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Old 11-Apr-18, 18:45
Billy Lunar Billy Lunar is offline
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Default Caught by Cat

Caught by Cat

All in all, it had gone well. No arrests, no fights, just one load of vomit and one lost coat: a result. Malcolm had actually enjoyed it. Tony knew Malcolm only casually - your typical IT nerd who was devoted to his hefty fiancé, Ella. She had generously allowed him out for his stag night with a huge list of conditions and for that reason the lads had gone easy on him - even Danny had lightened up. Tony was sure Ella would forgive her future hubby when he eventually turned up the next day, once the fire brigade had freed him from that railing. The whip marks on his ass might take a bit of explaining - hiring a dominatrix for a quick involuntary spanking was a surprise (Danny’s work again) and the bulge in Malcolm’s boxers told everyone it had been a night the deputy head of IT would remember for a long time. “No doubt who calls the shots in that bedroom,” shouted Danny as he thumped Tony on the back so hard the cabbie turned round.

“I always thought you’d like a bit of that, mate. The strict woman with the whip, eh?” Danny was at it again.
“Fuck off, Danny. You’re pissed.”
“No, no. I’m just joking mate,” protested Danny. Tony waited. Sure enough, Danny started up again.
“It’s just that, you know, there was Carolyn; dark, petite, serious, then Kaylee, she didn’t suffer fools gladly either, did she?”
“You, you mean.” Tony replied.
“Then there was that Japanese one…”
“Fuck off, Danny. This is me you’re talking to, remember.”
“I’m just saying,” grinned Danny, all mock innocence. “You might have a type, that’s all.”
“You’re so childish, Danny.” Was all Tony could come back with.

Tony and Danny went back 20 years, back to college. Danny, the wind-up merchant, the eternal teenager, all cheeky charm and banter. And like all the best wind-up merchants, always a hint of truth in the joke. Indeed, Tony himself had occasionally wondered if he favoured a certain type: smart, focussed, capable, strong.

“Of course, you know what is childish, don’t you, Tony?” Said Danny with a grin.
“Oh fuck. Don’t you dare.” Blurted out Tony.
But that was it. Danny already had that look on his face.
“Here’s one from the archives,” grinned Danny.
“Shit.”

The cab was on its way out of town. There were houses around, now.
“Hey, Driver,” said Danny. “Can you just slow down? Call of nature, mate.”
Tony knew the script. Suddenly they were eighteen again, poor students from the technical college.
“I won’t be a minute.”
“OK, boss,” replied the cabbie.

Tony felt embarrassed but was also struggling not to laugh. He had always been a good lad, and had always apologetically paid the driver. But not this time. Not after all these years. Danny wasn’t really going to do this, was he? Tony looked around the battered old minicab. No central locking. Yes, he fucking well was.

The cabbie stopped by a bus stop. Slowly, Danny opened the door and made to go towards the shelter. Tony could hardly suppress his smile as, in flash, he’d popped open his own door and was off like a shot.

“Bastards!” shouted the cabbie as they legged it. Tony felt guilty, maybe he could post the fare to the company later today, but there was more at stake, here. Danny wasn’t gonna stick it to him this time. They weren’t eighteen years old any more, they were 38. It was the principle of the thing, now. Tony gulped the early morning air, sobering up as he ran. The principle of the thing. What principles, exactly? How many shots of Tequila had he had? Fuck it.

“Ha-ha! I knew it! I knew I’d get you to run. It only took me twenty years! Ha-ha!”
Danny’s mocking tones faded away into the early morning darkness. Tony looked around him. Where the fuck was he? Where was Danny? Where the fuck was his coat? Another lost coat. Pathetic.

Tony narrowed his eyes and gathered himself. Danny would have to wait. Tony was on a housing estate, one of those old, solid fifties council ones, quite desirable now but still a bit run down.

He walked up hill and checked his phone. No signal. The night air was cold and he rubbed his white shirt sleeves. All that booze had left him with a thirst - what he wouldn’t give for a bottle of water.

