Breaking Catwoman

by Nimrod 

Chapter 1

	Selina Kyle looked at the picture.
	"What in the world is that?" she asked, more to herself than anyone else, given
the fact that she was alone in her apartment, apart from her cats. She was
flipping through a glossy magazine about the life-style of the rich and famous -
in many ways excellent compilations of target data - when she saw the picture of
a man standing next to a little statue. What caught her eye was its cat-like
shape. The next thing that caught her eye was that it is made of gold, with
diamonds liberally placed all over it. The caption read, "Mr Jonathan Smith with
one of his heirlooms, a statue of a cat made by the great artist ..."
	By then, the Catwoman had lost interest. She was looking intently at all the
pictures taken of the mansion that Mr Smith calls his little bachelor's pad. She
also noted the helpful detail that Mr Smith will be attending a charity ball
thrown the next day by a wealthy socialite in New York to help raise fund for
... wild cats in Africa.
	The article did not give an address for Mr Smith's place, of course, but it did
mention it was in an exclusive district of Gotham City. There was not many such
places. A quick reference to the city directory told Catwoman that the house
could only be in a certain area of the city. It was time for a little footwork. 
	She had quickly changed into an expensive looking dress, pulled her Minox
camera from a drawer, jammed in fresh films, jumped into her Jaguar, and was
roaring eastward within half an hour. Within an hour, she had located the house
from a picture of the front of the house, given helpfully by the magazine. A
feature that helped her identified the house was a small blue box mounted near
the door that gave the name of the security firm he used. The same blue box was
quite visible from outside the tall iron gates of the house. 
	She had gotten out of her car, put on a really large and ridiculous looking hat
that at the same time hid her features from plying eyes, and went up to the
gate. She pressed a buzzer several times, but there was no response. She then
tried rattling the gate, and waited. There did not seem to be any roaming
guard-dogs - they would have made an appearance by now. The gate did not seem to
be wired either. She rattled hard enough to set off any alarm, and no one had
turned up. She knew that she could scale the gates in five seconds flat. She
glanced around at the neighbouring houses, and satisfied herself that the gates
could not be easily seen from those houses because of the large hedges on both
sides serving as fences. What she needed was a precise plan of the security
system for the house.
	She had those by the next morning after an uneventful trip into the office of
the security firm. The plans were neatly filed according to alphabetical order,
and she committed the relevant plans to memory quickly. It was going to be a
piece of cake. The security was minimum. No guard dogs. No sensors in the
garden. The only line of defence was wired windows and doors, using contact
breakers - something she knew how to disarm blindfolded. The location of the
safe was almost laconic - hidden behind a shelf. It was a pathetic affair that
she could crack with a hair-pin.
	She had spent the rest of the day at the house, watching the place. She became
even more confident. The neighbours were not the neighbourly sort. You could
hardly see anyone on the street, except when they zoom by in their really
expensive cars. Police patrols were often, but regular like clock-work. The
security patrol was even worse. They came around every two hours. She would only
need half an hour. 
	She had gotten back home, and changed. She had debated herself on what to wear.
She might had chosen a velvet crepe cat-suit, which is usually what she wore for
its comfort. However, this was such a push-over job that she decided in the end
to wear a black latex catsuit with corset and high-heeled boots. No reason why
she should not have fun at work! She wore a trench coat over the cat-suit,
slipped her mask into a pocket, and went down to her garage where a well-muffled
motor-cycle was under-wraps. It was a powerful BMW that could easily out-run any
police cruiser or bike. It had a false license plate so that it could not be
traced to her even if seen at the scene of crime. She pulled on a helmet,
started the beast, and was on her way.
	She had gotten to the house just after one o'clock. She parked the bike right
next to the gate, confident that its expensive, well polished appearance would
fool anyone into thinking that it belonged there. She scaled the gate by the
fourth seconds, was into the shadows by the fifth, and was at a window not
visible to the street by the tenth second. By the twentieth second, she had cut
a neat hold in a pane of glass. 
	She had found the wiring for the contact breakers through the latex over her
fingers, by passed them with an extension wire, and opened the window. She had
slipped into the house, and waited in the shadows, listening. It was quiet. No
one in the house. She strode up to the right shelf, switched on a small torch
which she placed in her mouth, and explored the shelf until she found the catch
that unlatched it and swung it open. The door behind was not even locked. She
opened it and stepped in. In front of her was the safe. It had a good, old
fashion tumbler lock, which was defeated within five minutes. She swung the door
open, and the light of her torch fell on a small little statue.
	Purring contentedly to herself, she reached forward and grasped the statue. 
	"Ouch!" she exclaimed, at the same time withdrawing her hand. As she grasped
the statue and lifted it, she felt a pain in the palm of her hand. Instinctively
she had let go of the statue. The light from her torch fell on the statue laying
on its side. Sticking clearly out of its side was a short but nasty looking
needle. 
	She turned and stepped out of the room. Her body felt a bit weird. As she took
another step, she felt increasingly sluggish. She realised that she had been
drugged, and that the needle had been the means of injection of the drug. She
knew that she had fallen into a trap like a stupid, greedy amateur. She took
another step. Her legs were heavy as concrete, her head was beginning to swim.
The room seem to swing crazily as she tried to steady herself. Then the floor
seem to jump up and slam into her. She just noticed a dark shadow moving towards
her before she lost consciousness.

Chapter 2

	Catwoman slowly opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was carpet. She
blinked. Then she saw the leg of a chair. A little farther away was a torch
laying on the floor. Her torch. She turned her head and looked up onto the
ceiling. She noticed that it was brighter than she remembered and realised that
it was dawn. She got up and looked around the room. It was empty. 	
	She still felt sluggish, but otherwise she seemed all right. She shook her head
to clear it. She knew that she had to get out of the house quickly, and started
towards the window she had came in by.
	"Leaving so soon?" 
	She turned around. A short, thin, shrivelled man was sitting on a wheel chair
at the door. 
	"Yes, unless you intend to stop me." Catwoman said. 
	"What about the collar?" the man asked.
	Catwoman suddenly realised that there was something around her neck. She placed
her hands on it. It was a leather collar of some sort.
	"What is this?" she demanded.
	"Allow me to demonstrate." The man said. He pressed a button on the right
armrest of his wheel chair.
	Catwoman screamed as great pain surged through her body. She fell to the
ground, grasping for air.
	"An electric shock collar. Very effective for controlling lions, tigers,
panthers and other such big cats." The man said calmly, "It will incapacitate
you for a few minutes."
	Catwoman could not move. Her body felt totally numb. She cursed herself for
being trapped like this. Eventually, she felt her body becoming functional
again. She got up slowly, staring with hatred at the man. She always hated men.
Now, she had been trapped and tortured by a man - a cripple at that. The man sat
calmly in his chair, looking serenely as she stood up. He grasped his hands in
front of him as she looked at him warily, away from the button.
	She pounced. 
	She was almost on top of him, her clawed hands almost reaching him when she
felt a surge of pain again. She screamed again, smashing onto the ground. 
	"I apologise for that," the man said, "I knew you would try something like
this, so I rigged up the trigger mechanism to activate should you ever come
within reach of me."
	The man wheeled himself back a little and waited patiently as Catwoman
recovered and sat up.
	"What do you want ..."
	Again she screamed and fell back helpless onto the floor.
	"Another thing," the man said, "Speak only when you are spoken to. You are no
longer an autonomous individual. You are under my control. Understand?"
	"Never." She gasped.
	"I see," the man said as she struggled to get up, "A defiant and strong one."
	He sighed as she got up on all four. 
"Well, I have time. You will learn."
He shocked her again. She fell back onto the ground, gasping for air. He shocked
her a few more time before she whispered, "Enough, please."

	Catwoman followed him reluctantly, but nevertheless, obediently. She kept a
wary distance from the wheel chair, knowing that stepping too near will mean
only more pain. He led her down a corridor until he came to a double door. He
turned the wheel chair around, and backed away from the door.
	"Open it." he said quietly.
Catwoman hesitated for a brief moment. His hand hovered over the button. She
grind her teeth and opened the door. 
	"Go in." 
	Catwoman obeyed and stepped into the room. 
	The room was unlike the rest of the house that she had seen. It was austere in
appearance. There was no carpetting on the floor. The walls were not papered or
painted, just bare concrete. There was no windows as well, only ventilation
vents high above the wall. Towards the far wall stood a large cage. The only
furnishing was a toilet bowl inside the cage. The cage door was open, facing
her.
	"Inside." He said.
	Catwoman turned and growled. The next moment, she was in pain and helpless on
the floor. When she could stand up again, she staggered into the cage.
	"Good." he said, wheeling himself into the room. He went up to the cage and
shut the cage door. 
	"Now, on the floor of the cage, you will find several items." The man said.
Catwoman looked down. On the floor of the cage was two sets of manacles, a pair
of ankle cuffs joined by a one-foot chain, and a pair of standard hand-cuffs.
They were joined by a one-foot length of chain. Next to them was the largest
ball-gag that she had ever seen.
	"Please put them on. The ball gag first." The man commanded, hand hovering
threateningly over the button. 
	Catwoman did as she was told. She picked up the gag, opened her mouth as wide
as she could, and pushed the gag between her jaws. Once it slided past her
teeth, it was not so uncomfortably large. She pulled the straps behind her neck,
and buckled the strap.
	“Tighter.” The man ordered. Catwoman gave him a baleful stare, unbuckled the
gag, and then buckled it tighter.
	“Now, put on the leg irons.”
	She locked the cuffs of the leg iron over her slender ankles, the right one
first, then the left one.
	"On your knees."
	Catwoman did as she was told.
	"Now, hand-cuff yourself behind your back." 
	Catwoman cuffed the steel manacles over her wrists.
	"Turn around."
	Catwoman obeyed, struggling to turn her back to him.
	"Good," the man said, inspecting the manacles, “Now, I suggest you get some
sleep. You will not be going anywhere for a while. And just in case you think of
trying to get out of your bondage, I will be watching. Any unseeming movement
and … zap. Understand?”
	Catwoman nodded, realising that she was now completely in the power of the man.
She watched him wheel himself out, and the door slid shut behind him. She was
now a captive. A caged tiger.

