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The following story contains characters owned by DC Comics/Warner Bros.  It is written as a fanfic parody story not intended to make any use of actual story lines in published books.  The story is purely for fun, with no profit to be made by the author.
 
 
A word about this story...
 
 Gunslinger (a contributing author) had a story contest in July, 1998. Steve Zink (another author) won 2nd place, but was given the 1st place award of a personalized story by that prolific writer, Gunslinger himself! Since Steve is such a fan of Catwoman stories and a prolific writer himself of stories involving Catwoman, he is going to be finding out directly what being Catwoman is like.

 
 
 As the computer hummed softly, Steve lifted his hand from where it rested on the mouse and brought it up to his face. Pushing his glasses up, he absently rubbed the bridge of his nose where they rested, then let them drop back into place as he returned his attention to his browser.
 
 Outside, the world lay wrapped in the blanket of night as Steve once more bent over his computer. He shifted his husky frame into a more comfortable position in the chair, and peered at the monitor, it's pale light flickering across his face in abstract patterns. He frowned as the site he'd gone to spawned three more popup windows, bogging the main page down as each of the windows loaded their own information - in this case, advertisements of some sort. Sighing angrily, Steve moved to close the annoying windows.
 
 Then stopped, one eyebrow slowly climbing, as one of the window's contents caught his eye.
 
 FOR THE LADIES

Want to spice up your fantasy life? EROTOY, Inc., is proud to introduce it's new line of VR suits for home use. Each suit comes with a special 'Fantasy' CD-ROM, containing an erotic scenario to be used with the suit. Currently, our line consists of: 'The French Maid' 'Damsel in De' Dress' 'The Cat Woman' And, for the first one responses, we have a special introductory price - only $99.99, a savings of more than $400!
 
 Steve slowly leaned back in the chair, which creaked softly. He closed his eyes and considered. One of Steve's interests - some would say 'obsessions' - was the DC Comics character 'Catwoman', made famous by the resurgence of interest with the Batman movies. He's already written many stories on the Internet starring variations of the feline criminal, and had many pictures on hard-drive featuring the different incarnations of her.
 
 The offer of the 'Cat Woman' on the screen intrigued him. Of course, due to copyright, it wouldn't be THE Catwoman, but still...
 
 Opening his eyes, Steve hesitated for a second longer - then leaned forward and clicked on the link, typing in his first initial and last name before entering a credit-card number.
 
 * * * * *
 
 In the year of our lord nineteen-hundred and thirty-nine, a German mathematician and scientist by the name of Albert Einstein published a paper, in which he stunned the scientific community by proving, among other things, that time was NOT a constant, but was relative to outside forces - thus, under the correct stimuli, duration of an event could be expanded.
 
 Steve discovered the truth of this mathematical anomaly during the next '4 to 6 weeks'. Although, intellectually, he KNEW the package wouldn't arrive early, his emotions HOPED that it would. As he went about his life, the anticipation tinged every experience as his thoughts kept circling in anticipation.
 
 So, on that particular Saturday morning when he answered the doorbell and saw a UPS delivery man, his body was suddenly flooded with adrenaline. His hands shook with repressed excitement as he signed for the bulky package, and accepted it from the delivery man. Hurriedly closing the door, he carried the package over to his computer and, dropping into the chair, began to open it with eager hands. If his parents had of been present, they would have remarked on how reminiscent the scene was to many Christmas' when Steve was young.
 
 Removing the 'plain brown wrapping', Steve tossed it negligently aside and pulled open the side of the garishly decorated box. Upending it, he emptied the contents onto the floor and looked them over.
 
 First, he picked up the shrink-wrapped CD-ROM case and placed it on the desk, along with the instruction booklet. Next, he picked up the VR suit and carefully laid it out, untangling the wires and the 'auxiliary CPU' box that were attached to it.
 
 Finally, he picked up the last item - a complementary 'souvenir' Cat Woman suit. Carefully, he looked this item over.
 
