by JK Waylon
CATGIRL: HEAT OF THE NIGHT
(Synne City Super Heroine in Peril)
By
JK Waylon
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PUBLISHED BY:
Smokin’ Hot Press
Copyright 2013 by JK Waylon
This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, and locations within either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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If you enjoyed this story, why not read others by JK?
Ms Amazing: Vigilante Justice (Synne City Super Heroine in Peril #1)
Ms Amazing: Super Heroine Sex Bet (Synne City Super Heroine in Peril #2)
Ms Amazing: Public Service(Synne City Super Heroine in Peril #3)
And check out some other Smokin' Hot Press authors:
Cindy Sutton
A Vicious Little Gangbang
Helplessly Gangbanged
Breeding the Virgin Babysitter
Cat Wilder
Space Sluts: Tentacle Strip Search
Vampire Slayer Gangbang
Vampire Slayer Werewolf Gangbang
There is a longer list of Smokin' Hot Press authors and titles at the end.
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Catgirl: Heat of the Night
(Synne City Super Heroine in Peril)
Midnight blue eyes narrowed, surrounded by a black cowl. A warm, wet tongue slipped out to caress a full upper lip, as Synne City’s newest super heroine moved stealthily through the night shadows. The four men huddled in a dark alley were unaware of Catgirl’s approach.
The tall, busty beauty rose up atop the three story building, watching them intently. So far they haven’t done anything untoward, but really, who hung out in dark alleys in the middle of the night if he wasn’t at least planning on breaking the law?
She tugged up on her black thigh boots, with the awesome stilettos she loved so much. It was a hot summer night, so her black latex catsuit was a bit on the hot side, but the enchanted talisman that gave her super powers also regulated her body temperature so that it didn’t matter what the temperature was, she was comfortable. Most super heroines opted for a power belt or a tiara as their Object of Power. Catgirl requested and received a silver cat’s head on a black latex choker instead. Can’t wear a tiara with a leather cowl, and a shiny power belt didn’t work with her costume of choice. The black leather, lace up corset worked so much better than a belt, to her fashion sense anyway.
As she watched, one of the men pulled a crowbar from a nylon gym bag, and swiftly and efficiently jimmied open a door. If she recalled correctly, that was the back door of a jewelry story.
“Oopsie, someone just broke the law,” she murmured, wagging her brows. “Puurfect.”
She almost giggled. The eighteen year old had been practicing catlike comments since deciding on her super heroine name. Much to the annoyance of her designated mentor, Midnight Avenger.
She flipped long blonde hair back over her shoulder, stepped to the very edge of the building, and stepped off into thin air.
Catgirl had the gift of flight, thanks to her enchanted choker, but three stories wasn’t too far of a drop for her Amazon legs to absorb. Midnight Avenger strongly suggested she not freefall more than five stories. More than that, her tall stilettos would snap, if not an ankle.
The tall, lean beauty hit with a loud report of sharp stilettos on concrete. The four miscreants whirled around with startled cries. Her knees bent to absorb the impact, but only a little. Catgirl immediately stepped out effortlessly, three steps, and stopped to strike an arrogant pose. Hands on hips, chin high, she leveled deep blue eye on the gawking men.
“Halt in the name of justice, miscreants!” she demanded with authority. “You are caught by Catgirl!”
“Who?” the eldest looking of them said. “I never heard of you.”
She tilted her head, scowling at him. “Hmm, I’ll check the judicial codes, but I don’t think it’s mandatory you know who I am before I bust your stupid butt.”
He snorted contemptuously. “You look and sound pretty young. I think we have a sidekick, not a real super heroine, boys,” he said.
“You think, Mr. Cotter?” one of them said.
Catgirl froze. Technically, she was still in her “training” period. She was supposed to be Midnight Avenger’s protégé, what everyone liked to call a sidekick. No one really liked being called a sidekick, even though the veteran super heroines even referred them their protégés as sidekicks. For some reason, Catgirl truly despised the very notion of being a sidekick. She was fully powered, and ready for action. She was a super heroine!
