“Put her up on the suspension bars with the locking blindfold!” the Lady of the house shouted, “I will deal with her myself!”
Maven, Holly, and Brooks all herded Selina back into the sex dungeon, they put a latex lined blindfold over her and secured it with multiple straps and locks. Then her wrists were secured in suspension cuffs and hooked up to a lifting bar. She could sense them leaving, but one stayed. Selina was as subtle as possible in picking the padlock securing the suspension cuff. After five minutes the door opened, the last girl left and in walked the Mistress of the house. The thief could smell all the different leathers; deer, lamb, kid… she could hear the creak of the full body moving, she heard the padding of the soft leather moccasin soles. The Mistress made her way around behind the thief before speaking she moved up and wrapped her body around the thief’s. The legs were coated in deer skin leather moccasin crotch boots, lamb skin opera gloves wrapped around the thief’s torso as the Mistress brought her face next to the thief’s from behind.
“I can tell you are not me, but oh so close. What was different?” the Mistress asked, “You have the air of a street cat in you hidden behind the class and sophistication needed to pull off that Audrey Hepburn number without anyone second guessing you. Hmmm.”
The Mistress nuzzled the face and neck of the thief, while she rubbed the thief’s belly, crotch and legs.
“You can be out of here is seconds, you already have one padlock picked,” the Mistress reached up and relocked the locks on the thief, “Let me know if this story sounds familiar, young girl born to alcoholic father and suicidal mother, Mother offs herself and father drinks himself to death or something. Point is girl is on the street as another stray, then gets sent to juvenile hall, figures out the depth of her talents as a gymnast and thief, breaks out, later is a fetish hooker, ties up the johns and then robs them while they think they are only there for kinky shit, but something made you dump that and become more…”
The thief gasped as the Mistress slide her glove over the thief’s crotch.
“You knew Holly, she was a stray street cat…” you could hear the smile in the Mistress’ voice.
“I picked mine up off the street,” the thief admitted, “Just like you did.”
“I caught mine trying to steal my wallet out of my purse,” the Mistress recalled, “So I stole hers and offered her a trade. Back to that story, it’s a load of shit isn’t it? That’s the one you tell people for some sob sympathy.”
The Mistress reached up and relocked the padlocks.
“Tell me if you heard this one before,” the thief spoke up, “Parents take a kid out to the theater. Needing to step out part way throw the show the parents take the kid out the side door and then get ambushed by a mugger with a pistol. The Mugger shoots the parents…”
“And the little girl swears to vengeance over her parent’s dead bodies,” the Mistress finished.
“Oh god,” the thief breathed, “You are Bruce!”
“No Bruce is one of the only clean captains in the Gotham Police,” the Mistress said.
“This Bruce,” the thief said, “Imagine if Bruce had been alone in that ally with his parents…”
“But we were together,” the Mistress said, “Bruce, Maggie and I.”
“Alfred ring a bell?” the thief asked.
“Yes, Bruce’s first butler,” the Mistress said, “He died shortly after the parents, the woman who took over as Bruce’s care taker Doctor Tompkins straightened him out. Too much rage, he would have become a serial killer or something.”
“Or something,” the thief said, “He is known as something of a Sherlock Holms right?”
“Youngest and cleanest Captain on the force,” the Mistress responded.
“Imagine him as equal parts Zoro, The Shadow, Sherlock Holms and shades of Dracula!” the thief said.
“Shit,” the Mistress said, “Still I wouldn’t kick him out of bed.”
“Only when the Brooding gets too much,” the thief shot, “Then that means you are equal parts Murder she Wrote, The Cat people and Ninja Nekos.”
“Sounds about right,” the Mistress said.
“So your two legged Kittens are the students you have taken under your care to train to be heroic vigilantes too,” the thief made the statement.
“Catgirl, then Black Kitten, now Pussy Kat,” The Mistress purred.
“Sounds like you already have a spare on deck,” the thief said, “Falcone by chance?”
“She has potential,” The Mistress hinted.
There was a knock at the door.
“Batwoman hit the financial district Mistress Selina,” Maven said calmly.
“Your Catnip?” the thief prodded.
“Maven, release her and get her some lounge wear,” the Mistress ordered, “I’m sure we will have more to discuss when I get back.”
Maven watched her Mistress leave then turned around to see the thief already having undone the wrist cuffs and undoing the blindfold.
“Got anything yummy?” the thief said.