 Designed as a bonus giveaway, it was made to the specifications of the fiction woman that the player/user was playing the role of, and as such, was most definitely unrealistic. Steve doubted that any real woman would wear such an outfit, so erotically outrageous.
 
 Made of a combination of leather and latex, the suit was all black. Because it was never designed to actually be worn, the designers could ignore comfort or ease. There was no simple zipper, as a 'real' suit would have - instead, each closure was black leather strings through black metal grommets. Likewise, the actual 'figure' of the suit was unrealistic, the proportions idealized from the norm. Even the black mask, with it's 'cat ears' would be difficult for most women to get on. And the 7 inch spike heel boots difficult to walk in.
 
 It also came with 'accessories' - the long, leather whip with a decidedly phallic handle, a tight, black belt containing 'her' tools, and a set of 'retractable claws' for the suit's built-in gloves.
 
 Steve's lips quirked up in a grin. Even if the VR was useless, the price he'd paid was made up for by owning this suit. Carefully, he arranged it on a hanger and placed it in his closet. Then, returning to the computer, he began to look over the VR suit.
 
 Of course, the term 'suit' was misleading. It was more or less a bewildering array of wires, pads, goggles and other devices, mounted on adjustable straps and attached to an 'auxiliary CPU'. The most recognizable pieces were the helmet and the gloves.
 
 Picking up the instructions, Steve began to follow the step-by-step instructions - the first being to shut down the computer and hook the suit up to an I/O port. This was followed by rebooting and installing the software, followed by a second reboot. Only now was he ready to start pulling on the suit.
 
 Carefully following the diagrams and instructions, Steve began pulling everything in place - with a few necessary modifications, since the suit was designed for a woman. Finally, everything was in place - including the helmet. Two tiny camera's on the 'face' of the helmet allowed him to work in the 'real' world without having to take the bulky headgear off. Making sure not to tangle the myriad wires, Steve lowered himself into his chair, and carefully clicked on the icon to play...
 
 ...and was rewarded with an error message. He cursed softly as the program ran a self-diagnostic and, unable to find the problem, suggested that he try their website. With a sigh, Steve slipped into the browser and typed in the URL.
 
 Only, thanks to the bulky, awkward gloves, he didn't quite type in the correct location. Steve failed to notice that, instead of:
 
 www.redline.org/play/secure.shtml
 
 he'd entered:
 
 www.medlink.org/cray/secure.shtml
 
 Failing to notice his mistype, when the user prompt came up asking for his name and user number, provided with the suit, he entered it.
 
 And in a billion to one chance, what he entered - with the three mistypes he entered in the info - accessed the site.
 
 * * * * *
 
 A thousand miles away, in a large, meticulously clean room, a tall, pale blue quartet of towers hummed to life as the powerful Mk. II Cray computer received Steve's password. A medical research computer, the massive supercomputer awaited instructions. What it received, however, was the automatic link with the CD-ROM, coupled with the information from the VR suit.
 
 The Cray, mechanically accepting the information as valid medical data, compared the readings from the VR suit to the 'parameters' from the CD-ROM. Being a computer, it had no way of knowing that the information on the CD-ROM was a fantasy character from a game - it took it as actual data.
 
 And it compared it to the information from the VR suit and found thousands of discrepancies. Almost immediately, even the massive processing power of the supercomputer bogged down from the sheer differences between the data.
 
 Even a year ago, such a result would have ended in a temporary 'hold', until a human technician would look it over. And the technician would have realized what was happening, shut down the connection, and that would have been it.
 
 But the Meddling Cray had recently been hooked up to the 'UltraWeb', a high-speed connection between many other major world systems.
 
 So, after considering this data for nearly two full seconds - an eternity to the Cray - it 'debated' it's options.
 
 And, faced with this insoluble dilemma, the Cray 'cried for help'.
 
 * * * * *
 
 At the National Security Agency, a technician, waiting for a code-breaking program, working on Iraqi military transmission, to finish it's run, frowned as an error message popped up.
 