“I’m going to kick your sides in, moron,” Catgirl said, assuming a more aggressive stance. “Now, surrender or pay the consequences.”
“How about I bang your fat ass?” Mr. Cotter snarled. “Those are pretty terrible consequences, I should think. I could get cat scratch fever!”
His cohorts in crime laughed. Catgirl graced them with a “yeah right” smile. Then she cocked her head, wagged her brow, and ran a black, latex glove hand over her sweet round butt.
“You’re welcome to try, you big nasty boy, and more power to you if you succeed, but first you have to get past the power and fury of my fists and feet.”
That made them pause, glancing at her hands and feet. Amazons were known for their strength and fighting ability. Even without an Object of Power, the shapely beauties descended of the legendary Amazon Tribe were forces to reckon with. They all might be tall and shapely, with the faces of super models and the bodies of bikini models, but they were tough and resilient. Add an Object of Power, and they became super heroines as strong as ten men.
Former Olympic gymnast Morgan Miles was such a woman. The tall blonde was also eager to prove herself, to show the world and her mentor she was ready to be a full-fledged super heroine on her own. And fortunately for her, the Council of Witches gave her a fully powered Object of Power, and not the half-powered protégé talisman. Their mistake was her good fortune.
“AJ, you go left. Johnny, you attack from the right,” Mr. Cotter said. “Vinnie, you attack straight on. Miss Kittylicious can only fight one of you at a time, and something tells me she has a glass jaw.”
Mr. Cotter looked to be mid-forties, but tall and fit, with shoulder length brown hair. He wore small round glasses and a dark suit. His cohorts were all twenty-somethings in jeans and t-shirts. Johnny was the tallest, looking to be around six foot six, with a shaved head and big hawk nose. Vinnie was only about six feet tall, but very broad and fierce looking. While AJ was a freckled faced blonde of six four, but missing his front two teeth and with a smashed looking nose.
“Oh, Goddess Protect! I’m all a-tremble in my pretty boots,” she said, and then dropped into a fighting stance. Catgirl gave them a little wave of her fingers, beckoning them to her, “Okay, boys, let’s rumble.”
“I got your boy right here, Pussygirl,” AJ snarled, grabbing his crotch.
So she charged forward, and kicked the back of that hand, which was barely enough to protect his nuts from her fierce foot. He howled, jumping back and shaking that abused hand.
“Oops, my girl trumps your boy,” Catgirl said, and then smashed a roundhouse into the side of his head. Johnny charged her, so she planted her feet, bent her knees, and snapped her legs straight to flip over him. “Looking for me, miscreant?”
“Ouch, Mr. Cotter, two down in two seconds,” Catgirl said. “Not looking good for Team Miscreant.”
“You got a sassy mouth, Kitten,” he said, glowering at her. “I can’t wait to stuff it full of cock, and see how sassy you are then.”
“Oooh, talk dirty to me, baby,” she said, covertly watching as Vinnie tried to sneak up on her from her left rear. Just as he launched himself at her, she tapped her super powers and flew straight up. Vinnie stumbled and slammed head first into a brick wall, dropping to his knees, barely coherent, and groaning miserably. “Ouch. Bet that hurt. Poor baby.”
Catgirl landed softly before Mr. Cotter, who stood there with his hands behind his back, looking incredulously from one downed man to the other. She struck a sassy pose, hands on hips, chest thrust out, and chin high.
“Look likes ‘Kitten’s’ got claws, heh, Mr. Cotter?” she said.
“Fuck you,” he said, and his right arm swung around.
She was two arms-length away, so wasn’t concerned. Until she spotted the crowbar in his hand. Too late.
“Ooff!” she cried, spun around as exquisite pain ripped through her, from the side of her face down her neck and into her core. That blow would’ve killed a normal woman, but she was Amazon. And her Object of Power gave her superior strength and endurance, so she would take a much more severe blow than most. That being said, black and white flashed behind her eyes as she dropped to all fours. “Sweet Justice, that hurt.”
