Selina in Chains.

BY : ConvictedBeauties
Category: DC Verse Comics > Catwoman
Dragon prints: 1410
Disclaimer: I do not own Catwoman and I make no profit from this story.

The rough plastic seats of the bus rubbed against my butt over every bump on the way to Blackgate. The chains tightly fastened around my waist jangled, along with the handcuffs and shackles that dug uncomfortably into my wrists and ankles. The uniform didn’t help. It was thick, heavy and unflattening. I always hated the colour orange, and handcuffs were only fun when I wasn’t the one wearing them. I already missed the touch of leather against my skin. 

The judge didn’t waste any time when she handed down my sentence. The court was only able to prove ten counts of Grand Larceny, but with a penalty of ten years each, that wasn’t much of a consultation. The cold bitch even threw in a few counts of battery for good measure, just to make sure I’d never be released. 

She banged that gavel like it was going out of style. I had a few ideas about where she could put it. I’m not proud to admit it, but I cried my eyes out when she passed down the sentence. Luckily, there weren’t any cameras - Which is less than I can say for my tear laden mugshot. 

So there I was, on my way to the women’s wing of Blackgate Penitentiary. I’ve been here before, of course, for many things in my misspent youth.  Prison was always an occupational hazard of mine, even before I became a thief. 

That’s just what happens when you dominate senators, cuckold councilmen, punish playboys and peg pastors; Sooner or later, one of those ‘Johns’ is a cop. And usually pulls his badge after the deed is done. Cops are pigs the world around. They’re all the same. That said, I didn’t think I’d end up punching license plates again so soon. At least, I hoped. 

As I sat there, in my disgrace, my mind raced with the only question that mattered; 

How could he do this to me? My mystery man. My caped crusader. I loved him.

How could he put me here? Didn’t he remember our little moment on the roof of the museum that night? I thought we had something special. 

That voice in my head went off again. ‘You should have listened, Kitten. What did I say?’
I know. Men are all the same. ‘Don't say I didn't warn you.’ Kitty did warn me, but like normal, I tried to push her out. I didn’t listen to the feline part of my brain. It won’t be a mistake I’ll make again. Neither will trusting men. No matter how sexy they look in a cowl. 

Not that I’ll meet many men, where I’m going. One hundred years of pussy, but not the kind of pussies that I like, though both of them were bushy. But that was the least of my worries. 

My old enemy, Sofia Falcone, was serving her similarly ridiculously long sentence at the very establishment I was headed to. 

That was all I needed. To be locked in a cage with one very pissed off gangster who wants me dead. I guess she was still bitter about me kicking her out that window. Sicilians never forget, least not ones raised by a psychopath. I knew I was going to have to be on my paws around her. 

I thought it would be good, at least, to see Tabitha. She’s been locked up for too long. I should have visited her. Guess I’m making up for lost time. I wasn’t keen to see the inside of this place again, even as a visitor. Now it looks like I’m here to stay. 

‘Kitty and Tigress together again at last. It’ll just be like the good old days.’ 

Yes. The good old days. When we were young, and stupid. ‘But we did get up to some good mischief back then, growing up, didn’t we Selina?’. Yes, Kitty, we did. 

Tabby’s got enough sway with the inmates, I won’t have to deal with the crazy guido bitch. 

Well, most of the time, anyway. I know that there won’t be any way to truly escape her now; But I beat her up once before, I could do it again. 

I was distracting myself. From my heartbreak, and my despair. I didn’t want to grow old in prison. I was terrified of that. I struggled in my bounds in vain, desperately trying to get free. I didn’t care if I’d have to live in a slum in Mexico forever; I really really didn’t want to go to prison for the rest of my life. But I was also distracted from thinking about my man and how he betrayed me. ‘Forget about him, Selina.’ The voice told me. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. 

I didn’t want to cry in front of the girls. It would make me look weak, though I imagine, they already respected me, now that everybody knew who I was. Despite my best efforts, tears pushed their way through my eyelids, and slowly streamed down my face, as I quietly whimpered. 

I was immediately humiliated when I heard one of the girls up the back talking about me. 
 

“That’s Catwoman.” She said, “Is she crying?” 

I knew she wasn’t judging me. The girl wasn’t far from tears herself. But I had to assert myself regardless. It took everything to hold back the tears, for just a moment, but I did. ‘Get together, Kitten. Tell her how it is.’ I turned around, as much as bonds would allow anyway. 

“Cats don’t cry.” I said, ironically holding back water works. “We only whimper.” 

I arched my back up to look mean. 

“Then we dig our claws in.”

I turned back when I was sure they got the message. I held my head in my hands. I cried. 