 "What the Hell?" she blurted. For the first time in her life, a Cray computer was flashing this particular message at her.
 
 'ALL AVAILABLE RESOURCES BUSY'
 
 * * * * *
 
 "Doctor Patience!"
 
 The Russian physicist sighed. "What is it, Serge?"
 
 "The Tumansky Supercomputer is giving me an error message!"
 
 The physicist chuckled. "So, what else is new, my young apprentice. It IS a RUSSIAN machine after all - God knows we get enough error messages."
 
 His younger colleague jabbed a finger at the screen. "But, Comrade Professor...LOOK!"
 
 The bearded doctor leaned over - then turned to stare at Serge.
 
 "Why in Marx' name is the error message in ENGLISH?"
 
 * * * *
 
 In a factory in Tokyo, a University in Berlin and a secure military installation in Israel (which, ironically, had been performing the same duty as the one at the NSA), three other users were asking the same question.
 
 * * * *
 
 In the space of a few mere seconds, more then a dozen supercomputers, across the globe, linked together, more computing power then had ever been assembled before in the history of mankind. For several seconds, the massed might of the linked computers examined the data, accessing reference files (including many top-secret government and military ones), and 'debated' the 'problem'.
 
 And found a solution...
 
 * * * * *
 
 For Steve, there was merely a fifteen-point-one-seven-five second delay after entering his code. Just long enough for him to begin to move one hand toward the mouse to see if anything had locked up.
 
 Then the massed might of the linked computer's came screaming through his modem line and began to reprogram the 'incorrect data' - which just happened to be his DNA.
 
 Steve's first thought as the voltage slammed into him was that he was having a heart attack. His muscles locked as the current flooded his body - but unlike normal electricity, this was a signal, containing commands to directly alter his DNA in ways never conceived.
 
 Steve shuddered - and screamed incoherently in shock as his body began to alter.
 
 His body hair tumbled from rapidly shrinking pores to a fine pile on the floor as his skin texture began to change. At the same time, the supercomputers began to alter his 'inefficient' musculature, reshaping the muscle-masses as they did so.
 
 Steve had a bare second to notice the way the contours of his legs and arms were changing before an intense pulling sensation at his waist drew his gaze down to where his normally thirty-four-inch waist was compressing in on itself. It was passing the thirty-inch mark when the sudden sensations on his chest demanded his attention. He gasped in shock as he watched mounds of flesh began to form behind rapidly swelling nipples, forming definite breasts.
 
 At this point, his cock began to shrivel and pull inwards, underlining what exactly what was happening to his body.
 
 At that point, Steve did what any sane human being would do, faced with such a situation.
 
 He fainted.
 
 * * * *
 
 For the first few seconds after regaining consciousness, Steve was sure that what had happened had all been some confused, weird dream.
 
 And then he moved.
 
 With a grace and agility he'd never possessed, he came upright in one smooth, fluid motion, almost seeming to levitate off the floor with - well, catlike agility. Stunned, he slowly, approached a full-length mirror, moving unconsciously with a smooth, graceful - and sexy - stride, to stand before the silver-backed glass to confront...
 
 ...a goddess.
 
 He - no, most definitely SHE - was about the same height as before. But that was the only similarity.
 
 She was slender, with idealized proportions that, while human-looking, were outside the realm of human contours. Small, dainty feet led from the floor to impossibly sexy legs that seemed to rise forever before meeting the smooth swelling of feminine hips. Nestled between her perfect thighs, framed by a small, even patch of raven hair, was her new womanhood.
 
 Above this, her waist narrowed to an impossible twenty-one inches before swelling to a ribcage that supported a pair of immense, almost perfectly spherical breasts. Refusing to sag in the slightest, the creamy mounds were surmounted by large, pink nipples that were frankly feminine.
 
 Above these magnificent breasts were strong yet feminine shoulders that supported a graceful neck. Her face was a study in contrasts - angelically beautiful with enough of the demon to project power and sensuality. A halo of glorious black hair framed the face, with it's pert yet strong nose between the full, seductive lips and the smoldering dark eyes.
 