        Catwoman did not know how long she spent alone in the room. Her jaws
were aching by now from being forced open by the gag. Her mouth and throat was
dry as stone. She found  her bonds restrictive. The chain connecting the
handcuffs to the leg irons was so short that she could only move around either
on her knees, or by squatting down. So, she just lay down on her side and curled
herself into a foetal position. And waited. 
        After what seemed a long time, the doors slided open again. Catwoman
looked up, expecting to see the man in the wheel chair. Instead, she saw a
figure totally clad in black latex, from head to toe. It was a slim female
figure with small breasts, narrow waists and long legs. She wore a tight latex
cat-suit, a pair of high-heels, and a hood over her head with only eyes for her
eyes and nostrils. Catwoman saw that she wore a collar like her own. She was
also wearing a maid’s apron. A fetish maid. Catwoman saw that she carried a tray
in her hands.
        The maid came up to the cage and unlocked the door. She came into the
cage and place it on the floor next to Catwoman. She turned Catwoman onto her
stomach, and began to unbuckle the gag. She pulled the gag out, and placed it
aside. She then took out a lock, pulled on the chains of the leg iron until they
met the chains of the handcuff, and locked them together, effectively hog-tying
Catwoman. She stood up, pointed to the tray, then went out of the cage, shutting
the door behind her. Catwoman watch her leave the room before turning to the
tray. 
        The tray had two compartments. One had shredded tuna in it, the other
water. From her hog-tied position, she could only lap up the water and picked
the tuna with her teeth - like a cat. She cursed, but nevertheless ate and
drank. She was hungry and thirsty. Soon, she was sleepy as well. She realised
that the food must have been drugged. Slowly, she drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 3
        
        Catwoman regained consciousness. She panicked when she realised that she
could not open her eyes. She felt the pressure of pads over her eye-lids, and a
leather strap strapped tightly over her eyes and around her head. She realised
that she had been blind-folded. 
        Catwoman tried to move her limbs, realising that they were probably
bound. They were. Her arms with behind her back. Her elbows were forced together
in an arm-binder. She could feel the tightness of the rubber forcing her arms
together. The arm-binder ended in a mitten that encased both her hands. She
could feel an additional strap around her wrists, binding her wrists tightly
together. She could also feel a strap running from the tip of the mitten between
her legs. When she pulled on the arm-binder, the strap rubbed against her vulva.
The strap was attached to a body-harness, for she could feel other straps move
slightly as she pulled. There was a strap around her waist, another around her
chest under her breasts, another across her breasts, squeezing them into four
moulds of flesh. The straps were all attached to the arm-binder, holding her
arms firmly against her body. They were joined together in front by another
strap that ran up the centre of her body to a stiff collar that she wore around
her throat.
Catwoman could feel that her legs were similarly encased and forced together by
a rubber sheath, reinforced by additional straps around her ankles, and her
knees. Her bondage was completed by a foul tasting rubber ball stuffed into her
mouth and kept in place by a tight leather strap around her head.
	Catwoman could hear the dull drone of propeller driven aircraft engines. At
least they had not cut off her sense of hearing. However, Catwoman soon realised
that she could hear little else over the loud drone of the engines. She did not
know if she was alone, or if she was being watched, or if even anyone was flying
the plane. For a brief moment, she panicked when she thought that she might have
been left in a pilotless air-craft on a highly detrimental collision course with
the ground. She quickly calmed herself down, and settled down to wait. Waiting
had become a consistent feature in her life as a captive. When you are helpless,
there was nothing else you can do.
	Catwoman did not have to wait long. Someone must have noticed that she is now
conscious. She suddenly felt a hand resting on her right breast, and squeezing
it hard. She let out an involuntary groan through her gag. The hand was removed.
She was being tested to see if she was awake. Catwoman felt a pair of arms grab
her legs, and lifted them upwards. She gasped. She felt her legs being secured
to something above her, such that her buttocks were now lifted off the ground,
and she was resting on the upper part of her back. She felt the strap between
her legs loosened, and allowed to fall away from her vulva. 
	A hand then started to probe her vulva, then her ass-hole. It pulled the PVC
covering her ass-hole, and she felt rather than heard the thrust of a knife into
the material over her ass-hole, and the ripping of the material upwards over her
vulva. She felt a sudden chill in her vulva and ass-hole area, and realised that
she was now exposed completely. She struggled against this degradation, but her
bonds kept her helpless. All she could do was writhed and wriggle. This she
knew, would probably arouse her captor more than deter him.
	A sharp pain shot through her vulva. She screamed into her gag. It took her a
while to realise what was happening. Then, a second pain shot through the same
area. She whimpered. She knew that she was being whipped in her vulva. She could
ever tell what the whip was. It was her whip. They were using her own weapon
against her. Another pain shot through her. She shuddered, and waited for the
next blow.
	It did not come. Instead, she suddenly felt a rough, blunt object probing her
vulva. She gasped again. She knew what was happening. Her torturer was using the
handle of her whip as a dildo. It was pushed,  rammed, and shoved up her dry
vagina, causing laceration and much pain. She screamed into her gag once more,
but the torturer persisted until she could feel a long, hard object deep within
her. Involuntarily, she began to weep. At this point, the torturer  stopped, but
did not withdraw the improvised dildo. Instead, Catwoman heard the ripping of
sticky tape, then felt the tape applied over her vulva in a cross, holding the
whip in place inside her. Then, she was left alone for a long time with the whip
handle deep inside her. 

Chapter 4

	Catwoman was startled awoke when she felt the hard object inside her suddenly
pulled out. She screamed into her gag, and writhed in agony. Her legs were let
down, stiff and painful. She felt her legs being unstrapped, then the sheath
binding them together was rolled down her legs, until they were free. Almost as
soon as the sheath was off, she felt manacles being snap over her booted ankles.
The strap connected to the mitten of her arm-binder was once again passed
between her legs and strapped to the other straps in front of her. She felt the
roughness of the strap brushing against her wounded vulva, causing her much
pain.
	“Get up!” came a harsh order. A man’s voice. She felt a yank on her collar. Her
captor must have attached a chain to her collar. 
	As Catwoman got painfully onto her feat, realised that the plane must have
landed, for it was very quiet. There was no motion of an air-craft in the air.
She was led blindly forward by the chain pulling her. The manacles on her ankles
were connected by a short chain, so short that she could do no more than shuffle
forward at very small paces. She stopped when she felt the pull on the chain
slackened. A pair of hands grabbed her arms, and turned her roughly to her left. 
	Catwoman felt the light breeze blow into the plane. She could smell wet
vegetation in the breeze. It also felt cool. She guessed that it must be night,
and wherever she was, it did not smelt anywhere like the temperate climate and
vegetation of Gotham City. It smelt tropical.
	Catwoman felt a powerful shove pushing her forward. She desperately tried to
regain her balance, but her arm-binder and the leg irons hindered her, and she
felt herself falling forward into emptiness. She panicked again, before landing
heavily onto an object that felt like a mattress. She heard voices shout around
her, in Spanish. She could only catch a little of what was said. The cargo was
on board, let’s go.
	Catwoman heard an engine start up, and felt a jerking and forward motion. She
must be on a truck of some sort. She tried to get up, but felt a booted feet on
her back, pushing her down. She got the idea. She was to stay down. Be a good
girl and lay still while a truck brings her to her fate. Once gain, she was
struck by a dread that only absolute helplessness could bring. She was no longer
the determinant of her own fate.
	
        The truck came to a stop. A foot turned Catwoman on her back. She felt
herself being lifted off the back of a truck, thrown over a shoulder like a sack
of potato, and carried off. She was carried for quite a distance, which include
climbing up some steps, and going down a long flight of stair-case, before she
was dumped unceremoniously onto the ground. 
        “On your feet.” A male voice ordered in English. She felt a jerk on the
chain connected to her collar, pulling her to her feet. She got up unsteadily.
She felt the chain being pulled, leading her forward. She tried to keep up with
her shuffling steps. She was led for a distance. Then she heard an iron door
being opened in front of her. She guessed that she had come to the end of her
journey. She was led forward again, then the pull on the chain slackened. Then,
she was pushed violently against a wall, then forced onto her knees. She felt an
iron bar passed behind her knees, and pressed down, holding her lower legs onto
the ground. She felt the bar pushed into place, and locked. She was now held
down onto her knees, her legs parted. She felt the strap between her legs undid.
Then, a hard object was pushed into her vagina, causing her gasp. She felt it
pushed in as far as it would go, then felt a chastity belt strapped around her
waist. She heard a switch being click on between her legs, and the thing in her
started to come to life, vibrating. She screamed into her gag.
        Catwoman then felt the strap across her breasts undone. A hand pulled on
the PVC material over the right breast. Then came the sound of the thrust of a
knife into the PVC, and the ripping of the material. She felt a chill over her
right breast. The process was repeated on her left breast, exposing both of
them. Then, she felt the coldness of a steel bar slide under her breasts, and
thrust up under them. Another bar was then pressed down on her breasts from
above. Catwoman realised that someone was applying a breast press on her
breasts. She felt the two bars tightening together, squeezing her breasts. She
forgot about the thing worming around in her vagina. The pain from her breasts
dominated her thought now. It was not the end of her torment. She felt something
being clipped onto each of her nipples. There was a sudden strain on her
nipples, and she felt her breasts being pulled down. 
        “They must have attached weights to my nipples.” Catwoman thought in
anguish. 
        Catwoman felt herself pushed against a post. Straps were then secured
around her body and the post, securing her to the post, keeping her up-right on
her knees.
        “Sleep well, Catwoman.” Mocked a man’s voice, followed by the sound of a
heavy steel door being slammed shut. Catwoman was left alone with her torments.
        
Chapter 5
        
        Despite the pains on her breasts, her nipples, and in her vagina,
somehow, Catwoman drifted off into an uneasy slumber. She was rudely awoken by a
slap across her right cheek.
        “Wake up, slave!” came a brutal command.
        Catwoman felt the breast press removed from her chest, then the weighted
nipple clamps. The bar across the back of her knee was removed, and she was
pulled up onto her feet. Her legs were pulled apart, and she felt something
being strap onto each of her ankles. When she tried to draw her legs together,
she found them spread apart by some thing in between.
        “It’s a leg spreader, bitch.” 
        Someone laughed. 
        Catwoman was still in the arm-sheath that held her arms tightly
together. Her arms were lifted up, forcing her to bend forward. She felt the
chastity belt around her waist being undone, and the vibrator in her vagina
pulled violently out. She gasped into her gag.
        “You haven’t seen nothing yet.”
        No sooner had the vibrator being pulled out of her vagina, she felt
another object being thrust up her pussy. It was even larger than the one that
had been removed.
        “This one runs on batteries.” She was informed.
        She felt another chastity belt being tightened around her waist. Then,
there was a tug on her collar, and she was once again led off like an animal. 
        
