Bill Baxter sighed contentedly as he stared at the leggy beauty presenting her full ass, long alabaster, fishnet-covered legs and pink pussy lips to him, bent over on all fours in front of him like an animal in heat, the straps of the fishnet garters digging into her plump rear.
"I want you to know that I take being your patron very, very seriously. I'm here to support you in all your dreams and endeavors and all you have to do is thank me. Isn't that wonderful?"
"Mmm-hmm!" Zatanna heard herself hum in cheery agreement as a pained smile forced itself across her face - a smile that didn't match the furious glare in her blue eyes.
"I thought you'd say that . . . but I think we need to get a few things straight first." Bill said as he casually stood up and casually tossed her panties into her top hat sitting on her make-up counter. "I think we can safely make these disappear for good."
He rested a hand on her ass and gave her an affectionate pat.
"I've been told you have quite wondrous magical abilities, abilities that would allow you to do nearly anything - abilities that might rival my newfound gifts, if I understand them correctly. Is that true? You may nod."
Zatanna nodded, face reddening with rage as she felt control of her neck return to her and Baxter's hand gently squeezing her ass and rubbing all over her trembling thighs, teasing at where the garters met the fishnets.
"Interesting. You see, I had only thought magic the stuff of folklore until I came across a rather unique artifact. Eventually, when it was brought near to the open sea on a museum tour I was- well, I won't bore you with the details. Let us just say that I can do a great many things I had previously thought impossible, such putting permanent commands in people's minds on how to physically act and behave, which . . ."
Zatanna found herself no longer on all fours but instead sliding onto her knees before Bill Baxter, hands behind her head, thrusting her pert barely clad C-cups out at him, her chest heaving with rage.
"Since you supposedly have great magic powers like myself, I suppose I should approach you cautiously . . . but how powerful can you be when you willingly flounce around like a stripper on stage in front of hundreds of people night after night?"
The man smiled as he leaned in front of her and casually began undoing her corset.
"If you aren't a charlatan, well, I think you'd have to agree that the only reasonable explanation is that you derive a great, intense sexual satisfaction from people seeing you scantily clad. Isn't that right?"
He casually tore open her bustier, letting her tits jut out freely and Zatanna suddenly felt her nipples become rock hard.
"Mmmf!" she gasped in shock. Suddenly, just the act of him staring at her bare tits was making her incredibly horny! What was this creep doing to her?
He casually pinched one of her hot, hard nipples, making her moan against her closed lips.
"Well, that verifies that theory. How wonderful for both of us that I've come up with a way for you to enjoy showing off your body while still having time to service me with your magic . . . and in other ways. For your enjoyment, I'll remind you to please remember that you must always walk, move and act in as sexually suggestive and showy way as possible - so as to maximize the number of people ogling you, which you take as highly arousing praise."
Zatanna felt her body return to her control and she went to launch herself off her knees and punch this smug jerk's face in . . . only to find herself whipping back her long dark locks, thrust out her chest and then slowly stand up, smoothing her hands up her long legs as she did so, finally hooking her thumbs in her garters as she thrust her bare pussy out at him before starting to saunter over to him with agonizing slowness. He was only a few feet away but she knew it was hopeless as her hands then strayed up to her chest to cup and thrust out her tits while she licked her full lips. Worst of all, the look in his eyes as he stared at her body made her so fucking hot!
He chuckled and slid back into the love seat, hands resting on the arms with a smirk on his face.
"There? Isn't that better? As your patron, I only seek to make sure of your happiness and give you the greatest . . . exposure . . ."
Zatanna felt her pussy gush at just the word, to her shock and horror.
". . . possible. And since you do so love exposing yourself - let's have you show me your best stripper dance moves to get out of the rest of that saucy ensemble you wear."
Zatanna stopped two feet from Bill Baxter and began to writhe sensually, thrusting her hips back and forth and shaking her chest as she slid out of the tux jacket, whipped it around and slid it between her legs (God, this was making her so fucking wet!) a few times before tossing it over her shoulder. She then turned around and wiggled her ass and drooling pussy in his face before as she slid out of the ruins of her corset and bow tie. She whipped back around, lifting one leg high into the air and place it down to the left of his lap, dry humping the air just a few inches away from his face as her hand slid down to undo the garter belt and fishnets she wore.
"Stop."
She found herself frozen in place, her chest thrust out and pussy on display, panting, covered in sweat and sick with lust, hate and terror as the man leaned between her pale thighs and took a deep whiff.
"Oh, yes. Keep the fishnets on - they suit you. Mmm. Someone's certainly enjoying herself, isn't she?"
Zatanna tried to speak, whether to beg him to stop or fuck her, she wasn't sure, but the words wouldn't come out.
"But we're getting ahead of ourselves, aren't we? I'm told you have magical powers and we haven't even explored those yet. I also am made to understand that you control them via speaking backwards, so you may only say backwards whatsoever I tell you to say backwards, for the time being. I think, as your patron, I desire a demonstration or two . . . and then I'll give you a very nice reward."
His hand sliding between her drenched pussy lips was a clear indicator of exactly what sort of reward she could expect . . .
***
Vicki Vale was getting frustrated.
"Look, I know she was booked in here - I just need to confirm that this is really Selina Kyle you've locked up, okay?"
The desk sergeant sighed at the pretty blonde reporter.
"Lady, I can neither confirm nor deny that we have Selina Kyle in custody, okay? She's still in processing. You'll know as soon as we get the prints back from Interpol, okay? She's so good, prior to tonight, we ain't never had her long enough to fingerprint the broad, okay? 'Sides, ain't the eyewitness testimony of a dozen people enough?"
Vicki pursed her lips. She really wanted to bury Catwoman with this story but the way she was acting . . . she almost suspected an imposter of some kind. Or, if it was her, something had happened to her to make her behave like, well, a skank. Also, she'd seen her share of fake tits before and suspected that woman's definitely weren't.
"Look, we need to verify facts. That's why it's called "The News", NOT "The Hearsay", okay? Just keep me posted." she snapped irritably before going to sit on a nearby bench.
The desk sergeant sighed. This was going to be a long night.
***
Selina Kyle heard voices from outside the interrogation room she was being held in and inwardly screamed with frustration at yet another in the line of indignities she was enduring. The handcuffs attached to the desk in front of her were something she could break out of with her eyes closed but they'd taken her gloves and any attempt to pick the lock otherwise just turned into her primping like a vapid schoolgirl or rubbing her aching tits and giggling.
"She's printed and photographed?"
"Yeah, the bimbo didn't even bother zipping up her little slut outfit first."
"Nice! You sure the Captain doesn't know yet?"
"Fuck, no! That bull dyke Sawyer would flip her shit if they knew what we were about to do. Far as anybody's concerned, Catslut here is still in processing being frisked for hidden weapons by a female officer."
Selina's eyes widened in alarm.
"Time to see if she's really as friendly as advertised. Kill the camera on the other side of the mirror, Joe."
Two burly police detectives came wandering in a few minutes later. She recognized them as two on the take pigs she'd once taught a lesson to when she was running around in the East End of Gotham. Both were big guys in their late 30's, one red-haired and fair, the other more Italian looking. One of them had a long set of three scars across his left cheek. Selina couldn't show anything but a big dumb grin or a pout on her face but she still started to sweat as they advanced on her and locked the door behind them.
"Hiya, sweetheart. I'm Detective Riley and this here's Detective Fanelli. I hear you're willing to do just about anything to get out of custody - is that right, babe?"
Next Chapters
Or add your own