No one around, no Danny, the sod’s probably jumped straight into another cab, thought Tony as he walked aimlessly along a drive and into the rear of a close. The house on the corner had that look of belonging to a guy with a few quid. The large rear gate was wide open and it looked like no-one was at home, however the garden had a nice lawn with plush garden furniture deliberately grouped around itself near the gate. Next to the seats were a couple of disposable lighters, some paper and some spent lager cans - kids, thought Tony, had sneaked in for a late-night session, but standing there amongst the debris was a bottle of Evian. Tony looked around; the kids had long gone and the house itself seemed deserted. He licked his lips and walked through the doorway onto the lawn, quickly he picked up the bottle and held it up to the spring moonlight. The cap was still bonded in place - result. In an instant he had it open and a good gulp of the cool water down his throat. His head tingled as he gasped out aloud and took in the cool, silent air. That felt good.

“Sounds like you enjoyed that.” Came a well-spoken voice behind him.
Tony spun round and looked. And looked…

The moonlight was illuminating her face: pale, small with large, black, impassive eyes, a styled black bob haircut, prominent cheekbones and a pouting, full mouth, just a hint of Arabic in that home-counties bloodline, thought Tony as he scanned her over. Good shoulders, good everything, neat in proportion, her white police blouse played off against that jet black hair and he saw a marvellous triangular shape to that 5 foot 6 physique, all the way down to her shoes, which looked more like black trainers. But it was the trousers that sent a warning signal to his brain - they were baggy and light, almost like culottes. What was holding them up? It was only then he realised that there must be some mass to her upper legs, it made the shape of the trousers work. She had no body armour on, either. She looked like a police officer, but who knew?

“Enjoying yourself?” She asked, flatly.

“Just a bottle of water,” stated Tony, coolly.
“I wasn’t referring to that.” An awkward pause.
“So, you’re a police officer, then?”
“Of course. What are you doing here? This isn’t your house, is it?”
“Well, no, I was just passing and I…”
“Just passing. Really?” She smiled. Her teeth burned bright and Tony felt himself smile involuntarily. She was pretty, better than pretty, it was proper beauty.
“Is that your water?” she continued.
“Well, what does that matter?” Asked Tony.
You’re trespassing and in possession of property that doesn’t belong to you.” She said.
Tony sneered: “Oh, very good, Officer. Officer…?”
“Cat.”
“Cat!” Snorted Tony as he broke out into derisive laughter. Theatrically, very gently, he went about placing the bottle back on to the garden table.
He warmed to his theme, turning it into a comedy bit. “Cat? What’s the matter, are the Avengers full up at the moment?”
As he was saying this, Tony thought he heard a ripping sound but he didn’t let it distract him from his brilliant miming with the bottle and his hilarious rant. He rose up again from the table.
“It’s true what they say about people in the services, innit? Power-crazed fantasists the bloody lot…”

It felt like a palm slap, he’d had a few of them in his time, but much harder. His mouth stung. His head tingled. It took him two seconds to realise what had just happened. By then she was standing stock still right in front of him on the lawn. Just a teasing flex of the toes on her right foot. Her eyes met his, they were wide, open, questioning.

“What the fuck!” Exclaimed Tony. He looked at her. Cat’s shoes were lying next to each other on the lawn, Velcro fasteners open. He strained to look in the gloom, it looked like she had socks on, maybe. Tony’s brain was trying to process the information: sex, violence, authority, sex. What the fuck to do now? As is often the case with people in confusing situations like this, authority took precedence.

“What is this? You’re not a police officer!”
Just then, as if on cue, a call came over on her radio. Cat raised her eyebrows at him, then switched the radio off. Tony just stared - so she was a real copper - did that make his situation worse, or better?