They noticed. But nobody said anything after that. They didn’t dare. None of these girls wanted to lose an eye. They weren’t as bad as me. Probably just some more poor bitches who got pinched for an ounce of weed. 

And bitches of course, were what they would be, from the looks of them. They didn’t belong in prison, but then again, neither did I; Though I was more adaptable to that environment than surely any of them were. 

Cats can smell fear like any other predator. And these girls reeked of it. More than I did. I wasn’t proud of it, but I took a little solace in that fact. At least I knew what was coming; These college brats had no idea. I didn’t regret a single thing I did. Not stealing. Not whoring. Certainly, not beating rapists within an inch of their lives. That was all great fun. 

I just regretted getting caught. But that was a lie, because I also regret ever meeting Batman. I regret letting him break my heart and lock me up. I regret letting him fuck me, even though we had our masks on. But mostly, I regretted ever loving him, because he clearly never did. After all, if he loved me, why did he send me here? Why didn’t he understand? 

‘Because he’s a bastard, Kitty. Told you a million times.’ Yes, Kitty. You’re always right. 

While it wasn’t long before we arrived at Blackgate, it felt like an eternity. My butt was red and irritated from a combination of the canvas uniform and the hard seat. The worst thing was, with my hands bound in front of me, I couldn’t even rub it. I struggled harder when I saw the gates of the prison. And I don’t know what came over me. My efforts got more desperate and frantic. My mouth opened without me thinking. 

“No! No!” I yelped before my senses came back to me. 

I hoped the other girls didn’t see, but I knew deep down that they did; The big bad Catwoman was afraid of going to prison. I couldn’t deny it; I was terrified. Not of prison itself, but of growing old there; of never being free. Never again feeling leather on my skin. Never again prowling the night. Never again punishing naughty boys. I guess, now it was my turn to be punished. 

I guess it was only fair; I had been a naughty girl. But, that didn’t mean I had to like it. 

Cats weren’t supposed to be kept in cages. We’re nomadic. We stay with whoever will give us what we need. When they stop, or we get bored, we move along and find another fool to take us in. I won’t do well in a cell. I never did like enclosed spaces. 

I hobbled down off the bus with the rest of the girls. The guards dragged us along at a pace we couldn’t keep. Our bonds only allowed us to waddle, and certainly not nearly as fast as they apparently expected. I kept losing my balance, and I had exceptionally good balance. Being a cat, luckily, I always landed on my feet. 

I hated how far we had to walk in the chains, and how our arms were pulled in front of us. Eventually, we were dragged to reception. And that meant intake. It wouldn’t be comfortable. The guards were all studs. That was, sadly, not the kind with a cock. The butchy, lesbian kind. They undressed us all with their eyes, but me most of all. I knew they wanted a piece of the famous Catwoman. I’d have to swallow my pride and let them take it. 

God. I hate Batman so much. ‘That’s right Kitty. Now you’re making sense!’ 

They undid our chains, and not a moment too soon if you ask me. The imprint of the cuffs was left in my wrists. I rubbed them in the short time I knew I had. I knew all too well what was coming next. The guards ordered us to strip. We did. 

I kicked off my canvas shoes and unbuttoned my orange overalls. I slipped the overalls down and stepped out of them. Then I slid off my prison issued white panties and pulled the tank top over my head. The butchy guard who inspected us looked over to me and her mouth watered. 

 “Out there you might be the big bad Catwoman. But in here, you’re just another pussy.” 

I rolled my eyes at her crude comment and turned my head away, partly out of shame, but also partly because I knew she was right. 

“Turn around and assume the position, Pussy.” 

I didn’t want a woman touching my body, but I knew now I had no choice. I sighed and did what she said. Putting my hands against the wall, I spread my legs shoulder length apart and poked out my butt - The part of my anatomy that I knew she was the most interested in. She dug a bare finger into my asshole. It hurt. She didn’t use a glove, or vaseline. 

I couldn’t help but feel strangely aroused at the same time. I knew I was a pervert, but it wasn’t possible that I enjoyed this on any level. ‘You’re a kinky girl, Selina. You always get off when they put it up there.’ Shut up, Kitty. I can’t deal with you, right now. Even if you are right. 

My cheeks went plush with red. The ones on my face, that was. My butt was already raw from the unpleasant bus ride. I moaned and groaned as the guard poked and prodded her finger uncomfortably inside my anus. I felt her going in and out, and feeling every inch she could reach. 

I yelped loudly when she changed holes, not just because it surprised me, but also because she rubbed my clit. It’s hard to explain but as much as I hated it, I also kind of enjoyed it. This time, she put two fingers inside me. The digits admittedly felt good inside my pussy, and she knew how to touch my g-spot in all the right places. She didn’t let me climax, of course. The screw took her fingers out and kneaded my breasts. She was rough, pulling them and pinching my nipples.

