Chapter 4: Debate
The cavernous room was a symphony of shadows and whispers, the air thick with the musk of Catwoman's desire and the echoes of their heated exchange. The neon lights cast a kaleidoscope of colors across the twisted metal and mirrored walls, creating a dizzying effect that seemed to shimmer and dance. The very atmosphere pulsed with an electric charge, a tension that was as palpable as it was intoxicating.
Catwoman's smile was a predator's curl, her green eyes flickering with a wicked gleam as she watched Kara struggle with the primal urges awakened by their proximity.
She could see the conflict in Kara's eyes, the battle between duty and desire, and she reveled in it. She wanted to see Kara break, to watch the good girl crumble beneath the weight of her own needs.
"You're right, I don't know what I'm talking about," Catwoman whispered, her voice a sultry purr that sent a shiver down Kara's spine. "But I know what I'm feeling. And I know what you're feeling, Kara.
You're feeling me," Catwoman murmured, her lips brushing against Kara's ear, her voice a low, sensual growl that sent shivers down Kara's spine. She could feel Catwoman's breath on her neck, the soft puffs of air that sent goosebumps racing across her skin. She could feel the heat of Catwoman's body, the press of her curves against her own, the slow grind of her hips that made Kara's breath hitch in her throat.
Kara's grip on Catwoman's hair tightened, a harsh tug that made the thief gasp.
She could feel Catwoman's breath hot on her ear, her voice a low, sultry growl that sent shivers down her spine. "You're playing with fire, Kara."
Kara's resolve crumbled under the onslaught of primal desires. She couldn't fight this anymore. She didn't want to. She wanted to feel, to taste, to fuck. She wanted to burn in the inferno Catwoman promised.
"Let's see how hot you can get, cat," Kara growled, her voice a rough rasp. She spun Catwoman around, slamming her against the nearest wall.
The mirrors reflected the scene, casting multiple images of their struggle. Kara could see the raw desire in Catwoman's eyes, the need that matched her own. She didn't want to fight anymore. She wanted to fuck.
She ground her body against Catwoman's, feeling the thief's sharp intake of breath. Catwoman's hands gripped Kara's hips, pulling her closer, grinding her against the hard length of her whip. Kara could feel it, thick and long, pressing against her belly, and she moaned, the sound deep and primal.
"Fuck, cat," she growled, her teeth clenched.
"You want it? You want me to fuck you until you can't remember your own name?"
Catwoman's eyes widened in surprise, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she arched her hips, grinding herself against Kara's hardness. "Yes," she hissed, her voice a husky whisper. "Fuck me, Kara. Show me what you're made of."
Kara's hands moved to Catwoman's waist, her fingers digging into the soft flesh as she lifted her off the ground. Catwoman's legs wrapped around Kara's hips, her arms snaking around Kara's neck as she gasped.
"Yes, fuck, yes," she panted, her voice a harsh whisper as Kara's hands gripped her ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh as she lifted her higher, pressing their bodies together.
The room spun around them, a kaleidoscope of shadows and colors as the neon lights reflected off the twisted metal and mirrored walls. The air was thick with the scent of sex, a primal musk that drove Kara wild. She could taste Catwoman's desperation, smell her arousal, and it sent her own body into overdrive.
Kara ground her hips against Catwoman's, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through her body.
She could feel the heat of Catwoman's pussy through her suit, the wetness soaking through the thin fabric. She wanted more. She needed more.
"Fuck, Catwoman," Kara growled, her hands tightening on her hips. "You're so goddamn wet."
Catwoman laughed, a low, sultry sound that sent shivers down Kara's spine. "You have no idea how long I've been imagining this, Supergirl. You and me, alone, with no one to stop us."
Kara's eyes narrowed, her lips curling into a wicked smile.
"You're mine now, Catwoman. And I'm going to fuck you so hard, you'll never want to leave."
Her hands moved to the zipper of Catwoman's costume, her fingers fumbling with the fastening as she struggled to free herself from the confines of her own suit.
Barbara's eyes widened as she took in the scene before her. She had been lying on the ground, her back against a pile of crates, her body shook with the force of the whip that had sent her crashing to the ground. She had been dazed, her vision swimming with stars, but as her senses returned, she became aware of the strange, sticky sensation that clung to her costume. She looked down, her eyes widening in horror as she saw the glue that coated her suit, clawing at the fabric, threatening to tear it apart.