It was this last thought that really annoyed Tony. He’d never fought a woman before, and hell, maybe he’d even lose, martial arts and all that, but the fact that he had just caught himself factoring in that her being a police officer could protect him from a serious beating was too much. What the hell, there seemed to be no rules here, he’d give her a tap in the gut, she could take it, then quick past her and out through the gate, it was downhill back the way he’d come. She’d never catch him.

She was still standing there, holding the stare, silent. Five, six seconds, now. Odd, cute, sexy even, but taking the piss, Tony reasoned. He remembered the old feint he’d learned in primary school boxing from Mr Harris. The scraps he’d won with that. Left first, then right, just a quick dig in her midriff and then hop it. He moved at her, dipped his left shoulder, Tony heard the gentle rustle of her culottes as she smartly skipped to her left, took his right arm and flipped him over.

Tony sat on the grass. His right arm pointed skyward. Her clasp on his right wrist was tight and hard. He felt like he’d been caught by a superior creature and didn’t like it. Fuck Mr Harris, too.

“Get up.” Cat said.

Tony did as he was bid, all the while thinking of the next move. Cat relaxed her grip on his wrist and started to frog march Tony in the direction of the house. No way, thought Tony, no way. Slowly, he started to resist the pushing motion on his collar, Cat leaned into him to move him. Just then, Tony caught her leg with a trip and she lost her balance, going down on one knee. No-one’s above that one, thought Tony to himself as he instantly pulled away from her and ran for the gate.

He couldn’t resist it - a last comment. He pirouetted around and saw her getting to her feet. “See ya! It’s been fun!” He turned back towards the gate and ran…

Clump. A tremendous force in the small of his back sent flying face first into the grass. Tony felt light rain on the back on his head. For the first time in his life he tasted soil. His back hurt and so did his chin. He looked at the open gate - he knew now that he was never going to make it.

She had done him three times. Three moves and he had seen only one of them. He lay there face down and decided to stay where he was, partly to get his breath back, partly because it was her call, now. She was in front of him, picking up her shoes with one hand, and the water with the other. He watched that ass of hers, the controlled manner in which she went about her duties, not even giving him a glance. She seemed so placid, gentle even. Not someone who would accurately land a lightning, controlled front kick, a perfectly performed wrist throw and then lay him flat with a flying kung-fu kick to finish. Motionless, Tony watched as Cat walked towards, then past him back to the house.

“Follow me,” she commanded. She hadn’t even bothered to close the gate.

Tony heard himself groan as he got up. He knew he’d have bruises on his lower back in a while. He had no other thoughts in his head as he followed her. The rain was gathering pace. Cat walked towards the house, then veered left toward a shed-come outhouse.

“This’ll do for now. Come on.”

Tony stepped into the shed. It was carpeted and clean. Without asking he slid down the wall and onto a low bean bag chair. Cat descended opposite him onto a similar one, then switched her radio back on. The rain pounded on the roof.

All was quiet. Cat opened the water bottle and drank before passing it to Tony, who did the same. Tony needed to break the silence.

“I didn’t even see this shed at all,” he said.

“Observation,” said Cat, “They train us for that.”
Was that a joke? Tony pressed.
“Look, you‘ve just erm, kicked my ass, you know. What’s the deal with…with...”
“With what?” Cat was putting her shoes back on. Tony stopped and stared at her feet. He saw and yet couldn’t quite take it in. Cat saw him looking and spoke:

“It can get cold on night shift, that’s all.”
The seams across the toes. The mesh.
“Fucking hell,” said Tony.
The next sound was a surprise to Tony, as Cat let out a girly giggle, a good pitch higher than her usual voice. She was putting her second black trainer back on, but for some reason she lifted her leg, and flexed her foot just inches from Tony’s face, turning it to one side. There was a seam on the heel, disappearing up her trouser leg.

“I don’t believe this, said Tony as Cat’s laughter got ever louder and louder, filling the entire shed. “I just fucking don’t know what to think…”
Despite himself, a laugh escaped from Tony’s chest. He felt himself going very red.