I knew better than to complain. Learned my listen after my first visit here. As a dominatrix, I knew that subbies who talked out of line, got the cane. And now I was a sub, whether I liked it or not. I think that was the worst thing about it; That I wasn’t in control. That I wasn’t empowered. Now I’d be the one getting the spankings. I would be the one grovelling. That wasn’t a pleasant thought. 

I hated subbing, almost as much as I hated same-sex jobs. And now, I had to do both. And worse. Without getting paid. ‘Come on Kitty. Broaden your horizons. Explore yourself.’ 

No! I’m not gay! I won’t give in! 

At least, not yet. 

No! Not ever. 

I thought about dicks. Big ones. And men grovelling at my feet. But images of women making me their pet still managed to seep through the cracks. They got me excited. But I denied it. I pushed it deep inside. Repressing it within the depths of my subconscious. 

When the guard finally stopped touching me, my thoughts were once again my own. I felt in control, if only for a moment. 

But before I knew it, I felt her hand collide against my already sore backside, and I screamed. 

“Aghh!” 


Before I could process what was happening, the hand came down again. She was spanking me. Her plam came down again. And again. And again. It was constant. Unrelenting. The sound of flesh slamming against flesh filled the air. Each time I screamed. And each time, my womanhood grew wetter, to my shame. But I didn’t even like being spanked by men, how could I possibly like being spanked by a woman? 

I heard her voice address the other inmates. 

“We don’t normally do this, but Catwoman is an especially naughty girl.” 

Great. The spanking was purely in my honor. The screws here had already made me their target; I wouldn’t be doing ‘easy time’. It continued for a while. I don’t know how long. It could have been five minutes. It could have been fifty. All I knew was that when it was done, there was no way I was sitting down at all that night. I was humiliated. 

Having my ass spanked raw infront of so many strange women. I’d been brought down. That meant I had to claw my way back up. The guards swapped out our jail threads for some prison ones. They were exactly the same, except these ones were stamped with “Blackgate Women’s Penitentiary” on the back. 

It must have been incredibly important to them that everyone knew who owned us. The tight boyshorts hurt my sore butt when I snapped them on. The heavy overalls didn’t help. I guess I'll be sleeping on my belly. They cuffed and chained us again, but this time, I swear my bonds were tighter. I was separated from the others. Obviously, I’d be in the Super-Maximum Security unit. 

The guard that violated me painfully held my left arm as she lead me down the cellblock. Most of the girls here were other victims of the bat. Henchwomen, assassins and the like. Of course, only the ones not crazy enough to end up at Arkham. ‘Arkham? Oh! I bet it’s fun there, Kitten. Imagine the lovely meds they give you?’   

There were a couple of hippy looking girls with dreads and flowers in their hair. They looked to be the kind to follow Ivy in one way or another. 

The other girls, I knew by name. Some were friends. Others… Not so much. 

The first girl was Jade Nguyen. Most people knew her as Cheshire. She had long black hair, and her exotic appearance resembled both her French father, and her Vietnamese mother. I think I remember reading something in The Daily Planet about the bird brat finally catching her. 

She put her hands through the bars and rested lazily on them. She peaked her head up as she saw me. 

“The dastardly duo pick you up too, huh?” She said through her thick French accent, the sarcasm in her voice less than subtle. 

I responded in kind.

“Oh no, I turned myself in. I just couldn’t live with the guilt.”

Jade smiled. I amused her. We hadn’t exactly been friends outside, but we weren’t enemies either.  But she was a much badder girl than I ever was. Speaking of bad girls, the next was Veronica Sinclair, or Roulette. Someone I knew only by reputation. She was a brunette with hair that fell over her face. Veronica was covered in tattoos. Her left cheek inked with asian lettering I couldn’t read, despite the fact that she was white as hell. But I didn’t know her story, I couldn’t judge her yet. For all I knew, she grew up in Asia. 

The next inmate was Roxanne Sutton, a woman I knew as Roxy Rocket. We pulled some jobs together for Cobblepot. She used to be his squeeze, though I can’t possibly imagine why. 

She was a tall busty, slender framed girl with flowing red hair and black lipstick, that I can only assume she had the Penguin smuggle in for her. I remember when she got pinched, and to be honest, I was glad to see her. We traded glances and smiled. She waved as I passed her cell.

“Good to see ya Selina.” She called out to me. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll have plenty of time to catch up” I joked back, trying to keep my spirits up. 

But the next girls I passed definitely weren’t friends. Especially since I'm the one who put them here. Christina Chiles. That was, the “Cyber-Cat”. ‘Silly bitch. Can’t replace the real thing with silicon. I’m all Catwoman.’ The olive skinned brunette leaned out menacingly from the bars. A twisted smile spread across her lips.  