 Her entire body was almost too perfect. Her skin tone was so fine, it was almost like living silk, with a faint, glossy sheen not unlike her perfect hair. Not a blemish, mark or scar marred it's perfect surface. Idly, she notice that she even lacked finger prints.
 
 "My God..." She whispered, stunned, in her rich new contralto. For all her obsession with Catwoman, her writing of fiction, her daydreaming... NOTHING had prepared her for it ACTUALLY happening. She was, quite simply, stunned.
 
 Slowly, a smile curled her full, ripe lips. Steve - no, she decided, Selina - realized her secret fantasy had somehow come to living, breathing reality. Slowly, she stretched, feeling the liquid, agile power of her new body.
 
 "I'm going to have some fun..." she whispered smugly, moving towards the closet, and taking out the black catsuit. Gracefully, she began to dress. She quickly pulled on the black bodysuit, her inhuman dexterity allowing her to tie the otherwise impossible fastenings. Next, she pulled on the extremely high-heeled boots, finding she balanced easily on the spike heels. The belt was next, to which she clipped the whip. The final item was the mask, which fit over her gorgeous face. Designed for the fictional body she now possessed, the outfit fit perfectly, emphasizing her spectacular figure. Smiling at the stunning figure in the mirror, she moved with catlike grace, leaving the building - via a back window. She was amazed at how easily she could balance, climb and jump, with amazing agility and almost no effort.
 
 Three blocks away, she was slinking, unseen, from shadow to shadow, when she found herself staring at a car parked in a dark driveway - an Italian built sports car, the Panterra.
 
 Suddenly, to her shock, she was moving towards it. Before she fully comprehended what she was doing, she'd used her long, retractable claws to pop the lock, climb in, and hot-wire the sports car. It was only as the powerful engine roared to life did she realize what she was doing.
 
 "What the fuck?" she gasped. She'd performed the actions without thought - or will.
 
 He moment of shock was broken by lights coming on in the house. That decided her - with supple ease, she slipped the car into gear and stepped on the accelerator, throwing the car out of the driveway and screaming onto the deserted, late-night street. She sped off, picking a direction at random, to busy getting away to ponder her inexplicable actions in stealing the glossy-black car.
 
 Finally, sure that there was no immediate pursuit, Selina pulled the car over to the curb - and indulged in a long bout of shakes, unable to believe that she'd just - UNWILLINGLY - committed Grand Theft Auto.
 
 "What the hell's happening to me?" she asked the universe - and received no response. Shaken, she stepped out of the car, and walked away from it quickly, disappearing into the deep, shadowed recess of an alley.
 
 A few dozen steps in, she realized the alley dead-ended at a brick wall. She stopped with a sigh, and turned to walk back - when the alley was dimly lit by the strobe of an unseen police-car's dome lights as it pulled up behind the stolen Panterra.
 
 What she did next was instinct. Shocked, as if watching somebody else, she found herself leaping straight up a full story, automatically pulling out her whip and using it to catch the fire-escape above her head. With inhuman agility, she scale silently up the rusting iron structure to the roof, crouching upon the graveled surface. Slowly, she straightened and peered down the four-story drop that she'd scaled in a matter of seconds. She couldn't help it - it had to be said.
 
 "Cool."
 
 Looking around, she spotted the exit from the roof. The door was both locked and tripped for an alarm, but she effortlessly bypassed both security measures with skills she didn't even know she possessed. In seconds, she was creeping silently down the staircase, and opening the door to the third floor...
 
 ... where her mind seemed to shut down at the sight of the all the jewelry spread out before her in an incredible display of wealth. By circumstance, she'd sought refuge in a Jeweler's shop.
 
 Again, her actions seemed to be that of someone else. Steve, a basically honest person with a few fantasies that he'd never try to live out, would never have contemplated robbing the store. Selina, however, did it automatically, as if...programmed.
 