Cat’s face was red, too. Her amazing smile was beaming into Tony, he just took it all in. Had he been the victim of police brutality? She certainly hadn’t used her baton, discreetly hanging on her left side .

“Shouldn’t you have used the baton if I was escaping?” he asked.

“D’you know, I’ve never used it.” She was flirting now. Tony stopped it.
“No. Really. You never use it, then, that’s odd. What about the trousers?”
“Well, we’ve been given a free reign on the trousers at the moment. Within reason. They’re changing them because they are too restrictive, too tight. You might have read about that.”
“Yeah,” admitted Tony. He often found himself picking out such articles in the paper but never really thought about it. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-five. I’ve been doing this for a year.”
“You’re not the standard police officer, are you?”
She laughed that laugh again. “Well, I studied dance, actually, but by the time I graduated, I don’t know, six years at arts colleges, I felt I needed something…real, I suppose.”
“Dance?”
“Yup, then there was a taekwondo class and I just went from there; judo, karate, it’s really good for you.”
“Is it?” Said Tony sardonically, his aching back chiming in.
“”Ha-ha. You could benefit, you’re not bad for…35?”
“Thirty-eight.”
“Mnmm, “ said Cat looking him over. Not bad, she said with a grin.
“You didn’t have to kick me in the back.”
“You tried to punch me in the stomach! Don’t think I haven’t forgotten that. You should be in cuffs now.”
“I was just trying to get past you.”
“I didn’t know that, did I?” replied Cat.
“And kicking to the face? Jesus.”
For the first time Cat looked contrite and briefly dropped her eyes to the floor. Tony felt his face flush and stomach warm. This wasn’t fair.
“I know,” Cat replied. “Sorry about that. You were fine, though. I can hit a five pence piece with my kicks. You weren’t in any danger at all.”
Tony surprised himself with his next question:
“What if I had have been a nutter or something?” Shut up, Grandad. Tony immediately thought to himself.
Cat looked at him, if she was disappointed she hid it. “I’m a good judge of character and I think you’ll agree I can look after myself.” A pause. “But you’ll never get it 100 per cent right. That’s life, isn’t it?”

True enough, thought Tony. He looked at her face and thought of kissing it. That throw. That power, pain and grace. He briefly closed his eyes. The rain had stopped.

And then, in a low, honest voice: “Didn’t you like it?”

Tony’s heart turned over. He opened his eyes to be met with hers, all dark and enquiring. The smile was slight but it caught him flat in the face. He felt like he’d been slammed into the shed wall. That one comment: the final, deciding blow.

“You don’t do this all the time, do you?” Was all Tony could stutter in reply.
“Of course not,” Cat replied, looking at him like he was stupid. “It has to be the…”

Tony never heard the rest of that sentence as Cat‘s radio crackled into action.
“Come on, we’ve got a ride to the station,” she said as she sprang to her feet. A tired Tony got up and followed her out into the garden. It was still chilly, Tony patted himself.

“Look, can’t you just let me off?
An apologetic look played across her face: “I called it in when I first saw you. Sorry.”
“I never heard you.”
“Well, you were happily gulping away, there. Seemed a shame to disturb you. Don’t worry. I’ll just tell them you were the worse for wear.”

As they walked outside Tony felt a mix of embarrassment and sheer bewilderment. Still, he’d take his lumps at the station, at least no-one would see him at this early hour.

However, the embarrassment Tony had felt was nothing as to what he felt when they exited the garden and turned onto the close.

There was no police car. Waiting instead was a prison transporter vehicle. The type they use for murderers, terrorists and other notorious cases.
“What?” was all Tony’s brain could think to say.
“Sorry, Cat,” said a chubby male face leaning out of the drivers’ window. “All the cars are out. The Sarge said to utilise the resources available, so…”
Lightly, Cat took Tony’s arm and escorted him to the rear of the van. Just then, a young boy came out of nowhere on his bike.