        Catwoman was led through a seemingly winding path, now going right, now
going left, sometimes even back-tracking. She always tried desperately to keep
up, but the leg-spreaders hindered her movement, and the huge vibrator in her
vagina made walking painful. Eventually, they stopped. She was pushed forward a
few steps, and then stopped. She heard a door closing behind her, and then, her
blind-fold was removed. 
        Catwoman blinked for a few seconds, trying to focus her eyes. It was
difficult after having been kept blind-folded for so long. Eventually, her eyes
could focus again, and she could look around her. She saw several long, narrow
iron gibbets around a small room, suspended from the ceiling. Each gibbet
contained a woman. Each of the woman were tall, long-limbed and beautiful. All
of them were naked, except for chastity belts worn around their loins, the
head-harness around their head that held bit gags tightly between their jaws,
and a tight - very, very tight - corset around their waist. The corsets had cups
for the women’s breasts, but the cups were made out of wire-meshes, and because
they fit tightly over the women’s breasts, the flesh of the breasts were
squeezed through the mesh into tiny moulds of flesh. Each of the women were
moaning from their torment, and they looked at the new arrival with wild,
bewildered eyes. They tugged at the leather bonds that bind their hands to their
thighs, but the iron bands of the gibbets kept them virtually immobile.
        Catwoman, grasping the fate that awaits her struggled against her bonds
and her captors, but she was too well bound, too weak to put up more than a
token resistance of erotic writhing. She was brought to the centre of the room,
where several leather straps hung down from the ceiling. One of the leather
straps had a stiff leather collar hanging at one end. Another had what looked
like a corset attached to its end. The others had leather cuffs attached to
them. Her own collar was removed, and that leather collar strapped around her
neck. It was so long that it forced her head up, holding it immobile. She could
only glance down to see what her captors were doing to her next. 
        Her legs were lifted up off the ground, and leather cuffs were bound
around her ankles, strapped and locked. The leg spreaders were then removed, but
the leather straps kept her legs wide apart . The corset was then wrapped around
her waist, and laced up, holding her waist tightly in its embrace. She was now
held in a horizontal position, legs apart, almost as if she was laying on her
back, but suspended in mid-air. Her captors now attached leather straps to
D-rings on the cuffs around her ankles, on her corset and the thick neck collar.
These straps were then hooked to rings on the floor, securely anchoring her,
keeping her stable despite her desperate struggle with her bonds. 
        “Is she ready?” asked a familiar voice. 
        Catwoman glanced out of the corner of her eyes, and saw the familiar
shaped of the man in the wheel-chair. Except that he was wearing a dressing gown
this time. He manoeuvred the wheel chair to a position in front of her feet. The
men who had secured her in the horizontal suspension went up to him. They hooked
up some sort of harness to a block sliding on a railing mounted on the ceiling.
They lifted up the man from his wheel-chair, and strapped the harness around
him, which suspended him in a standing position. They gave him a small little
black box, then turned and left the room.
        The man chuckled when he looked at the exposed crotch of Catwoman. He
pressed a button on the black box, and immediately he began to move forward
along the railing, until he was brought up to Catwoman’s position. He reached
out a hand and touched her vulva. Catwoman struggled and cursed into her gag,
but her bonds held her tightly. She looked down in horror as he probed her
vagina with his fingers. He then reached forward and grabbed the round, firm
moulds of her breasts. He began to massage and rubbed them gently, playing his
fingers over her nipples. She began to feel aroused in spite of herself.
        “No!” she pleaded into her gag as she feel herself began to convulse.
Then, she felt something warm, stiff and hard began to probe her vulva. She
realised with horror that it was the man’s penis. It was rammed home suddenly,
and jerked to and fro violently several times. She screamed in pain as the penis
worked itself into her vagina. She convulsed in her suspension and struggled,
weeping and cursing as the man worked his penis. At last, she felt a jet of
fluid sprayed into her. The man gave a sigh, and withdrew his penis, leaving her
sobbing. The man pressed the button on the black box again, and he receded away
from her view. She heard the guards came in again, and saw them undo the harness
from her rapist. He was settled back into his arm chair and he turned around and
left the room, a satisfied smile still on his face. 
        As for his rape victim, she was removed from her suspension position
quickly. She was still weak from her rape, but she was dragged up to an empty
gibbet against one of the walls. She struggled weakly as they swung open the
hinged top half of the gibbet like the cover of a box. Her arm binder was
removed, but her wrists were immediately secured in leather cuffs. Leather cuffs
were then secured to her thigh. These cuffs were pushed all the way up until
they met her crotch. Her wrist cuffs were then attached to the thigh cuffs,
strapping her hands tightly to her thigh. 
        Catwoman was bent over, exposing her anus to the men. They pushed
something large and hard into her anus, causing her to scream into her gag.
        “We don’t want you to defecate all over the floor, do we?” mocked one of
her guards. Another large, long object was then inserted into her vagina and
pushed up, causing her to scream once again in pain. Both items were then kept
in position inside her with a tight leather chastity belt. 
        “Now for the waist clincher.” 
        A tight iron-ribbed black leather corset was wrapped around her waist,
and it was tightly laced up behind her back. Catwoman felt the corset wrap
itself tightly around her, forcing her waist in, and preventing her from
breathing properly. She could only breathe in short breaths. The iron mesh cups
of the corset was fitted over her breasts, but they were too small, and the mesh
ate into the flesh of her full breasts. She groaned in agony. She was then
placed into the gibbet, and the top half was then swung shut over her. She felt
the bands of iron fit tightly over her body, holding them tightly in an iron
embrace. 
        “You might as well get comfortable, seeing how you would be here for
quite a while.” Said one of the men. He flipped a switch on the wall next to her
gibbet. The objects in both her vagina and anus started to vibrate violently.
She realised to her horror what they were. She began to convulse and moan as the
men left the room, swinging the iron door shut behind them. 
        
Chapter 6
        
        Catwoman’s captivity became a routine. They would come in once in a
while and remove the gag from mouth, and place feeding tubes in her mouth
through which she could suck in liquid food. This not only keeps her in a
weakened state, but also eliminates the need to defecate. Once she finished
feeding, the gag was placed in her mouth again and tightened.
        They would remove open a zip in the chastity belt, and allow her to
relieve her bowels into a tube which led into a bottle. This was done, so
Catwoman assumed, daily. At the very least, she began to think of time in terms
of when she was fed and allowed to urinate. 
        Catwoman that after every three times she was fed, she was removed from
the gibbet, properly gagged. They brought her to the centre of the room, undo
her bonds, then pull her arms over her head, and secured the wrists to the
leather straps hanging down from the ceiling. Her legs were then spread apart,
and anchored to rings on the floor. When she has been properly spread-eagled,
they removed the corset, chastity belt and the two vibrators. She was then
washed with a water hose and scrubbed. After that, she was left to dry out for a
while before the various items were replaced, and she was placed back into the
gibbet again. 
	For Catwoman, the concept of time has lost all meaning. Her life devolved to a
series of events in which her body was maintained, but her mind was allowed to
slowly wallow away in an environment totally lacking in stimulus. They had added
an extra dimension to her torture after she had resisted the attempt of one of
the guards to grope her with a kick to the groin. They fitted a punishment hood
over her head that completely cut off all sight and sound. She was plunged into
a dark-silent world, from which she was not removed even when she was fed and
washed. With the hood, she became even more unconscious of the passage of time,
and eventually, of her own individuality. With the loss of her sense of self,
she ceased to struggle in attempts to regain her freedom. 
	After what seemed like an eternity for Catwoman, the punishment hood was at
last removed from her head, after she had been removed from the gibbet. At first
she thought that they were going to bath her again, but instead of
spread-eagling her as usual, she was forced onto her knees, and her arms pulled
behind her back. A black latex arm sheath was slipped over her arms, and she
felt it being lace up tightly, forcing her arms to come together. Two straps
from the top of the sheath were then passed over her shoulders, then under her
arm pits back to the sheath, and buckled securely. The straps would keep the arm
sheath from slipping down her arms. 
	Catwoman was then pulled up onto her feet. Her captors wrap a latex hobble
skirt around her waist, and buckled it behind her back. Her legs were closed
together, and the skirt laced up. The skirt had two large holes in the back
where her buttocks were, and these were exposed as the skirt was laced up fully.
She found that she could only take very small steps in the skirt, and even then,
she had to strain against the heavy material of the skirt. To add to the
difficulty and discomfort in walking, her captors had not removed the two
vibrators deep within her, held in place by the chastity belt. They were no
longer vibrator, but their sheer size made it painful for her to walk or even
bend over. 
	Catwoman’s captors had also left her in her corset, which continued to squeeze
her waist to an agonising smallness, with the iron mesh of the breast cups
eating into the flesh of her breasts. The bit gag were still fitted to her
mouth. Instead of attaching a collar and a leash to Catwoman’s throat, her
captors attach a rein to the rings on the sides of her bit gag. This was then
pulled forward. Catwoman was forced to follow. She stumbled a little at first as
they led her out of the room, but soon, she could balance quite well.
	Catwoman was led to a fairly large room. The floor was laid with saw-dust, and
the four walls white-washed. There were no windows, the only light coming from
fluorescent lights  mounted in the ceiling. There was a metallic pillar in the
centre of the room, from which a long pole was extended horizontally over the
floor. She was led up to the end of the long pole. She noticed with unease that
it had a long leash attached to it. Sure enough, her captors attached her reins
to the leash. They then removed her hobble skirt. Then, even before she could
guess what would transpire, she heard the sound of a motor being started, and
the pole starting to move. The pillar began to rotate, turning the pole with it,
like the hand of a clock. She had to walk forward to follow it as the leash
pulled on the reins. 
	The pole began to move faster, and she was forced to follow it with a smart
trot. It was difficult with the dildos still within her, and the corset still
tightly holding on to her waist, preventing her from breathing normally. Very
quickly, she became short of breath, and stumbled. She fell flat on her face,
moaning.
	“Get up!” came a command. 
	Catwoman felt the sharp sting of a whip on the right cheek of her buttocks. She
looked up, shocked, to see one of her captors wielding a whip. He was cracking
it again, and it fell neatly on the left cheek of her buttocks. She winced,
climbed up with difficulty, and the pole started to move again, this time even
faster. This process continued for a few times before finally, she could take it
no more, and fell forward, unconscious.
	At this point, Catwoman’s corset was unlaced and removed. A bucket of cold
water was thrown onto her to wake her up. She moaned and slowly recovered, at
which point she was once again pulled onto her feet and the process started
again. This time, Catwoman was able to keep up relatively well. She ran until
she was covered with perspiration. It was the first exercise she had for a long
time, and despite the pain between her legs, she felt good when at last they
stopped. 
	The reins were untied from the leash, and Catwoman was led out of the room. She
was brought back to the room where she had been imprisoned for so long. She was
released form the arm-sheath, and once again spread-eagled upright, when she was
washed again with powerful jets of cold water and hung out to dry. When she
dried, Her hands were strapped to her thighs again, but the corset was not
replaced. Much to her relieve, the chastity belt was removed as well and not
replaced with something else. For the first time in a long time, there was
nothing plugged into her vagina or anus. She was pushed back into the gibbet,
and shut into it.