Catgirl sensed more than saw Mr. Cotter move closer. Another blow of that crowbar and she’d be down and out, and their prisoner. That would not go well. She’s heard stories of what happened to sexy super heroines when captured.
Flinging herself sideways, Catgirl heard the metallic clang as the crowbar struck the concrete where she’d been just seconds before. Unfortunately, rolling so suddenly really messed up an already messed up equilibrium. She sprawled on the ground face up, clutching at the spinning world as she desperately struggled to regain her senses before it was too late.
Suddenly, Mr. Cotter was looming over her, the crowbar raised and a crazed look in his eyes. Her muscles weren’t responding her to her wishes, so she tried her super powers.
“Shit, stay still you stupid bitch,” Mr. Cotter cried, missing her again when she streaked straight up before he could swing. Still, he reached out with his left hand and seized her ankle. “Gotcha!”
“Yeeooow!” she cried, suddenly spun around in midair. Her Power faltered, and Catgirl was yanked down into Mr. Cotter’s all-encompassing arms. “Let me…go! Aaggh.”
Catgirl struggled to break free, but that blow to the head left her weak and her limbs all felt rubbery. Mr. Cotter shoved her hard into a brick wall, and she stared incredulously up into his leering face as he pressed into her. The crowbar clanged on the ground, dropped so he could better use his hands.
Before she realized what he was doing, Mr. Cotter claimed her glossy red lips in a fierce, demanding kiss. Catgirl’s body tensed, back bowing, as she responded to that unexpected turn of events. His hands began exploring, touching her boobs, face, hair, and butt. Finally, one hand settled in to fondle her big boobs, while the other rubbed her oddly achy pussy through her latex pants.
“Oh! Dammit. Aaaggh,” she cried, eyes closing as the most amazing sensations rippled through her overheated, oversexed body. One foot came off the ground, spreading her legs a bit and giving Mr. Cotter better access to her most intimate place. “Goddess, help me. Oooh.”
The other men started to stagger over and watch. One of them pulled her arms back, crossing her wrists, and binding them with a tie-wrap. She tugged on that insult on top of injury, moaning and groaning as her insides turned to hot, tingling mush. Catgirl felt her juices flowing, as damp heat spread down in her nether regions.
She was warned about capture, and that the Curse of the Amazons would kick in super fast if they bad guys went that direction with her. All Amazons were intensely horny, some believed they became super heroines just for the chance to be captured and forced to fuck, fuck, fuck. Many truly believed super heroines all wanted to be captured, fucked stupid, and sexually tamed.
Catgirl had no capture fantasies, though she did try to explore the other two every weekend. Hadn’t found a guy who could bang her into submission yet. But she’d keep looking.
Mr. Cotter scooped a boob out of her costume, finally releasing her lips to lower his face to her chest and suck on her hard, erect nipple. She gasped and writhed, head still spinning, but now for a different reason.
“Have…ugh…fun,” Catgirl gasped out. “But know…ooh…I’m going…to…ugh, ugh…hunt…you…down.”
“You’re lucky, Kitten, because it’s late and we don’t have any time to play with you and that hot body,” Mr. Cotter said. His hand palmed the back of her head, forcing her lips into his again. That kiss sucked her breath away, leaving her huffing and puffing, mind spinning. And then his hand tightened, pulling her leather cowl back. Her eyes got huge. “Yes, my pretty little pussy, I’m going to unmask you.”
“No! I’ll do anything you want!” she said. “Fuck me! Fuck me! You can all fuck me! Just leave the mask on!”
“No can do,” he said, his face lighting up with anticipation as her cowl was pulled slowly up, up, up.
Catgirl cried out, threatened them with death and destruction, and even tried rising up on her tip-toes to keep the cowl on, but all to no avail. Mr. Cotter savored every second of her torment and fear, as he eased the cowl up and away. And finally, pulled it off to reveal her naked face.