“Is he a nonce, miss?” He asked cheekily.
“You little bastard! I’ll…” Said Tony, but the boy had peddled off by then.
“I’m really sorry about this,” said Cat, trying her best not to laugh, and failing.

The male officer loaded Tony into the rear compartment. “I’ll go with him,” said Cat.
“OK. What’s he done?” asked the other officer.
“D and D.”
“Oh. Sorry, mate.” quipped the officer as he closed the door on them.

Thankfully, Tony was not in the tiny, sinister, cell-like compartment on one side of the van, but instead seated next to Cat in a group section along a narrow bench. The bench had metal loops mounted on it for handcuffs to clip on to if necessary.

“No handcuffs, then?” Offered Tony.
“I don’t use them much,” said Cat. “No need, really.” A pause.
“Handcuffs,” she said to herself. “How quaint.”

They fell silent as the van juddered on. Tony’s thoughts were arranging themselves into ominous order. Danny’s comments about a type, those stockings, the feel of her foot on his face, and above all, his motive for calling out to her when instead he could have bought himself another couple of seconds in the dash for gate. He tried to distract himself by recalling those old news clips he’d watched over the years, all those supervillains turning up to court in one of these vans. Boos from the crowd, towels over the head, etc. But what exactly was Tony guilty of? He tried to think of something else, anything, but he couldn’t. He had gone red - blushed for the first time in a good 20 years. He’d been caught, caught out, bang to rights.

He watched her checking her phone; head down, focused intently. He could see just a hint of vein on her pale neck and longed for that police blouse to unbutton itself. Was it up to him, now? He only knew he never wanted this journey to end.

After a few more seconds, end it did. With a jolt, the door was opened and with the gentlest of touches, Cat pushed him through, and out onto the forecourt of the station. Still with her hand lightly on his arm, they walked in silence into the building, the smell of stale alcohol hitting them in the face, accompanied by the sound of half-crazy ranting.

They stood together at the custody desk. Tony looked at the old desk sergeant’s pained expression. Then a squeeze on his wrist. A sharp, quick pain that went as soon as it came. Cat was looking dead ahead, but with a smile on her face. Tony quickly gave his name, address and date of birth before the sergeant asked Cat what he was here for.
“Just drunk and disorderly,” she said flatly. “He’s fine, now.” Cat let go of Tony’s arm.
“Anything else? Resisting?”
Slowly, Cat turned to Tony and gave him a hard stare that cut through his persona to his very core.
“No. Not even the minimum of force required.” She smiled that smile again.
“Right, yes, thank you, Catherine. Very poetic of you, that’s just what we need,” said the Sergeant, throwing a theatrical look around the room to motley collection of noisy drunks on offer.

A soft “Bye,” was all Tony heard. And she was gone.
“Catherine,” said Tony to himself, not realising he’d said it aloud.
“Yes, she’s very nice, Sir.” Interrupted the Sarge with another pained expression. A drunk was singing the first line of the chorus of Kylie’s “Spinning Around”. Over and over again. Another was shouting something about human rights.

“Pipe down!” Shouted the Sarge in a deafening voice. Temporary quiet.
“So,” he began. “Party, was it?”
“Stag do. Should know better,” replied Tony.
“At your age, yes.” The sergeant looked around at the chaos.
“Look, mate. Will you just accept a caution and piss off?”
“Be glad to, officer.”
Tony signed the form, his signature was rushed. He thanked the Sergeant and out. Instinct took over, now. He walked out into in the forecourt. The dawn had broken. He knew what he wanted.

His eye got there before his brain. That even stance and the tousle of black hair on the collar of her blouse was all he needed. She was with another, older female officer. He fumbled quickly for his wallet.

“Ah, yes, thanks, officer.” Announced Tony.
Cat turned round, scanned him. The eyes smiled.
“Thanks for your help, it was just a cautionary tale after all.”
The older woman grinned before throwing her hands up in mock disapproval. Tony never even noticed.
“If you need any other information on this matter, my details are here.”
Cat looked at the card.
“OK, Tony. We’ll be in touch if we need you,” she replied. The faintest of smiles.