	Over the next few “days”, the process was repeated, when she was made to run in
circles in the large room. Eventually, another exercise was added. A new machine
was added to the large room. It took the form of a seat with a steel rack behind
the seat. There were two sets of weights behind the rack, lifted by a pair of
handles in front of the rack through a pair of pulleys at the top of the rack. A
pair of handcuffs were secured to each of the handle. 
	Catwoman was brought to the rack. She saw that there were two dildos fitted to
the seat. She recoiled, but was held firmly by her captors, and placed onto the
seat. The dildos were rammed into her firmly. A strap was ran over her thighs to
hold her down onto the seat. Another was secured over her hips to hold her
against the back of the seat. Her ankles were each strap to a front leg of the
seat. Her hands were then secured to the handcuffs. The machine was then
explained to her.
	“The dildos will be switched on in a moment’s time. If the weights are not
lifted within a second, the dildos will start vibrating violently. If they do
not touch the top of the rack quickly enough, they will start vibrating. If they
stay at the top of the rack for too long, they will start vibrating too. If you
do not keep pulling them up and down, you can be sure that the dildos will be
very busy indeed.”
	And so, she was left on the machine, lifting the weights by pulling the
handles. At first, she was able to keep the dildos within her from vibrating,
but eventually, when she got too tired, the dildos were activated now and then
when she could not keep up the pace necessary to prevent them from vibrating. At
last, when she was completely exhausted and could do no more to lift the
weights, the dildos ran wild within her, causing her to writhe in agony and
ecstasy until she felt herself become wet. She noticed with humiliation and
hatred as her guards laughed at her struggles.
	This new exercise was added to her exercise. They also added another dimension
to her running exercise. She was made to wear a chastity belt when she ran. A
large dildo was fitted to the belt and inserted into her vagina. Wires ran from
the belt to the leash via a spring switch to which she had been tied. If she ran
to slowly, and the leash became taut, the spring switch was activated and the
dildo came to violent life, and would stimulate her. Again, it was possible to
keep pace with the machine at the beginning, but once she became too exhausted,
the dildo came to life more and more often until at last when she could no
longer run, it ran continuously within her, transforming her into a groaning,
wetting wreck. 

Chapter 7

	After what seemed like weeks of such treatment, Catwoman was mentally and
physically exhausted. The feeding, the cleaning, the exercising all assumed a
regularity upon which her numb mind has grown accustomed and attached to. With
the denial of any other simulation and activities, those activities are the only
ones her sanity hook on to. Even the torture of the vibrating dildos within her
became a welcomed sensation. Everything about her captivity has assumed a
positive value, even the bonds in which they place her in. She found them
strangely … secure.
	However, just as Catwoman’s mind became accustomed to the maltreatments to her
body, her captors designed a whole new level of torture for her body. The
suddenness in which they changed her routine played a part in the breaking her
sense of security, and weakened the tenuous hold she has on her own sanity. They
were obviously determined to reduce her to a mindless, helpless wreck. 
	When they came in that “morning”. (Catwoman no longer had a normal sense of
time - morning was when they wake her up for her first feeding in the cycle of
feeding, excreting, washing and exercising.) She was removed from her gibbet as
usual after being fed. She was washed, then brought out of the room. At first,
she thought they were bringing her to the exercise room as usual, but instead,
they made a turn too soon, and brought her into a darkened room. In the centre
of the room was a spot-lighted area. Even at the entrance, Catwoman could feel
the heat of the light. In the centre of the room was a table of some sort. It
resembled the character ‘Y’, with the split end facing the door. It was lined
with straps and buckles. 
	Catwoman blinked with incomprehension as she was dragged to the centre of the
room. She saw several items on the table. There was a cat-suit, which she dimly
recall was like her old costume which had been cut off her so long ago. This
one, however, seemed thicker and stiffer, although it had an equally shiny black
PVC surface. The waist of the suit was fitted with a corset which she recognised
more readily. It was like the corset she had worn in her captivity in the gibbet
until quite recently, except that instead of being a laced up job, it had a
heavy duty zipper in front, that tightens it or loosens it. There were straps to
the side of the corset. The sleeves of the cat-suit ended up in mittens with
straps running from the tips.
	There was another item next to the cat-suit. It was a helmet of some sort, made
out of the same thick and stiff latex material the cat-suit was made out of. She
realised that it had something odd about it. It took her awhile to realise that
it had pointed ears on top. It resembled the mask that she wore. At this point,
she realised that they had never taken off her mask, that she was still wearing
it, but this point has long ceased to have significance. The secret of her
identity was pointless when they hold her body captive, to do as they wish. She
shuddered when she realised that the mask had no eye-holes, nor any holes for
breathing through the nose. Instead, there was mouth-piece in which there was a
hole. A long flexible black tube ran from the hole. 
	“So, what do you think?” said a familiar voice. She was turned around to face
the entrance. She recognised her captor and rapist in the wheel chair. He had an
evil grin on his face. She mumbled something inaudible into her gag, but her
murderous look said it all.
	“Still a feisty one huh?” the man said, laughing, “Put her into the suit.”
	Her existing bonds were removed, but any thoughts of struggling was removed
when she felt the a numbing shock shoot through her body. They had used a stun
gun on her. She collapsed, and was laid down onto the floor. Her gag and
chastity belt, which had been such constant companions for her for so long, was
removed. She lay naked on the table, except for the cat mask. They began to put
the cat-suit on her. The latex was so thick and stiff that it was a difficult
task even for the two strong guards, but eventually, they managed to get it onto
her. They turned her to her side, and zipped up the suit, encasing her in a
latex prison. They place her arms against her body, and strap it to her body
using the straps on the sides of the corset. They then crossed her arms in front
of her, and loop the straps running from the tips of the mittens around her
neck, and securing each of the straps to the opposite mitten. She noticed that
while the rest of her body was rapidly heating up, being encased in latex, her
crotch region was still cool. She realised that that part of her body was
uncovered. 
	She was then place neatly onto the table. The top of the table was shaped such
that if conformed to the shape of her body, holding the lower part of her body
like a cradle. Her legs were spread. She was then strap down tightly onto the
table, so tightly that she could not move. Seven straps were used on each of her
legs, starting from the ankles up to the crotch, to hold her legs, and another
seven were secured over her body. She felt senses returning to her body, and she
struggled with her bonds, but so tightly was she strap down that she could not
even writhe. 
	The thick mask was fitted over her head, and then zipped up behind her. All
light and sound was instantaneously cut off, plunging her into a world of
darkness and silence. All sense were deprived in the thick latex prison, except
for the sensation of great heat. It was terrifying and claustrophobic. Catwoman
tried to break free, but the cat-suit and straps combined to hold her immobile
and helpless. At last, she screamed a terrified, terrible primordial scream. The
scream was audible outside of her latex prison through the tube in her mouth.
Her captors laughed aloud.

Chapter 8
	
	Catwoman’s life took a drastic turn for the worse. Her mind slowly slipped away
in the darkness and silence. Her only contact with the outside world was through
the breathing tube … and her crotch. For a long period of time, she was left in
the claustrophobic darkness and silence of her tight, latex prison. The darkness
and silence slowly gnawed into her mind. The deprivation of senses worked to
disorientate her mind, driving her slowly towards a mindless state. 
        Then, Catwoman felt the hardness of something probing her vagina. This
sudden intrusion into her senseless world was greeted with ecstasy and delirium.
It was not a dildo, she realised, for it was warm. A warm tip exploring the
entrance to her vagina. She began to squirm and writhe, but the straps held her
tightly and firmly. She could do nothing to assist the probing object into her
despite her desperation for it. She craved for its sensory stimulation, but it
merely stayed at the gate, teasing her by rubbing against her clitoris and the
lips of her vulva, tantalising her and causing her to begin wetting. 
        “Fuck me! Fuck me!” she pleaded, but it was inaudible outside of her
latex prison. 
        Suddenly, it was gone, as suddenly as it came. Selina was plunged back
into a dark, silent, sensually barren world.
        
        Wild dreams and imagination filled her mind. She struggled to keep a
grip on her sanity, but it was a losing battle. It became harder and harder to
focus on reality as her mind kept slipping into the realm of fantasies and
nightmares. Her former life became more and more distant. Sometimes she wondered
if it was ever real. She could not imagine a life not involving her latex prison
anymore. It was almost as if the things she had done had been nothing but
dreams. Her former dominatrix self, the self-confident, able and independent
self seems to be a mere figment of her imagination with no basis in this reality
of latex enforced helplessness and sexual vulnerability. Who was she? She could
no longer answer that. It did not matter to her. What mattered only was that she
be allowed to feel something. She even prayed for some sort of sensual
stimulation. 
        It came after some time. This time, it did not simply probe her vulva,
but began to slide itself into her vagina. She was almost wild with joy,
enjoying the warm hardness of the penis as it slide into her. She sighed as it
slide in  and out, slowly, until she felt herself going into an orgasm, but
before she could release herself, the penis was removed, and she was left with
an unreleased sensation, adding to her discomfort.
        “Come back!” she screamed, more in her mind than audibly, but it did not
hear. It was gone, leaving her with her lust. 
	The next few times she was raped, the same thing occurred. She was brought up
to the point of release, but not quite, and she was then denied the release. She
was frustrated and felt totally uncomfortable, but she could do nothing to bring
about release. It added even more to her torture. It became a regular issue in
her mind : that release. It became a holy grail for her, something that she seek
desperately. That release of the tension in her crotch was all she could think
about, and it was denied her. Her bondage position in which her legs were spread
wide open did not help at all. It only increased her lust as even the lightest
draft against her exposed clitoris could excite her but never release her. 
	It was some time before she was allowed to release fully, but it was not
accomplished by a penis. A dildo was used. It was a large dildo that only barely
fitted into her vagina, but this very size filled her with pleasure as it was
slipped into her. She even ignored the pain it caused her as it was pushed in
much too deep. All she could think of was the release it triggered in her. The
pain mixed with the pleasure and became part of it. It was pushed in and out -
very violently - several times, triggering more orgasm each time it was thrust
in. She sighed in pleasure. When it was withdrawn, she felt a cool and sticky
sensation on her vulva. She did not realise it but it was her semen mixed with
blood. The whole event was recorded on video, and her bloodied vulva was closely
captured on video and photographs. For the moment, she did not know all these,
that her pain and pleasure were recorded for some perverse purpose. All she
could think of was the pleasure. 

