Petra Jane Story Site

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The following story contains characters owned by DC Comics/Warner Bros. and Fox. 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 authors.
 
 
 It should have been a dark and stormy night, but instead a full moon cast long shadows along the streets of Gotham City. One of these shadows moved cautiously toward the harbor. A shadow of a cat. Catwoman was on the prowl. Quickly, she made her way to the wharves, where she learned a ship was docked, ripe for plundering. Once there, all she saw was a rusted excuse of a ship, clearly about ready to leave.
 
 "It ain't the Queen Mary," she mused, but decided to continue anyway.
 
 Catwoman slipped on board and opened a hatch cover, then dropped down into the hold, where she nearly lost her lunch. The stench was overwhelming. Hundreds of animal cages lined the hold, their occupants dead or dying.
 
 "Oh, God, I think I'm going to be sick."

The creatures were a virtual who's who of endangered species, from Siberian tigers to spotted owls. Anger helped her overcome her nausea as she examined some papers in a desk. The ship with its illegal cargo had developed engine trouble, and limped into Gotham Harbor. It had taken weeks, during which time the animals slowly starved to death.
 With the engines patched up, the captain was about to beat a hasty retreat before the port authorities got wise.
 
 Forgetting about any booty, Catwoman decided to strike a blow for animal rights. She cursed the men who lived by this trade, and the women whose vanity made it profitable. Catwoman would become the Feline Avenger. She rummaged through some lockers, and found some explosives. Carefully she placed two makeshift charges below the waterline.
 
 "Who's down there?"
 
 She turned around just in time to see three burly crewmen coming down a ladder. A few acrobatic leaps brought her topside, with the crewmen in hot pursuit.
 
 "Just us rats, and we're about to desert the ship!" she answered.
 
 Suddenly, Catwoman was surrounded by about twenty men, leering and cursing when they realized who they were dealing with.
 
 "Well, if it isn't the cat lady! How would you like to join your pussy friends in the hold?"
 
 Just then a muffled explosion, quickly followed by another, rocked the ship. Almost at once, the ship listed abruptly to one side, spilling nearly everyone overboard. Catwoman was able to hang on by using her whip. The remaining crewmen, now joined by the captain, were still after her. The ship lurched again, now capsizing completely. This time, even Catwoman couldn't hang on. Now everyone was in the water, swimming desperately to get away from the sinking ship.
 
 The commotion had finally gotten the attention of the authorities, and sirens could be heard in the distance. While everyone else made for the docks, Catwoman swam further down the shoreline. Dawn was just breaking, and she could just make out a caped figure swooping down on the scene.
 
 "I guess they can round up the captain and crew. Time for me to go."
 
 Catwoman swam a little further and came out of the water. She sat down, shivering in her wet catsuit, contemplating what she had done. She had no regrets. She had put the animals out of their misery, and the perpetrators in the hands of the police. Batman couldn't have done it  better, although she admitted he probably would have been more careful about not injuring the crew.
 
 Catwoman sighed, stood up, and said, "Computer! End program."
 
 Suddenly the entire landscape disappeared, leaving Catwoman in a grid-filled room with a large hatch at one end. Deanna Troi left the holodeck, still dripping, lost in thought, unaware of the admiring glances from the male crewmen as she returned to her quarters.
 
 In halting the Holodeck program, Deanna was assuming that all would be returned to normal. Having played the role of Catwoman with such intensity in the Holodeck scenario, she took no notice of the now familiar costume she was still wearing. It seemed perfectly normal to her that she was in a skin tight purple lycra spandex catsuit, not the loose fitting Starfleet uniform she'd worn before entering the Holodeck. The stares and open mouthed ogling that her fellow crewmembers gave her went right over Deanna's head, because she was still thinking of how Catwoman could have better handled the scene on the ship.
 
 When Deanna entered her quarters, she reached to pick up her com unit. The clawed fingers that grasped it gave her a shock, and it was then that Deanna finally noticed what she was wearing. She looked down, and saw the stiletto heeled black thigh high boots she was wearing. Deanna was under the distinct impression that the computer program had allowed her to wear and walk in these six-inch heels, but had no idea how she was doing so now.
 
 While looking down, Deanna also happened to notice that the breasts on her chest looked almost twice their normal size. The computer had been instructed to form Deanna in the image of the 20th Century comic book villainess, and had followed its instructions by accessing memory of the actual printed pages. Ergo, Deanna's Catwoman in the Holodeck scenario had comic book badgirl boobs, huge orbs, perfectly formed and defying gravity in the way they stood out. Taking her clawed hands and cupping these breasts, Deanna felt just how real they were, feeling waves of pleasure roll through her body as the breasts were stimulated.
 
 Wanting to see the entirety of what she looked like, Deanna stepped over to her full length mirror. For the first time, Deanna saw who she was.
 
 The exquisitely formed female body she saw was shaped like that of a Greek Goddess. The long black hair streamed out the back of the purple cowl, clinging tightly to her face and head. The huge tits stood out over an incredibly narrow waist, the torso tapering sharply from her abundant chest. Below the waist, beautifully rounded hips, a perfectly flat tummy, and a gorgeously shaped ass appeared. Deanna noted that the catsuit clung so tightly to her skin that the lips of the labia in her crotch even stood out.
 
 The shoulder length black gloves on her arms were so tight on her fingers that they almost appeared to have been painted on. The claws at her fingertips extended and retracted as she flexed her fingers.
 The black boots on Deanna's legs came almost to her crotch, and hugged her legs like a second skin. Her calves and thighs took on a beautiful set of curves with the arch formed under her feet by the spike heels.
 
 As she reached to pull the cowl back from her head, Deanna saw a face she did not recognize. At that moment, an incredible change came over Deanna. She had seen who she was, and she was no longer Deanna. Shaking her raven mane to hang free, then running her claws through it, she said, "My name is Selina Kyle. I am Catwoman!"

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