Don’t push it, thought Tony. He took in one last look at those eyes, turned and left. That old freelance journo card had its uses after all.

Tony turned out of the station and before long found himself on a high street. The sun was coming up, now, but it was chilly. He shivered as he walked. Public transport, he decided. He couldn’t face another cab just yet.

He brushed past two laughing student girls. “Walk of shame,” he heard one say to the other. He suddenly realised he must have looked a right state. He also knew that if he never heard from Catherine again, he already owed her. Owed her so much.

And if he did hear from her? Well, this might just have been the best first date Tony had ever been on.
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  #2  
Old 12-Apr-18, 02:34
judolober judolober is offline
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Default Re: Caught by Cat

Wow! The best story I’ve seen in a looong time! Thank you!
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  #3  
Old 16-Apr-18, 13:18
Billy Lunar Billy Lunar is offline
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Default Re: Caught by Cat

Quote:
Originally Posted by judolober [Only Registered Users Can See LinksClick Here To Register]
Wow! The best story I’ve seen in a looong time! Thank you!
Thanks! I will be posting another story, featuring Cat in an action situation, next week.
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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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Old 27-Apr-18, 12:38
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Default Re: Cat 2 - Out of Control

Great story! You have an interesting way of describing action. I look forward to reading more about Cat!
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Old 14-Jun-18, 22:04
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Default Re: Caught by Cat

Cat 3 - Hot Yoga with Cat

It had been a hard week for Tony. Overtime at the office and Cat away on a police course. Diplomacy training had been one of the modules she had covered. Tony grinned at the very idea. A couple of months in to this thing and Cat almost always got what she wanted - it was just as well she was merciful.

He tried to watch the TV and not look like a big sulking teenager but he couldn’t resist yet another glance at his girlfriend. Cat was always one for fads but now here she was giving Yoga a try and commandeering Tony’s living room for her private studio.

They had both been tired when she had got back last night and a quick cuddly slice of vanilla had been enough for both of them, but that was yesterday, Tony had missed her, and he was expecting more this evening. But no, Cat was busy, apparently.

Was he being greedy? The view on offer was something else. An upside down Cat, rigid with those bright red toenails high and proud, five foot four off the ground. Firmly planted on her lower arms and elbows, she was still, and looked serene, slightly smug even, now she’d mastered the yoga headstand.

Her body was like a poised, powerful spear. The smooth aerodynamic line from her ass, up to those strong upper thighs and onward to her firm calves and up again to the point of her cute red tootsies was a magnificent sight, enough to distract Tony from her naked breasts and the slight labial outline under her skin-tight blue lycra shorts. Statuesque indeed, Tony knew just what that powerful frame could do.

“Do you have to do that now?” Tony asked.

“This is great, “ Cat replied.

“It’s just that, you know, I’ve missed you and…”

”I know what you’ve missed.”

“Look, I’m trying to watch the TV here and you’re…”

“…trying to master this technique.”

Tony decided to change tack with a bit of humour.

“I’d like some conjugals.”

“You don’t deserve any conjugals.”

Tony retreated to the kitchen, leaving Cat holding her pose in the centre of the room. He got himself a glass of cold water and returned to find Cat coquettishly bending one knee, still holding the stand firmly. Tony just sipped his iced water and stared.

“Relaxing, that, is it?” He started.

“Mmm. Not bad. You should try it.’”

“You look stupid upside down,” lied Tony. “I think I’ll come over there and tickle you. That’ll relax you.”

Cat laughed. “You know, a young guy did that to me when I’d just started the job. I was trying to caution him for disorderly conduct.”

“And did you giggle?”

A pause. “No, I took his wrist, put him on the floor and put a figure four lock onto his neck. “

“Oh.”

“Nice and tight.”

“A bit much for a tickle?”

“Actually, I knocked him out. Got a bit carried away,” Cat replied, speaking as evenly as an upside down girl can.