 A helpless observer, trapped in her own transformed body, she could only watch as her long, graceful hands easily plundered the store of it's finest goods. Diamonds, emeralds and rubies created a glittering sparkle as they were poured into a pouch on her belt.
 
 The display of gorgeous, glittering wealth was hypnotic. So hypnotic, in fact, she didn't notice the two cops until the came through the door, revolver's drawn.
 
 "Freeze. Don't..." The first started, then his jaw dropped as his mind registered the unbelievably sexy woman standing in the middle of the room. His partner was as equally stunned by the huge-breasted, slim woman dressed in skintight clothing.
 
 In that frozen instant, Selina's hand rose to where her whip hung, and with two lightning-fast moves, neatly removed the men's weapons from their grips.
 
 That was the last controlled act that Selina performed.
 
 The disk used to create her had, after all, been a porno game. And at the sight of two handsome, muscular men, cops or not, her own reasoning, intelligent brain shut down as her 'sexual subroutines' took complete and utter control.
 
 "Fuck Me" She begged with a smile, her inhumanly supple hands effortlessly stripping away her clothes. The open bag scatter a glittering shower of gems across the floor.
 
 The two cops shared a brief, incredulous glance - then hastily tore their clothing away, looking almost comical as they stripped frantically. Selina found nothing comical about it, as her trapped mind surveyed their naked bodies. The first cop had an almost godlike physique with a massive, twelve inch cock to match. Eagerly, he moved forward and pulled Selina to him, her huge, taut tits pressed against his chest as she 'eagerly' returned his hungry kiss. She could feel his rock-hard cock pressing against her thigh.
 
 The second cop, almost drooling, pushed his partner out of the way, and lowered Selina to the floor. She had no choice but to take up the 69 position and ignored the few gems pressing into her back as the dark-haired cock began to lap at her pussy. Shuddering in mixed pleasure and disgust, she helplessly began to lick the cop's entire shaft and move her tongue around the dribbling end of his cock before the whole length disappeared between her full, soft lips. Selina helplessly began to give her first blow job as he lapped at her clitoris with his tongue, sending her into spasms of never-before felt ecstasy.
 
 Helplessly, she found herself 'eager' to taste his hot cum -- and so was momentarily 'disappointed' as he removed his cock from her sucking mouth and moved into a position to fuck her. She grabbed his enormous dick, her hands small in comparison, and helplessly guided it to her cunt. Then, in one swift movement, he drove it powerfully up her to the hilt. He began to thrust in and out of her most violently. Selina was practically screaming with pleasure and wrapped her glorious legs around his back.
 
 The second cop wasn't waiting. While his partner continued to fuck Selina, the second cop moved beside Selina's glistening body, losing no time on fondling Selina's huge tits. He sucked on her gorgeous, massive tits, sucking her huge, firm nipples.
 
 "Hey, John, lean back a bit." He told the cop fucking her, and he complied. The second cop moved closer. Rubbing her nipples with the tip of his penis, he told her to hold her breasts together so he could tit fuck her. Helplessly, she complied, her hands dwarfed by her huge tits as she compressed her awesome cleavage into a tunnel that the cop took good advantage of.
 
 The two men came simultaneously. She would have screamed in shear ecstasy from her first female orgasm - but she was too busy helplessly, 'hungrily', gulping down cum. The two cops, spent, slid from her cum-coated body.
 
 "What are we going to do with you?" the first cop asked, rhetorically.
 
 And driven by her programming, Selina replied. "Anything you want, masters. I obey."
 
 The two cops shared a look, and tossed her the catsuit.
 
 "Get dressed."
 
 * * * * * *
 
 For personal reasons, four police officers recently retired from the force, well shy of their twenty years. For some reason, all four decided to retire to Bolivia and room together, sharing an expensive condo with a drop-dead gorgeous woman with tit's like melons.
 
 Oddly enough, at the same time, a string of cat burglaries began to occur in surrounding areas...

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