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. |