Thread: Caught by Cat
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Old 27-Apr-18, 03:07
Billy Lunar Billy Lunar is offline
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Default Cat 2 - Out of Control

Cat 2 - Out of Control


Cat spun, and spun and spun. The music was the Arabic disco she’d first heard in dance classes nearly a decade before - she adored it. Eventually she came to a stop. Only then she realised the music had finished.

She loved it here, the local community sports hall: advanced karate, beginner’s badminton, pensioners old-time dancing, it all happened at the sports hall. Bill, the old caretaker, let her have the keys on Tuesday nights after eight - the only time of the week it was not in use. A thank you for letting him off when she had caught him driving with expired tax. Cat had the place to herself till ten, every week. Here, she did whatever she liked.

As usual she’d failed to stick to one task. Wearing a black lycra sleeveless all-in-one, Cat began with some kicks on the free-standing heavy bag. Then she had popped her CD into the player and danced around the spotless wooden floor, light as feather and leaping into the air with force of a missile.

Breathing a little hard, she looked at herself in the mirror on the front wall. Clad in the black lycra, her white, toned arms stood out from her solid frame, her skin’s light colour straining to be seen only around those upper thighs, just slightly upsetting the willowy perfection of her figure. She smiled her bright-toothed grin, red colour in those pale cheeks, all framed by her shaggy black bob cut. Not bad for a plain girl.

She remembered herself as an anxious teenager: one of the last girls in her year to show breasts, her sudden growth spurt had coincided with a strange incident when two boys from the neighbouring school tried to rough her up for her lunch money. Catherine had been surprised by how easily she had tripped and pinned the more aggressive boy down to the floor, and stunned by the strange look on his face when he realised his fate was in her hands. Cat laughed to herself as she recalled how she had pretended not to notice his erection when she quietly got off him. The other boy had long ran off. That time was the beginning of the journey - from Catherine to Cat. The self-belief, the dedication, the expression. The other thing.

Cat realised time was getting on and gave the bag one last roundhouse kick before wheeling it to the storage area. As she did so, she heard a bang. It was followed by the sound of a couple of footsteps, then nothing.

Cat was stock still. She listened intently as again she heard steps. This time from the far wall. Instantly she knew. Behind that wall was the canteen area, which included the fire door which had been forced six months earlier - the last time the centre had been burgled. Typical burglars, thought Cat, leaving it just long enough for the centre to stock up on goods again before a return visit. She had advised Bill to go for a stronger, more expensive door but money, of course, was always a factor. And now they were back.

The door at the far end of the hall opened and in walked a tall, wiry man with a weather-beaten face. Cat instantly saw the angry look on his face which was confirmed by the first word out of his mouth: “Bitch”.

Briskly he walked towards her, scanning the rest of the room. Cat balanced her feet and looked at him. He was in his late thirties, she guessed, with a face that told of a long, petty criminal life. No points for that. It’s only now that counts. Focus.

The man very rapidly looked Cat up and down and sneered. His right arm moved in with what was going to be a violent shove. Cat stepped to her left, bounced, and hit him with a front kick to the chin. He stopped in his tracks but did not recoil. His matter-of-fact response almost unsettled her.

“You’ll fucking pay for that.” Focus.

Cat stood, side-on and waited. The man rushed her, getting a hand on her left shoulder before Cat could drop to the tomenage throw. With her foot nestled firmly in his chest, he went over her head and hit his foot against the wall as he did so. He groaned but said nothing, got to his feet and turned. Cat watched him and knew he wasn’t going to give this up.

They squared up again, a good six inches in height between them. The man breathed hard as he threw a right aiming down to her head, but Cat swayed and hit him a glancing blow with her right sidekick, her tight-clad leg returning to the standing position as fast as it had struck. He never noticed and swung another wild right which caught Cat on the side of her cheek. Pain. Real.

Sensing momentum, the man moved in to grab her but Cat caught him with a straight right to the chin. At the last second she raised her left forearm to block another right, then she punched him hard in the stomach, jumping neatly off the balls of her feet as she did so. “Ya!” she yelled. This blow seemed to register as he took a back step and breathed hard. You’ve never actually boxed before.

“Cunt,” was all he said as he advanced yet again. Cat was stuck mid-thought about what to do next. Taek? Judo? Boxercise had been her only boxing experience, though her taekwondo sparring had usually sufficed. In that very instant, the man grabbed Cat by the throat. Swiftly, Cat took his hand and kicked him on the upper thigh, missing his crotch but at least breaking the grip. She looked into his pale eyes - nothing. Horrible.

