let out a sigh of relief.
"I've been planning to retire the tights after a few more jobs anyway," Catwoman continued. "I guess I should take this as a sign that it's time. No sense tempting fate. After all, I already have enough money, all safe and sound in the best banks - none of them in Gotham, I might add."
"Catwoman...I..." Robin began.
He was cut off as she placed am outstretched index finger against his lips, signifying silence.
"I told you, from this moment on, there is no Catwoman," she said softly. "You can call me Selina."