	In the sterile sensory environment she was living in, she became more and more
obsessed with her vagina. All she could think about was the feel of a warm penis
within her. Sex - violent sex - became very important to her, something she
could not do without. When, after that time she was allowed to release,  the
penis stopped coming for some time, she could feel herself panicking. She began
begging. Of course her voice was incomprehensible with the mouth-piece fitted
over her mouth, but the men outside understood, and laughed that the once
defiant Catwoman was now reduced to begging to be raped. And they did not give
her what she wanted. It was part of the brain-washing process. 
	It was only after what seemed like a long period of time that she was obliged,
but in a very violent and painful way. She was released from the table, and
brought to the back of the room. Her arms were then released from the crossed
position in front of her chest, and then stretched out upwards. Her wrists were
then secured by manacles dangling from chains attached to the ceiling. Her legs
were then lifted off the ground (such that her entire body weight was taken up
at the wrists, inducing pain in them), lifted upwards and then spread outwards.
Each leg was then manacled … to the wrists, such that her whole weight is still
taken up by at the wrists. Even this great, new pain at her wrists were
something she welcomed. It was a new sensation. Something her mind could hold
onto and experience. It added to a perverse kind of pleasure. Slowly, her
concept of what is pleasurable is becoming mixed with what is painful. 
	The cat-o-nine-tails landed on her vulva. A powerful, searing pain short
through her. She screamed into her tube. Was that laughter she heard through the
thickness of her helmet? She did not know, and did not care as suddenly, she
felt a penis probe her vulva, then plunged straight into her. She sighed with
pleasure. It was withdrawn again. Another blow from the whip landed on her
vulva, causing her to scream again. Again, the sensation of pain was almost
immediately replaced by that of the pleasure of a penis plunging into her. This
was done again and again until she achieved orgasm. Then the whole process was
stopped. She then felt something cool applied to her vulva, and it felt numb for
a while afterwards. Unknown to her, her vulva was a mess of red marks and
bruises. Again, everything was caught on film and negatives. When they were done
with her, she was lowered onto the ground and unbound. Her arms were returned to
their crossed position in front of her chest, but something different was done.
Her legs were strapped together, and she was laid on the ground instead of being
placed back onto the table. She was able to writhe and turn on the floor of her
cell instead of being held completely motionless on the table. She did not
understand what was happening, but welcomed the change. Then she felt a collar
being strap around her neck, and when she tried to move, there was a tag on the
collar. She understood then that there was to be a limit to her “freedom”. For
now, she was simply allowed to writhe around, bend and unbend her body, but not
move anywhere. 

	It was quite a while before they came for her again. She was lifted up onto her
feet, and dragged forward. She was dragged to a wooden horse, and laid over it
on her stomach. Her legs were unstrapped and spread outwards, then secured by
manacles to two legs of the wooden horse. Her arms were then released, and
stretched out too before being manacled to the other two legs of the horse. She
was now bound in such a way that her buttocks were pointed up, and her vulva
fully exposed. She lay waiting patiently, not even struggling with her bonds.
Her captors noted this passivity with approval. 
	Then it came. As with the last time, the pain came first. A sharp agonising
sting across both cheeks of her buttocks. She screamed into her tube, both in
agony and ecstasy. Almost immediately, she started to go into orgasm. Her vagina
began to wet. Then she felt a penis plunge deep into her, violently and
painfully. She moaned. Almost immediately, it was pulled out again, and another
blow delivered onto her buttocks, followed quickly by the penis. She shuddered
and sighed. By the third blow and penetration, she was going into orgasm. As the
penis came into her, she raise her buttocks and pushed sharply into the penis,
felling it reach into her. She sighed as the penis released its semen into her,
and she in turn released. She slumped onto the wooden horse, limp and exhausted.
They left her in this position for a while, before they came back again. Again,
she responded to the whip and the penis with almost mad lust. When they finally
released her from the wooden horse, her buttocks and vagina were raw, and she
found it painful to sit on them. It was thus all the better that she was left in
a hog-tied position. Her arms were placed in an arm-sheath strapped over her
shoulders, and her legs cramped together into a leg sheath, which was strapped
to belt secured around her waist. Her legs were then bent, and a D-ring at the
tip of the leg sheath attached by a pair of handcuffs to the a similar D-ring at
the tip of her arm sheath.

	She was no longer resistant to her captors, but allowed them to manipulate her,
torch her and use her as they wished. In deed, she welcomed her abuse. When she
was released from her hog-tie, she did not make any move at struggle even when
they left her unbound. It was judged that she was ready for the final treatment.
She was brought to a tiny room where there was a heavy wooden chair with a high
back and arm rests. It looked a bit like an electric chair, and indeed wires can
be seen to run from the bottom of the seat. There were two large dildos on top
of the seat, both shiny and black, with metallic studs, designed to cause great
pain. Even as they push her onto the dildos, one entering her vagina, the other
her anus, she  felt the studs scrap the vulnerable walls of those organs, and
she felt pain, and lust at the same time. They seemed to large to enter her, and
yet, she felt the walls of her vagina and anus stretch to accommodate them until
she could feel their hugeness in her. She then felt a strap pulled over the
upper part of her thighs, securing her down onto the dildos. Another two straps
was secured over her abdomen, and under her breasts to secure her to the back of
the chair. Her arms were then placed onto the arm rest. Her wrists were secured
by leather cuffs to the arm rest. Another pair of leather cuffs were looped
around her upper arms, above the elbows, securing them to the back of the chair.
Her legs were placed together - an act which cause some pain because of the
objects in her - and strap together, then cuffed to a bar that ran between the
two front legs of the chair. Her head was then tilt back into a sort of bowl,
which held the sides of the head such that she could only look forward. A
leather strap was then secured over her fore-head to keep her head in the bowl.
She was now totally unable to move in the chair. 
	Then she felt a hand on her face. She felt it move to the sides of her head,
over the temple. The latex material was lifted over her right temple, and she
head a ripping sound and realised that an incision had been made. She felt the
sharp tip of metal probing the side of her head, then the sound of a pair of
scissors being used. Suddenly, a slit appeared before her right eye, and she
blinked at the light. The process was repeated over her left eyes until she
could see through tiny slits in her eyes. After being in the dark for so long,
the lights were blinding. She also felt the latex material on the side of her
head being pulled, and something soft sandwiched between the material and her
ears. She heard a static sound, and realised that they were ear-phones. 
        What were they doing? Her eyes darted around in bewilderment. All she
could see was a blank wall in front of her. Suddenly, a rectangle of light was
projected onto the wall. White noise suddenly filled her head as the earphones
came to life. Then images started to flash across the screen. Each images was on
the screen for less than a second, unable for her to form a clear picture of
what it was, but nevertheless long enough for her sub-conscious mind to register
the content. After having been deprived of sight for so long, the movie was
fascinating and it held her attention. She did not realise that she was looking
at a series of images and short footages of her kidnapping and captivity,
sniplets of her rapes and tortures. Inserted between the images were subliminal
messages telling her how much she had enjoyed being raped and tortured, that she
was a wanton slug and a slave. With increasing frequency, the images and
messages were flashed across the screen, forming type of throbbing mess that
fused itself into her brain. Her eyes being became fixed and glassed over, and
her breathing became shallow. Sounds began to enter into her head through the
ear-phones, at first whispers indistinguishable from the white noise, then
slowly louder and louder, faster and faster until they became screeches and
shouts, telling her that she was a slave, and that she must obey. She must obey.
She must obey. She must obey. At that point, the dildos inside her started up,
flooding her with pain and pleasure at the same time. The very hugeness of the
dildos caused great pain, even without the scrapping motion of the studs. The
images in front of her flashed even more urgently, now tinted a bright red. The
sounds in her ears became a high pitch scream. Then she screamed. She screamed
long and hard until she passed out.
        