“A-ha! Oh,” he said. “Are you famous?”
“She looks kinda familiar,” Johnny said. “Pretty.”
“I’m n-nobody,” she said, heart racing, breathing labored. She swallowed and swallowed, but that damned lump in her throat wouldn’t go away. “Go away, you’ve done enough.”
“Bind her ankles,” Mr. Cotter said. “She’s famous, but it’s too dark in this alley to get a good view of her face.” He paused while Vinnie bound her ankles together with another tie-wrap, and the boss man began rubbing her pussy through her rubber pants. “That’s better.”
“Goddess, make…him…ugh…stop…before,” she gasped out, not believing how incredible it felt to be masturbated by a stinking criminal. Then he kissed her, and intensified his rubbing of her clit through the latex. Within seconds she felt herself cross a line, and that mad rush to climax began. “Aaaggggghh!”
The eruption of pleasure was wonderful, as always. Catgirl bucked and writhed in his arms, screaming into his mouth as he forced another climax from her responsive body. And then suddenly, Mr. Cotter released her to fall on the ground.
The other three hurried inside the jimmied door.
He dropped her cowl next to her face. “The police will be here shortly. We’ll just take what we came after, and let them help you back into her costume and mask.”
“You bastard! I will hunt you down!”
Mr. Cotter left her there, walking away laughing. A few minutes later, they all came running out of the door and quickly vanished up the dark alley. Catgirl watched them go with incredulous eyes. The police sirens were drawing closer, and so was the end of her super heroine career. The police would record her secret identity, and informants within the police department would tell very bad people. She was doomed, and would have to flee the city and go into hiding.
“Oh my, what do we have here?” a sweet feminine voice said from high above.
A shadowy figure was squatting high above, at the very edge of the building. Since she was hesitating, it was worrisome. She might not be a super heroine, but a super villainess. Some Amazon's used their powers for evil, and a few of them prowled the night streets of Synne City, looking for opportunity. A helpless hero
ine was easy money. Any pimp or madam would pay good money for one.
When she stood up and walked sensuously back and forth, while studying the bound super heroine below, Catgirl really got worried. As she listen to the distant, faint clatter and scrap of stiletto boots, her mind filled with big pimp domination. She envisioned herself stripped, bound to a bed, and a big mean pimp fucking her stupid. Over and over until she not only agreed to walk the streets for him, but she also truly wanted to please him in every way. Be anything he wanted. Do anything he wanted.
Catgirl started panting, feeling hot and sweaty as her juices flowed. She squirmed within her bounds, tugging and moaning as she struggled with her out of control imagination and achy, needy body.
Thank the goddess Mr. Cotter isn't a pimp, or I'd already be strutting my stuff on the street, Catgirl thought, remembering his soul-numbing kissing. His magical hands really rattled her, and her belly was still quivering from his efforts. Then movement above caught her attention. Oh goddess, here she comes!
She slipped off the side, and came feet first to land beside Catgirl.
Her costume wasn't that much different than Catgirl's. She wore black as well, including a similar looking cowl. Her black latex top was very shiny, long sleeved, and left her midriff bare, with a stylized bat over her big boobs in the same red-orange color as her long hair and full lips. She pulled opera gloves over that to cover her hands. Her pants were low on well rounded hips, the same black latex as the top, and stuffed into patent thigh boots. Her power belt was the same red-orange as her hair, lips, and symbol.
“Bat Babe!”
“Are you…Catgirl? Midnight Avenger’s little sidekick?”
“N…Yes,” she said, face flaming up. Bat Babe was only a year older, so for her to call Catgirl a "little sidekick" was doubly insulting. Catgirl knew that she never submitted to a mentor, and just did her own thing. Of course, she wasn't considered one of the top tier super heroines in the city, either. “The police are almost here. Please, help me get free before I’m outted.”