He came at her yet again, silent. The only noise in the hall was the sound of their breathing and their feet on the wooden sprung floor - his clunking thuds, hers padding gently. He threw another right. Cat moved inside his arm so it missed her and hit him with an upper cut to the chin which, at last, stunned him. Right in front of him, now, and staring into his throat, Cat was finally directing this dance. Rapidly, she rained two punishing blows from each of her fists into his abdomen, bringing his head down. Two more flat smacks to his chin echoed around the hall and brought the staggering burglar to his knees. Cat had already skipped behind him. Choke.

This would be the third time Cat had used the rear choke in the line of duty. She was always surprised at how quick it kicked in. Still standing, Cat tightened her arms around the man’s defenceless neck, leaning into his back as she squeezed. The man gasped and promptly went limp. She was sure he exhaled a word as he flaked out. ‘Cunt’ again by the sound of it. Cat let go and the man slumped on his side to the floor. Done.

There were handcuffs in Cat’s gym bag in the corner of the hall. She stood over her opponent and inspected his six foot frame: powerless, limp. The feeling. You’d better cuff him now, hadn’t you?

Cat fetched the cuffs and applied them to the burglar. The feeling was lurking in the background, but there was something else, too. A sense. She instantly stood up and looked around to see a second, younger man watching her by the canteen doorway.

Unknown to Cat, he had been there for a good half minute. After wedging the fire door open, he had come through to follow his pal but had been stunned still by the sight across the hall. A gorgeous brunette in a black catsuit dancing nimbly inside Big Davey’s attempted haymakers, then quickly punching him to his knees, all the while moving smartly from one foot to the other, shifting the weight on that powerful, tight, lycra-clad ass. And that chokeout. Like he was just a piece of meat. The impassive look on her face. This only happened in the movies.

The young man walked towards her. In his head he wasn’t sure why.

Cat watched him advance. Everything was the same as before, yet totally different. This man was about twenty years old, maybe a year or two older. Fresh-faced, he smiled. As he got closer he made a big effort at turning his smile into such an unconvincing frown that Cat almost laughed. He was about five foot eight. Just my size.

Shit, Cat thought to herself. The feeling was here.

“Where did you get those handcuffs? Are you a pig?”
“Yup.”
“Oh,” replied the young man, thinking for something to say. “Look, you can’t arrest him. You know I can’t let you do that. I’ll just wake him and take him with me, yeah? You’ve already embarrassed him enough.”

The young man couldn’t help but stare at Cat. That smile, the beads of sweat on her neck. Those shoulders. She was just a few feet away from him, now. How he wanted to close that gap.

“You know I can’t do that,” Cat said.
Cat tilted her head at the young man, who laughed, despite himself.

Cat, Cat, Catty.

Suddenly, Cat skipped up on to her toes and tiptoed just inches away from the young man. “You just sit down by your friend and don’t move, while I call for a ride for the pair of you.”
“What?” The young man blurted out.
“You’re nicked, both of you. Now sit down there and keep him company. I’ll call in a nice ride for you. You can watch me work out while we wait.”
The young man just stood there, speechless.
“Do as you are told,” instructed Cat with a smile, “or I’ll place you down there myself, if you like.”

The young man thought of all his girlfriends. Push overs, most of them, despite protests to the contrary. How he’d dreamed of a woman who…

But this was no good. Police, not helping big Davey. Time to go.

He made to leave but Cat bounded in his way, just inches from his face. It took all his energy to watch her heaving chest and listen to that lovely posh-girl voice.

Cat spoke again, her voice harder, now: “I said ‘do you want me to carry you over there myself’?”

The young man was on the point of freezing. Somehow, his brain told him to make an effort, to spring himself off his left foot and run. He never got to that second step.

The young man was now looking into those huge, black, almond eyes. The smile was beautiful, bright. He smiled back, he couldn’t help it. Her bear hug grip was tight and hard, slightly painful.

“So be it. I’ll put you there myself.”

“Hey! I…” Was all he could manage.

Cat tightened her grip ever so slightly. She controlled his breathing, now. Kiss him.

The young man could have head-butted her, stomped her naked foot, grabbed her by the throat. None of these occurred to him. If these thoughts occurred to Cat, they were well tucked away in another part of her brain, now. The young man just stiffened, and stared.