Her heart pounded in her chest, a primal urge to flee warring with the knowledge that she couldn't leave Kara and Catwoman to this. She wasn't sure what had happened, what Catwoman had done, but she knew one thing—she needed backup. Now.
She fumbled for her communicator, her fingers brushing against the cool metal of the device as she flipped it open. "Batman," she gasped, her voice barely above a whisper. "I need help. It's Catwoman. She's... she's done something to me."
The line crackled to life, static filling her ears as she waited for Batman's response. She could feel the weight of time, the seconds turning into minutes as she struggled to keep her breath steady, to keep her voice from trembling. She needed help, and she needed it now.
But all she could hear on the line was static, the crackle of interference that seemed to mock her desperate plea. She tried again, her voice a whimper in the dark. "Batman, please. I can't... I can't move." The words tumbled out, a jumbled mess of panic and fear. She could feel the glue spreading, could feel her costume sticking to her skin, her muscles seizing up as the substance tightened its grip.
"Batman," she gasped, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "Please, I need you." But there was no response, no comforting baritone to calm her racing heart.
She was alone. Truly alone. And as she looked up, she could see the glow. A soft, ethereal light that cast long, eerie shadows on the twisted metal and mirrored walls.
The glow seemed to emanate from Catwoman herself, her eyes widening with a newfound hunger as she bent her head to Kara's neck. Before Kara could react, Catwoman's mouth was on her skin, her teeth sinking into the soft flesh of her neck. Kara gasped, a sharp, surprised sound that echoed through the cavernous room. The pain was intense, a blinding, white-hot agony that seared through her body, but it was quickly replaced by a strange, intoxicating euphoria. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, the blood rushing through her veins as Catwoman drank from her, and she realized with a shock that this was no ordinary bite. This was something else, something ancient and primal, something that transcended the boundaries of pleasure and pain.
Kara's hands trembled as she unzipped Catwoman's suit, the motion jerky and uncertain as she grappled with the turbulent cocktail of emotions that coursed through her veins. The sight of Catwoman's fangs buried in her neck should have horrified her, should have sent her into a frenzy of super-powered retaliation. But the sensation of her blood being drawn, the slow, sensual pull that seemed to draw the very essence of her being out into the night, was unlike anything she had ever felt before. It was intoxicating, addictive, and it left her craving more.
Kara's breath hitched as she felt Catwoman's body shift against hers, the thief's hands moving to her own suit, eagerly seeking the fastenings.
Kara's mind was a whirlwind of sensation and confusion, her body on fire with a desire she couldn't quite comprehend. She wanted this, wanted Catwoman with a ferocity that left her breathless, but she also needed to understand what was happening to her.
Meanwhile, Barbara struggled to free herself from the grasp of the adhesive, her heart pounding in her chest like a drumbeat. She could feel the glue tightening around her limbs, the fabric of her costume stretching taut against her skin as she fought to move. Panic surged through her, her eyes darting around the room in search of something, anything, that might help her escape. She saw a rusted metal crate nearby and reached out, her fingers brushing against the rough edges as she tried to grab onto it. The crate wobbled beneath her touch, sending shards of metal scattering across the floor.
Barbara's heart pounded in her chest, a primal urge to flee warring with the knowledge that she couldn't leave Kara and Catwoman to this. She could feel the glue tightening around her legs, the fabric of her costume stretching taut against her skin as she struggled to move. She tried to take a deep breath, to calm herself, but the glue constricted her chest, making it difficult to inhale.
"Fuck!" she gasped, her voice a harsh whisper as she tried to pull herself free. The glue was everywhere, clawing at her costume, threatening to tear it apart.
Barbara struggled, her breath coming in short gasps, her heart pounding in her chest like a drumbeat. She couldn't move, couldn't break free from the sticky substance that held her captive. She looked up, her eyes widening as she saw Kara and Catwoman, their bodies intertwined, their clothing discarded, their naked forms silhouetted against the neon lights.
Suddenly, Kara's eyes rolled back, her head lolling to the side as she let out a low moan. Catwoman's eyes widened, a primal hunger flashing in their green depths as she watched Kara's reaction to her bite. "You like that, don't you, Supergirl?