Chapter 9
        
        She climbed the wall quickly and skillfully, moving as stealthily and
easily as a cat. She was dressed entirely in black latex. She wore a shiny PVC
helmet on her head, which covered her entire head, except for two small eye
holes and the two holes for her nostrils. Over her torso, she wore a high-necked
latex body-suit, which revealed her legs up to her hips. The body suit had two
large triangular holes in front, one pointing down, and the other up, placed
such that it held her ample breasts, but did not prevent the top and bottom of
her cleavage from being revealed. She wore elbow length gloves and thigh-length
boots. On her neck was a thick leather collar of some sort. Around her narrow
waist, she wore a leather belt to which was attached a number of pouches and a
long bull-whip.
        She climbed to the top of the building, and perched on the edge of the
roof, while she scanned the roof. She knew that there were motion detectors
interspersed around the roof. Taking the whip into her hand as she located one,
she lifted up her right arm, and brought it down, causing the whip to lunge
forward like a snake, smashing the plastic covered detector to bits without
setting it off. She repeated the process until she had a clear path to a
sky-light. 
        The sky-light was defended by a tremor sensor. If it was opened or
shaken violently, the sensor would set an alarm off. Of course, such a device
must tolerate “normal” vibrations so as not to be set off by the lightest of
wind. It is set to detect sudden and violent vibrations, such as that when the
glass is broken. 
        She took a black box out from one of the pouches and rested it carefully
onto the glass. She then flipped a switch and stepped back. The box began to
emit a sharp pitch but barely audible sound. She observe with satisfaction as
the glass in the skylight slowly begin to tremble. The trembling increase at
such a slow rate that it fail to set off the alarm. As long as the trembling
increase at a slow rate, the sensor will not be set off. The glass shattered,
and she stepped forward and switched off the box, replacing it in her pouch. She
waited, but no alarm was raised. Reassured, she took out a coil of strong but
thin steel cable, loop it around a nearby exhaust pipe, and threw the cable down
the sky-light. Attaching the steel cable to a clamp attached to her belt, she
dropped through the sky-light. The clamp slowed down her descent to a safe rate.
In a few moments, she was on the floor of the Gotham Museum of the Fine Arts,
right next to one of their most valuable exhibits - an ancient Chinese jade cat
of the finest quality. 
        It was encased in a glass box set on a pedestal - no doubt wired.
Underneath her mask, she smiled. She took out glass cutter and cut a circular
piece out of the top of the box. She grabbed the statue, and dropped it into a
padded bag around her neck. As she expected, the alarm was immediately set off.
She closed the bag and crossed it across her body, then started running towards
a near-by fire-exit. Even as she neared it, a guard came running up. He did not
even see her as she jumped into the air and deliver a flying kick into his
temple. He fell to the ground, unconscious. She did not even stop running. 
        A second guard came round a corner, gun in his hand. He did not have it
for long as she snapped her whip and the tip of the whip bit his gun hand. He
yelled, then collapsed as she buried her knee into his crotch. She turned and
pushed through the exit, setting off another alarm. She ran down the stair-well,
taking several steps at the same time. She came to the first floor and pushed
open another door, and was into the cold Gotham night air. Here she faced her
last obstacle as two guards with guard dogs came running towards her. Her right
hand took out two canisters and flung them out. Instantly, a cloud of CS smoke
barred the path to her, and both the guards and dogs became overwhelmed by the
CS.
        She turned and ran to the high iron fence shutting the compound of the
museum off from the rest of Gotham. She flipped her whip, and looped the end
around the top of the fence, and used her whip to climb to the top. She landed
softly on the other side and unloop the whip. She turned and ran across the
street and into a dark side alley. There, a van waited for her, with a door
open. She was into the van in an instant. Its engine started up, and was on its
way in a moment. 
        In the van, she opened the bag and took out the jade cat. She got on her
knees and handed it to a man sitting on a wheel-chair in the back. He smiled as
he took it.
        “You have done well, Catwoman.” He said.
        “Master, please.” Pleaded Catwoman.
        “Since you have done so well … Jack!” 
        A large man came from the front of the van. Silently he went up to
Catwoman. He took her by the arm to the front of the compartment. He lifted up
her arms and handcuffed them to an iron ring dangling from the ceiling. Then he
spread her legs wide apart, and used handcuffs to secure them to rings on either
side of the compartment. Catwoman waited patiently while he reached a hand to
her crotch, and with a violent rip, opened the snap buttons holding the crotch
piece together. He lifted the crotch piece away to reveal a leather strap over
Catwoman’s vulva. It was attached to a thick leather belt around her waist under
her costume. The strap only had two small holes, one over her urethra, the other
over her anus. It was a chastity belt, and unlike the previous ones used on her,
this one blocked all entry to her vagina. A small pad lock secured the crotch
strap to the belt. The large man took out a key and unlock the pad lock. He
pulled down the strap to reveal Catwoman’s vulva completely. He then lowered his
own trousers. His penis was already erecting. He leaned forward, and began to
fuck Catwoman. Catwoman strained against her bonds and purred in pleasure. She
was content.
         “Muzzle and tie her.” came a terse command after the man had finished.
The man nodded and took a harness gag, and fitted it onto her head, over her
mask. He forced a bit gag between Catwoman’s jaws. He then pulled the straps
tightly over her head, around her jaws, and under her chin, securing the straps
behind her head with a pad-lock. The harness had been cut specially for her, and
it held her face tightly. 
        He then took out a latex strapless body-suit, closed in front by a
heavy-duty zip. He held it up while Catwoman stepped into it obediently,
inserting her hands through the leg holes. He then zipped it up around her arms
and body, the heavy latex material pinning her arm to her body. He then
hand-cuffed her hands together such that the material at the crotch of the
body-suit prevent the hand-cuffed hands from being pulled up through the
body-suit.
        “Put her back in the cage.” The man in the wheel-chair commanded.
        The man turned to a cage that lay behind the driver’s seat. It was
constructed out of fibre-glass, with a wire-mesh door at the front that could be
pad-locked. It was intended for transporting large dogs. He swung the door open,
and Catwoman obediently backed into the cage, squeezing herself into a ball to
fit in. He then slam the door shut and pad-locked it. Catwoman lay obediently in
the cage for the rest of the trip.
        
        
	For Catwoman, the concept of time has lost all meaning. Her life devolved to a
series of events in which her body was maintained, but her mind was allowed to
slowly wallow away in an environment totally lacking in stimulus. They had added
an extra dimension to her torture after she had resisted the attempt of one of
the guards to grope her with a kick to the groin. They fitted a punishment hood
over her head that completely cut off all sight and sound. She was plunged into
a dark-silent world, from which she was not removed even when she was fed and
washed. With the hood, she became even more unconscious of the passage of time,
and eventually, of her own individuality. With the loss of her sense of self,
she ceased to struggle in attempts to regain her freedom. 
	After what seemed like an eternity for Catwoman, the punishment hood was at
last removed from her head, after she had been removed from the gibbet. At first
she thought that they were going to bath her again, but instead of
spread-eagling her as usual, she was forced onto her knees, and her arms pulled
behind her back. A black latex arm sheath was slipped over her arms, and she
felt it being lace up tightly, forcing her arms to come together. Two straps
from the top of the sheath were then passed over her shoulders, then under her
arm pits back to the sheath, and buckled securely. The straps would keep the arm
sheath from slipping down her arms. 
	Catwoman was then pulled up onto her feet. Her captors wrap a latex hobble
skirt around her waist, and buckled it behind her back. Her legs were closed
together, and the skirt laced up. The skirt had two large holes in the back
where her buttocks were, and these were exposed as the skirt was laced up fully.
She found that she could only take very small steps in the skirt, and even then,
she had to strain against the heavy material of the skirt. To add to the
difficulty and discomfort in walking, her captors had not removed the two
vibrators deep within her, held in place by the chastity belt. They were no
longer vibrating, but their sheer size made it painful for her to walk or even
bend over. 
	Catwoman’s captors had also left her in her corset, which continued to squeeze
her waist to an agonising smallness, with the iron mesh of the breast cups
eating into the flesh of her breasts. The bit gag were still fitted to her
mouth. Instead of attaching a collar and a leash to Catwoman’s throat, her
captors attach a rein to the rings on the sides of her bit gag. This was then
pulled forward. Catwoman was forced to follow. She stumbled a little at first as
they led her out of the room, but soon, she could balance quite well.
	Catwoman was led to a fairly large room. The floor was laid with saw-dust, and
the four walls white-washed. There were no windows, the only light coming from
fluorescent lights  mounted in the ceiling. There was a metallic pillar in the
centre of the room, from which a long pole was extended horizontally over the
floor. She was led up to the end of the long pole. She noticed with unease that
it had a long leash attached to it. Sure enough, her captors attached her reins
to the leash. They then removed her hobble skirt. Then, even before she could
guess what would transpire, she heard the sound of a motor being started, and
the pole starting to move. The pillar began to rotate, turning the pole with it,
like the hand of a clock. She had to walk forward to follow it as the leash
pulled on the reins. 
	The pole began to move faster, and she was forced to follow it with a smart
trot. It was difficult with the dildos still within her, and the corset still
tightly holding on to her waist, preventing her from breathing normally. Very
quickly, she became short of breath, and stumbled. She fell flat on her face,
moaning.
	“Get up!” came a command. 
	Catwoman felt the sharp sting of a whip on the right cheek of her buttocks. She
looked up, shocked, to see one of her captors wielding a whip. He was cracking
it again, and it fell neatly on the left cheek of her buttocks. She winced,
climbed up with difficulty, and the pole started to move again, this time even
faster. This process continued for a few times before finally, she could take it
no more, and fell forward, unconscious.
	At this point, Catwoman’s corset was unlaced and removed. A bucket of cold
water was thrown onto her to wake her up. She moaned and slowly recovered, at
which point she was once again pulled onto her feet and the process started
again. This time, Catwoman was able to keep up relatively well. She ran until
she was covered with perspiration. It was the first exercise she had for a long
time, and despite the pain between her legs, she felt good when at last they
stopped. 
	The reins were untied from the leash, and Catwoman was led out of the room. She
was brought back to the room where she had been imprisoned for so long. She was
released form the arm-sheath, and once again spread-eagled upright, when she was
washed again with powerful jets of cold water and hung out to dry. When she
dried, Her hands were strapped to her thighs again, but the corset was not
replaced. Much to her relieve, the chastity belt was removed as well and not
replaced with something else. For the first time in a long time, there was
nothing plugged into her vagina or anus. She was pushed back into the gibbet,
and shut into it.

	Over the next few “days”, the process was repeated, when she was made to run in
circles in the large room. Eventually, another exercise was added. A new machine
was added to the large room. It took the form of a seat with a steel rack behind
the seat. There were two sets of weights behind the rack, lifted by a pair of
handles in front of the rack through a pair of pulleys at the top of the rack. A
pair of handcuffs were secured to each of the handle. 
	Catwoman was brought to the rack. She saw that there were two dildos fitted to
the seat. She recoiled, but was held firmly by her captors, and placed onto the
seat. The dildos were rammed into her firmly. A strap was ran over her thighs to
hold her down onto the seat. Another was secured over her hips to hold her
against the back of the seat. Her ankles were each strap to a front leg of the
seat. Her hands were then secured to the handcuffs. The machine was then
explained to her.
	“The dildos will be switched on in a moment’s time. If the weights are not
lifted within a second, the dildos will start vibrating violently. If they do
not touch the top of the rack quickly enough, they will start vibrating. If they
stay at the top of the rack for too long, they will start vibrating too. If you
do not keep pulling them up and down, you can be sure that the dildos will be
very busy indeed.”
	And so, she was left on the machine, lifting the weights by pulling the
handles. At first, she was able to keep the dildos within her from vibrating,
but eventually, when she got too tired, the dildos were activated now and then
when she could not keep up the pace necessary to prevent them from vibrating. At
last, when she was completely exhausted and could do no more to lift the
weights, the dildos ran wild within her, causing her to writhe in agony and
ecstasy until she felt herself become wet. She noticed with humiliation and
hatred as her guards laughed at her struggles.
	This new exercise was added to her exercise. They also added another dimension
to her running exercise. She was made to wear a chastity belt when she ran. A
large dildo was fitted to the belt and inserted into her vagina. Wires ran from
the belt to the leash via a spring switch to which she had been tied. If she ran
to slowly, and the leash became taut, the spring switch was activated and the
dildo came to violent life, and would stimulate her. Again, it was possible to
keep pace with the machine at the beginning, but once she became too exhausted,
the dildo came to life more and more often until at last when she could no
longer run, it ran continuously within her, transforming her into a groaning,
wetting wreck. 