Cat tightened her grip again, till the boy started to gasp and whimper. Quickly, she let go of the hug and held on to him to stop him slumping to the ground, before throwing his shoulder over hers and taking his upper thigh. Mine, now.

Cat felt his erection in her back as she carried him the ten metres across to his buddy. Slowly, she squatted down with boy over her back before kneeling and placing him to the ground. Quietly, he moaned to himself as she did so.

The young man lay on his back. Watching as the vision in black made a call on her phone. She was beautiful, she was strong. He didn’t want to leave.

Cat calmly phoned in the shout. A police car was on its way for one of its own. She put the phone neatly back in her bag, stood up straight and looked at the two men on the floor by the wall. Big Davey, cuffed and pretending to still be unconscious, the young man in a dream world. My bitches!.

Cat flicked on the CD player again, brushed the sides of her thighs and began to dance to her Arabic disco. Starting slowly, she crouched, gyrated, shimmied. Then, she started to spin close to the young man. Once, the Cat stopped in front of him. She offered him her right foot. All dainty, bright red toenails.

“Hmmm?” Enquired the Cat. Mmmm.

The young man kissed it gently, slowly, like he’d never kissed anything before. The foot was withdrawn a second later as the Cat swirled about in front of him.

The young man now wanted to do four things at once; massage his cock, stay where he was, and charge at Cat to fight her and fuck her. A second later he decided to go with a fifth option and escape, when he heard Big Davey whisper to him: “Do something, you fucking prick.”

The young man watched on adoringly but Big Dave had now broken the spell. He knew this mean bastard never forgive him for doing nothing and he would have to leave town. But he could never, ever, harm a hair on this divine creature’s head. Even if he could. Escape was now his only option.

Cat was at one with the music, now. No words in her head, all was as it should be. She ran around the floor and, just as the tune reached its coda, Cat unleashed a wild and high jete leap, landing solidly and smartly by the right-hand wall. It was beautiful in its power and grace. Reluctantly, the young man decided it was the perfect point at which to run.

He rose and ran down the left side of the hall for the canteen door.

The CD moved onto the next track, a loud and traditional Arab pipe played but was drowned out by the otherworldly high shriek from the Cat as it shot across the room and embraced its smaller bitch; climbing up the prey’s side, holding its head, then mounting its shoulders with a loud, contented purr.

Caught in her dominating legs, the young man froze. He could be killed, now. He felt the soft, strong, warm power around his neck, breathed in her sweat. Conquered, he instinctively dropped to his knees.

The Cat gently brushed the young man’s hair before standing behind him. She found her human tongue again as she wrapped her arms softly around his neck.
“You saw me do this earlier, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“You want me to do this. Don’t you?”
“Yes.”
This time, the Cat also wrapped her powerful thighs around his waist and clung to him. He was a mere statue now as slowly, her arms stopped his blood flow. He sighed as he succumbed to the choke, his last sensation the quickest of licks on his neck. A treat for my good bitch.

He went limp in her grip. The Cat held him as a he wheezed. She was warm, tingly. The feeling was here. Who said cats don’t like to get wet? Tony, where are you?

Gently, Cat laid the still boy down. No cuffs. Big Davey still leaned fully conscious and cuffed against the front wall. He looked away, refusing to acknowledge this horror show.

Cat wanted to play with her pet, but the noise of a car pulling onto the drive outside brought her to her feet. The feeling would have to wait, now. It should have never been allowed to happen at all. It was unprofessional. Quickly, Cat took her black kilt from her bag and wrapped it around her trim waist, stepped into her flats, tied her red sweater around her shoulders and heard the young man gasp back into consciousness. All was proper again. The backup had arrived.

Big Davey couldn’t wait to go quietly with the two police officers. The young man, however, walked slowly back to the police car, casting a meaningful glance back to his beautiful capturer, who merely shot him a polite, “mind how you go” expression in return. She had done enough for him already, telling the officers that he was just Big Davey’s dupe. Why she had done this had nothing to with the facts of the case, she knew. It was another unprofessional act in a career that was already spiralling rapidly out of control just one year in. Cat knew that both men would omit the wilder aspects of tonight’s events when questioned: Big Davey through shame, the young man through embarrassment, but it was still a massively wild risk. Cat would have to do something about this, but not tonight.

All gone, statements given, Cat locked up the centre and got into her car. She took out her phone and texted her new boyfriend, Tony.

Hey Tony. I’m free right now. Pop round and see me ASAP. I’ll fix something for you.

Two weeks of dating, teasing. Tonight would be Tony’s lucky night.
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