Tony wasn’t going to let that put him off. He flicked some ice cold water onto Cat’s firm torso. It trailed down between her firm, round breasts, over her cute chin and onto the yoga mat.

At this, Cat straightened both her legs up into the air again and exhaled sharply.

“Come over here and do that,” she said softly.

Tony grinned and stared at his girlfriend’s wonderful body. Risk and reward, he knew, but he’d come too far to stop now. Some more ice-cold water would bring her down in a heap on to the mat, then he would pounce.

Slowly, smiling, he advanced. Cat watched him with her dark eyes open wide, no expression. Tony put down the glass but not before pouring some water into his cupped hand. He stopped just a couple of feet away from her. He could hear her slow, measured breaths. Then, he made to throw the water. For a split second, he stooped down in front of Cat, and paused to take in the sexy, serene sight in front of him.

And that was his mistake.

Thwack. In an instant, Cat’s right leg, straight as an arrow, came forward and smacked Tony’s head with the top of her foot. As part of a beautifully executed headstand splits, it stunned Tony, who rocked back onto his ass. Still stunned, he lunged forward and came at Cat again, who, still in position, opened her legs holding a “Y” position on the mat.

As soon as Tony was over her, Cat clamped her powerful thighs shut, and Tony’s neck was trapped.

“Hey!” was all Tony could manage before she squeezed him into silence. Tony gasped both physically and in wonderment at the sheer strength Cat exhibited.

As Tony began to fade, she released him, whereupon he slumped to his knees right in front of her abdomen, he looked at those lycra shorts again and felt himself thinking of sex more than ever.

Cat swiftly brought her leg forward yet again, her smooth foot was now on Tony’s face. This time, she firmly pushed him back, off balance, causing him to gently go over on to his back. Down came both of Cat’s legs as she performed a neat, slow backward roll, catching his arms with her shins and pushing her firm ass brutally down on Tony’s face.

“Ah!” Said Cat contentedly as she breathed out.

“Mmm!” Squealed Tony in his aroused panic.

“That’s the yoga headstand done,” announced Cat as she pivoted round and pinned Tony down by his arms, enforcing a neat schoolgirl pin. “Now for my version of the lotus position.” Tony was still catching his breath as Cat held out her arms to the sides, pinched fingers upward, adopting a mock serene pose. She exhaled deeply and opened her legs, coming down gently on to Tony’s throat.

“I told you this was relaxing, didn’t I, love?” Said Cat with a wicked grin. Tony thought it was best to stay silent at this point. Slightly, Cat increased the pressure on Tony’s throat. Tony could see some beads of sweat running over her shorts.

“You see, the idea with yoga is to enforce these positions in an attempt to get closer to Nirvana.” She rocked ever so gently.

“You can feel that, can’t you? Close to a heavenly state?

Tony felt himself getting even harder.

“I feel it.” He quickly replied. His voice impaired by her pelvis.

“Gooooooood!” exclaimed Cat. Bringing herself tighter still onto Tony’s throat. She smiled calmly at Tony as she did, Tony involuntarily beaming contentedly back at her, even though he was close to passing out. Overpowered by those deep, dark eyes, he wanted her now more than ever.

Suddenly, Cat sprung off the balls of her feet and upright, leaving a red-faced Tony pasted to the floor. He gasped out, his throat released. He lay there for a few seconds and listened obediently .

“You really need to get into this, Tony. It would be good for you to get a little chakric balance in your life. Take things easier and stop rushing about at your age.”

Tony sat up, still a little dazed, and turned to watch Cat at the far side of his living room. She was ascending the open-plan stairs to the bedroom.

“You need to be more patient, Tony. All things come to he who waits.”

He was mesmerised by her perfect body, by her impossibly sexy teasing and by her amazing naked ass as it went upstairs. Tony steadied himself with his hands as he got up off the floor as fast as he could and followed Cat, never breaking his gaze as she twirled those shorts around on the end of her finger tip.
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