	After what seemed like weeks of such treatment, Catwoman was mentally and
physically exhausted. The feeding, the cleaning, the exercising all assumed a
regularity upon which her numb mind has grown accustomed and attached to. With
the denial of any other simulation and activities, those activities are the only
ones her sanity hook on to. Even the torture of the vibrating dildos within her
became a welcomed sensation. Everything about her captivity has assumed a
positive value, even the bonds in which they place her in. She found them
strangely … secure.
	However, just as Catwoman’s mind became accustomed to the maltreatments to her
body, her captors designed a whole new level of torture for her body. The
suddenness in which they changed her routine played a part in the breaking her
sense of security, and weakened the tenuous hold she has on her own sanity. They
were obviously determined to reduce her to a mindless, helpless wreck. 
	When they came in that “morning”. (Catwoman no longer had a normal sense of
time - morning was when they wake her up for her first feeding in the cycle of
feeding, excreting, washing and exercising.) She was removed from her gibbet as
usual after being fed. She was washed, then brought out of the room. At first,
she thought they were bringing her to the exercise room as usual, but instead,
they made a turn too soon, and brought her into a darkened room. In the centre
of the room was a spot-lighted area. Even at the entrance, Catwoman could feel
the heat of the light. In the centre of the room was a table of some sort. It
resembled the character ‘Y’, with the split end facing the door. It was lined
with straps and buckles. 
	Catwoman blinked with incomprehension as she was dragged to the centre of the
room. She saw several items on the table. There was a cat-suit, which she dimly
recall was like her old costume which had been cut off her so long ago. This
one, however, seemed thicker and stiffer, although it had an equally shiny black
PVC surface. The waist of the suit was fitted with a corset which she recognised
more readily. It was like the corset she had worn in her captivity in the gibbet
until quite recently, except that instead of being a laced up job, it had a
heavy duty zipper in front, that tightens it or loosens it. There were straps to
the side of the corset. The sleeves of the cat-suit ended up in mittens with
straps running from the tips.
	There was another item next to the cat-suit. It was a helmet of some sort, made
out of the same thick and stiff latex material the cat-suit was made out of. She
realised that it had something odd about it. It took her awhile to realise that
it had pointed ears on top. It resembled the mask that she wore. At this point,
she realised that they had never taken off her mask, that she was still wearing
it, but this point has long ceased to have significance. The secret of her
identity was pointless when they hold her body captive, to do as they wish. She
shuddered when she realised that the mask had no eye-holes, nor any holes for
breathing through the nose. Instead, there was mouth-piece in which there was a
hole. A long flexible black tube ran from the hole. 
	“So, what do you think?” said a familiar voice. She was turned around to face
the entrance. She recognised her captor and rapist. He had an evil grin on his
face. She mumbled something inaudible into her gag, but her murderous look said
it all.
	“Still a feisty one huh?” the man said, laughing, “Put her into the suit.”
	Her existing bonds were removed, but any thoughts of struggling was removed
when she felt the a numbing shock shoot through her body. They had used a stun
gun on her. She collapsed, and was laid down onto the floor. Her gag and
chastity belt, which had been such constant companions for her for so long, was
removed. She lay naked on the table, except for the cat mask. They began to put
the cat-suit on her. The latex was so thick and stiff that it was a difficult
task even for the two strong guards, but eventually, they managed to get it onto
her. They turned her to her side, and zipped up the suit, encasing her in a
latex prison. They place her arms against her body, and strap it to her body
using the straps on the sides of the corset. They then crossed her arms in front
of her, and loop the straps running from the tips of the mittens around her
neck, and securing each of the straps to the opposite mitten. She noticed that
while the rest of her body was rapidly heating up, being encased in latex, her
crotch region was still cool. She realised that that part of her body was
uncovered. 
	She was then place neatly onto the table. The top of the table was shaped such
that if conformed to the shape of her body, holding the lower part of her body
like a cradle. Her legs were spread. She was then strap down tightly onto the
table, so tightly that she could not move. Seven straps were used on each of her
legs, starting from the ankles up to the crotch, to hold her legs, and another
seven were secured over her body. She felt senses returning to her body, and she
struggled with her bonds, but so tightly was she strap down that she could not
even writhe. 
	At this point, one of her captors went to a wall, and threw a switch. She heard
the sound of a motor running under the table, and it began to rotate and she
began to rise, until she was vertical to the floor, facing the door way. The man
was still there, staring at her. 
	“Fuck you.” She protested feebly.
	The man laughed at this useless show of defiance.
	“Put the helmet on.” He ordered.
	The thick mask was fitted over her head, and then zipped up behind her. All
light and sound was instantaneously cut off, plunging her into a world of
darkness and silence. All sense were deprived in the thick latex prison, except
for the sensation of great heat. It was terrifying and claustrophobic. Catwoman
tried to break free, but the cat-suit and straps combined to hold her immobile
and helpless. At last, she screamed a terrified, terrible primordial scream. The
scream was audible outside of her latex prison through the tube in her mouth.
The man in the wheel chair laughed aloud.
	
	Catwoman’s life took a drastic turn for the worse. Her mind slowly slipped away
in the darkness and silence. Her only contact with the outside world was through
the breathing tube … and her crotch. For a long period of time, she was left in
the claustrophobic darkness and silence of her tight, latex prison. The darkness
and silence slowly gnawed into her mind. The deprivation of senses worked to
disorientate her mind, driving her slowly towards a mindless state. 
        Then, Catwoman felt the hardness of something probing her vagina. This
sudden intrusion into her senseless world was greeted with ecstasy and delirium.
It was not a dildo, she realised, for it was warm. A warm tip exploring the
entrance to her vagina. She began to squirm and writhe, but the straps held her
tightly and firmly. She could do nothing to assist the probing object into her
despite her desperation for it. She craved for its sensory stimulation, but it
merely stayed at the gate, teasing her by rubbing against her clitoris and the
lips of her vulva, tantalising her and causing her to begin wetting. 
        “Fuck me! Fuck me!” she pleaded, but it was inaudible outside of her
latex prison. 
        Suddenly, it was gone, as suddenly as it came. Selina was plunged back
into a dark, silent, sensually barren world.
        
        Wild dreams and imagination filled her mind. She struggled to keep a
grip on her sanity, but it was a losing battle. It became harder and harder to
focus on reality as her mind kept slipping into the realm of fantasies and
nightmares. Her former life became more and more distant. Sometimes she wondered
if it was ever real. She could not imagine a life not involving her latex prison
anymore. It was almost as if the things she had done had been nothing but
dreams. Her former dominatrix self, the self-confident, able and independent
self seems to be a mere figment of her imagination with no basis in this reality
of latex enforced helplessness and sexual vulnerability. Who was she? She could
no longer answer that. It did not matter to her. What mattered only was that she
be allowed to feel something. She even prayed for some sort of sensual
stimulation. 
        It came after some time. This time, it did not simply probe her vulva,
but began to slide itself into her vagina. She was almost wild with joy,
enjoying the warm hardness of the penis as it slide into her. She sighed as it
slide in  and out, slowly, until she felt herself going into an orgasm, but
before she could release herself, the penis was removed, and she was left with
an unreleased sensation, adding to her discomfort.
        “Come back!” she screamed, more in her mind than audibly, but it did not
hear. It was gone, leaving her with her lust. 

	The next few times she was raped, the same thing occurred. She was brought up
to the point of release, but not quite, and she was then denied the release. She
was frustrated and felt totally uncomfortable, but she could do nothing to bring
about release. It added even more to her torture. It became a regular issue in
her mind : that release. It became a holy grail for her, something that she seek
desperately. That release of the tension in her crotch was all she could think
about, and it was denied her. Her bondage position in which her legs were spread
wide open did not help at all. It only increased her lust as even the lightest
draft against her exposed clitoris could excite her but never release her. 
	
        It was some time before she was allowed to release fully, but it was not
accomplished by a penis. A dildo was used. It was a large dildo that only barely
fitted into her vagina, but this very size filled her with pleasure as it was
slipped into her. She even ignored the pain it caused her as it was pushed in
much too deep. All she could think of was the release it triggered in her. The
pain mixed with the pleasure and became part of it. It was pushed in and out -
very violently - several times, triggering more orgasm each time it was thrust
in. She sighed in pleasure. When it was withdrawn, she felt a cool and sticky
sensation on her vulva. She did not realise it but it was her semen mixed with
blood. The whole event was recorded on video, and her bloodied vulva was closely
captured on video and photographs. For the moment, she did not know all these,
that her pain and pleasure were recorded for some perverse purpose. All she
could think of was the pleasure. 

	In the sterile sensory environment she was living in, she became more and more
obsessed with her vagina. All she could think about was the feel of a warm penis
within her. Sex - violent sex - became very important to her, something she
could not do without. When, after that time she was allowed to release,  the
penis stopped coming for some time, she could feel herself panicking. She began
begging. Of course her voice was incomprehensible with the mouth-piece fitted
over her mouth, but the men outside understood, and laughed that the once
defiant Catwoman was now reduced to begging to be raped. And they did not give
her what she wanted. It was part of the brain-washing process. 
	It was only after what seemed like a long period of time that she was obliged,
but in a very violent and painful way. She was released from the table, and
brought to the back of the room. Her arms were then released from the crossed
position in front of her chest, and then stretched out upwards. Her wrists were
then secured by manacles dangling from chains attached to the ceiling. Her legs
were then lifted off the ground (such that her entire body weight was taken up
at the wrists, inducing pain in them), lifted upwards and then spread outwards.
Each leg was then manacled … to the wrists, such that her whole weight is still
taken up by at the wrists. Even this great, new pain at her wrists were
something she welcomed. It was a new sensation. Something her mind could hold
onto and experience. It added to a perverse kind of pleasure. Slowly, her
concept of what is pleasurable is becoming mixed with what is painful. 
	The cat-o-nine-tails landed on her vulva. A powerful, searing pain short
through her. She screamed into her tube. Was that laughter she heard through the
thickness of her helmet? She did not know, and did not care as suddenly, she
felt a penis probe her vulva, then plunged straight into her. She sighed with
pleasure. It was withdrawn again. Another blow from the whip landed on her
vulva, causing her to scream again. Again, the sensation of pain was almost
immediately replaced by that of the pleasure of a penis plunging into her. This
was done again and again until she achieved orgasm. Then the whole process was
stopped. She then felt something cool applied to her vulva, and it felt numb for
a while afterwards. Unknown to her, her vulva was a mess of red marks and
bruises. Again, everything was caught on film and negatives. When they were done
with her, she was lowered onto the ground and unbound. Her arms were returned to
their crossed position in front of her chest, but something different was done.
Her legs were strapped together, and she was laid on the ground instead of being
placed back onto the table. She was able to writhe and turn on the floor of her
cell instead of being held completely motionless on the table. She did not
understand what was happening, but welcomed the change. Then she felt a collar
being strap around her neck, and when she tried to move, there was a tag on the
collar. She understood then that there was to be a limit to her “freedom”. For
now, she was simply allowed to writhe around, bend and unbend her body, but not
move anywhere. 

	It was quite a while before they came for her again. She was lifted up onto her
feet, and dragged forward. She was dragged to a wooden horse, and laid over it
on her stomach. Her legs were unstrapped and spread outwards, then secured by
manacles to two legs of the wooden horse. Her arms were then released, and
stretched out too before being manacled to the other two legs of the horse. She
was now bound in such a way that her buttocks were pointed up, and her vulva
fully exposed. She lay waiting patiently, not even struggling with her bonds.
Her captors noted this passivity with approval. 
	Then it came. As with the last time, the pain came first. A sharp agonising
sting across both cheeks of her buttocks. She screamed into her tube, both in
agony and ecstasy. Almost immediately, she started to go into orgasm. Her vagina
began to wet. Then she felt a penis plunge deep into her, violently and
painfully. She moaned. Almost immediately, it was pulled out again, and another
blow delivered onto her buttocks, followed quickly by the penis. She shuddered
and sighed. By the third blow and penetration, she was going into orgasm. As the
penis came into her, she raise her buttocks and pushed sharply into the penis,
felling it reach into her. She sighed as the penis released its semen into her,
and she in turn released. She slumped onto the wooden horse, limp and exhausted.
They left her in this position for a while, before they came back again. Again,
she responded to the whip and the penis with almost mad lust. When they finally
released her from the wooden horse, her buttocks and vagina were raw, and she
found it painful to sit on them. It was thus all the better that she was left in
a hog-tied position. Her arms were placed in an arm-sheath strapped over her
shoulders, and her legs cramped together into a leg sheath, which was strapped
to belt secured around her waist. Her legs were then bent, and a D-ring at the
tip of the leg sheath attached by a pair of handcuffs to the a similar D-ring at
the tip of her arm sheath.

	She was no longer resistant to her captors, but allowed them to manipulate her,
torch her and use her as they wished. Indeed, she welcomed her abuse. When she
was released from her hog-tie, she did not make any move at struggle even when
they left her unbound. It was judged that she was ready for the final treatment.
She was brought to a tiny room where there was a heavy wooden chair with a high
back and arm rests. It looked a bit like an electric chair, and indeed wires can
be seen to run from the bottom of the seat. There were two large dildos on top
of the seat, both shiny and black, with metallic studs, designed to cause great
pain. Even as they push her onto the dildos, one entering her vagina, the other
her anus, she  felt the studs scrap the vulnerable walls of those organs, and
she felt pain, and lust at the same time. They seemed too large to enter her,
and yet, she felt the walls of her vagina and anus stretch to accommodate them
until she could feel their hugeness in her. She then felt a strap pulled over
the upper part of her thighs, securing her down onto the dildos. Another two
straps was secured over her abdomen, and under her breasts to secure her to the
back of the chair. Her arms were then placed onto the arm rest. Her wrists were
secured by leather cuffs to the arm rest. Another pair of leather cuffs were
looped around her upper arms, above the elbows, securing them to the back of the
chair. Her legs were placed together - an act which cause some pain because of
the objects in her - and strap together, then cuffed to a bar that ran between
the two front legs of the chair. Her head was then tilt back into a sort of
bowl, which held the sides of the head such that she could only look forward. A
leather strap was then secured over her fore-head to keep her head in the bowl.
She was now totally unable to move in the chair. 
	Then she felt a hand on her face. She felt it move to the sides of her head,
over the temple. The latex material was lifted over her right temple, and she
head a ripping sound and realised that an incision had been made. She felt the
sharp tip of metal probing the side of her head, then the sound of a pair of
scissors being used. Suddenly, a slit appeared before her right eye, and she
blinked at the light. The process was repeated over her left eyes until she
could see through tiny slits in her eyes. After being in the dark for so long,
the lights were blinding. She also felt the latex material on the side of her
head being pulled, and something soft sandwiched between the material and her
ears. She heard a static sound, and realised that they were ear-phones. 
        What were they doing? Her eyes darted around in bewilderment. All she
could see was a blank wall in front of her. Suddenly, a rectangle of light was
projected onto the wall. White noise suddenly filled her head as the earphones
came to life. Then images started to flash across the screen. Each images was on
the screen for less than a second, unable for her to form a clear picture of
what it was, but nevertheless long enough for her sub-conscious mind to register
the content. After having been deprived of sight for so long, the movie was
fascinating and it held her attention. She did not realise that she was looking
at a series of images and short footages of her kidnapping and captivity,
sniplets of her rapes and tortures. Inserted between the images were subliminal
messages telling her how much she had enjoyed being raped and tortured, that she
was a wanton slug and a slave. With increasing frequency, the images and
messages were flashed across the screen, forming type of throbbing mess that
fused itself into her brain. Her eyes being became fixed and glassed over, and
her breathing became shallow. Sounds began to enter into her head through the
ear-phones, at first whispers indistinguishable from the white noise, then
slowly louder and louder, faster and faster until they became screeches and
shouts, telling her that she was a slave, and that she must obey. She must obey.
She must obey. She must obey. At that point, the dildos inside her started up,
flooding her with pain and pleasure at the same time. The very hugeness of the
dildos caused great pain, even without the scrapping motion of the studs. The
images in front of her flashed even more urgently, now tinted a bright red. The
sounds in her ears became a high pitch scream. Then she screamed. She screamed
long and hard until she passed out.
        
        She climbed the wall quickly and skillfully, moving as stealthily and
easily as a cat. She was dressed entirely in black latex. She wore a shiny PVC
helmet on her head, which covered her entire head, except for two small eye
holes and the two holes for her nostrils. Over her torso, she wore a high-necked
latex body-suit, which revealed her legs up to her hips. The body suit had two
large triangular holes in front, one pointing down, and the other up, placed
such that it held her ample breasts, but did not prevent the top and bottom of
her cleavage from being revealed. She wore elbow length gloves and thigh-length
boots. On her neck was a thick leather collar of some sort. Around her narrow
waist, she wore a leather belt to which was attached a number of pouches and a
long bull-whip.
        She climbed to the top of the building, and perched on the edge of the
roof, while she scanned the roof. She knew that there were motion detectors
interspersed around the roof. Taking the whip into her hand as she located one,
she lifted up her right arm, and brought it down, causing the whip to lunge
forward like a snake, smashing the plastic covered detector to bits without
setting it off. She repeated the process until she had a clear path to a
sky-light. 
        The sky-light was defended by a tremor sensor. If it was opened or
shaken violently, the sensor would set an alarm off. Of course, such a device
must tolerate “normal” vibrations so as not to be set off by the lightest of
wind. It is set to detect sudden and violent vibrations, such as that when the
glass is broken. 
        She took a black box out from one of the pouches and rested it carefully
onto the glass. She then flipped a switch and stepped back. The box began to
emit a sharp pitch but barely audible sound. She observe with satisfaction as
the glass in the skylight slowly begin to tremble. The trembling increase at
such a slow rate that it fail to set off the alarm. As long as the trembling
increase at a slow rate, the sensor will not be set off. The glass shattered,
and she stepped forward and switched off the box, replacing it in her pouch. She
waited, but no alarm was raised. Reassured, she took out a coil of strong but
thin steel cable, loop it around a nearby exhaust pipe, and threw the cable down
the sky-light. Attaching the steel cable to a clamp attached to her belt, she
dropped through the sky-light. The clamp slowed down her descent to a safe rate.
In a few moments, she was on the floor of the Gotham Museum of the Fine Arts,
right next to one of their most valuable exhibits - an ancient Chinese jade cat
of the finest quality. 
        It was encased in a glass box set on a pedestal - no doubt wired.
Underneath her mask, she smiled. She took out glass cutter and cut a circular
piece out of the top of the box. She grabbed the statue, and dropped it into a
padded bag around her neck. As she expected, the alarm was immediately set off.
She closed the bag and crossed it across her body, then started running towards
a near-by fire-exit. Even as she neared it, a guard came running up. He did not
even see her as she jumped into the air and deliver a flying kick into his
temple. He fell to the ground, unconscious. She did not even stop running. 
        A second guard came round a corner, gun in his hand. He did not have it
for long as she snapped her whip and the tip of the whip bit his gun hand. He
yelled, then collapsed as she buried her knee into his crotch. She turned and
pushed through the exit, setting off another alarm. She ran down the stair-well,
taking several steps at the same time. She came to the first floor and pushed
open another door, and was into the cold Gotham night air. Here she faced her
last obstacle as two guards with guard dogs came running towards her. Her right
hand took out two canisters and flung them out. Instantly, a cloud of CS smoke
barred the path to her, and both the guards and dogs became overwhelmed by the
CS.
        She turned and ran to the high iron fence shutting the compound of the
museum off from the rest of Gotham. She flipped her whip, and looped the end
around the top of the fence, and used her whip to climb to the top. She landed
softly on the other side and unloop the whip. She turned and ran across the
street and into a dark side alley. There, a van waited for her, with a door
open. She was into the van in an instant. Its engine started up, and was on its
way in a moment. 
        In the van, she opened the bag and took out the jade cat. She got on her
knees and handed it to a man sitting on the bench seat  in the back. He smiled
as he took it.
        “You have done well, Catwoman.” He said.
        “Master, please.” Pleaded Catwoman.
        “Since you have done so well … Jack!” 
        A large man came from the front of the van. Silently he went up to
Catwoman. He took her by the arm to the front of the compartment. He lifted up
her arms and handcuffed them to an iron ring dangling from the ceiling. Then he
spread her legs wide apart, and used handcuffs to secure them to rings on either
side of the compartment. Catwoman waited patiently while he reached a hand to
her crotch, and with a violent rip, opened the snap buttons holding the crotch
piece together. He lifted the crotch piece away to reveal a leather strap over
Catwoman’s vulva. It was attached to a thick leather belt around her waist under
her costume. The strap only had two small holes, one over her urethra, the other
over her anus. It was a chastity belt, and unlike the previous ones used on her,
this one blocked all entry to her vagina. A small pad lock secured the crotch
strap to the belt. The large man took out a key and unlock the pad lock. He
pulled down the strap to reveal Catwoman’s vulva completely. He then lowered his
own trousers. His penis was already erecting. He leaned forward, and began to
fuck Catwoman. Catwoman strained against her bonds and purred in pleasure. She
was content.