“How about Round Four, Kitty-Cat?” 

I rolled my eyes and scoffed.

“You couldn’t even beat me when you had a suit of power armour. I’ll claw out your fucking eyes, bitch.” 

I wasn’t afraid of her. She was all talk, as usual. But her cellmate, she did make me nervous. It was Sofia Falcone. She sat on her bunk at the back of the cell, mewling in the dark. Her curly brown hair covered her face. Sofia hid something under her mattresses as we passed her cell and I’m sure that it was a shiv. 

“She might have a little help, pussy-cat. Ain’t any fuckin’ windows to kick me out of this time.” 

I smiled. I hid my fear inside me. I hated the Falcones and their pandering too much to give the bitch the satisfaction. 

“Watch out, Sofia.” I quipped. “You might end up in a wheelchair for real this time.” 

Sofia sprung off her bed and lunged for the bars. She reached out, but I was easily out of her reach. 

“YOU FUCKIN’ BITCH! I’M GONNA WHACK YA!” 

She slammed her fist against the bars in rage. 

“DON’T THINK I FORGOT THAT YOU HELPED HARVEY DENT.” 

A chill ran down my spine. My stomach churned. Sofia wasn’t kidding around. I don’t think they ever released the real body count she left in her vendetta against all those who helped Harvey Dent rise to power. I liked Harvey. I thought he was cute - Well, before the “accident” anyway. How was I supposed to know he was a closeted psycho?  

I didn’t know what to say back. My body seized up and it got even harder to walk. But, relief washed over me when I heard a familiar voice cry back in response. 

“You touch her and you're dead. You hear me, you guido bitch?” 

It was Tabitha. The Tigress had my back, like always. I have never been so happy to see her ebony face. I hoped she’d be my cellmate, but I knew I wouldn’t be so lucky. She tipped her head to me and smiled casually, like nothing was amiss. 

“Hey sis, long time no see.” She said in a friendly tone. 

“Sorry I didn’t visit you, Tabby. But the good news is, I’m moving in!” 

Tabitha laughed so hard I think her sides started to ache. Finally, they stopped me in front of a cell, and I guess it was mine. ‘Looks like we have a cellmate, Selina’. It was someone I recognized. Sandra Wu-San. Lady Shiva. Triad Enforcer. Assassin. Mercenary. 

All around, a very, very bad girl. But, I never had any beef with her, that I remember anyway. 

Sandra had a folded red bandana wrapped around her forehead. She was middle aged, but I thought she was still quite beautiful. Her black hair was long and wavy. She stood up, and put her hands against the wall without being ordered to. Sandra knew the drill. 

The guard unlocked my shackles, but left the cuffs on. She pushed me in the cell, then slammed the door behind me. I’d danced this tango before. I turned around and put my hands through the bars. The guard unlocked them, and I was finally able to rub my sore wrists and ass. 

I wanted to sit, but I knew I’d regret that decision. I sort of leaned into the wall with my back, putting all my weight against it. I was careful to make sure it didn’t touch my butt. I gently rubbed my red cheeks, but it didn’t help. I needed cream, and I knew that I wouldn’t be getting any. 

When the guard was gone, Sandra took her hands off the wall and sat down. She pulled a cigarette from the packet she hid inside her pillowcase and lit it up. 

She took a long draw on the dart and blew it all through the cell. I coughed. 

“So. He picked you up too.” Sandra took in another draw on her smoke. “I guess fucking him counted up to nothing, huh?” 

My heart broke again. I wasn’t entirely over it yet. ‘She’s right, Kitten. Look what he did to us.’

I didn’t listen. 

“Fuck you.” 

Sandra smiled snidely and sucked on her smoke again. 

“Oh, he really played you, pussycat.” 

The bitch was mocking me. 

“Hurts doesn’t it? I’ve been there. Not with him, but with other bastards like him.” 

How dare she. She didn’t know what I was going through at all. 

“Tell me, was it the outfit that did it for you? It was, wasn't it?” 

I was pretty far from the mood to deal with her, so I changed the subject. 

“Look, just tell me, am I going to have to fight you for the bunk?” 

Sandra chuckled, and drew in again on her deathstick. 

“Na, I’m way above that shit.” 

She gestured her thumb upwards. 

“You can have the top. I don’t like it up there, but it could be your thing.” She said, before taking another drag. “Being that you’re a cat and all.” 

I could tell she didn’t think much of me. But I didn’t need to prove I was better than her. I was. Case in point, I didn’t murder people for a living. I was smart enough not to say that to her face. 

“That’s great. But I don’t think I’ll be sitting down for awhile anyway.” 

Sandra punched her thin mattress. She threw her smoke on the ground. 

“Bastards. They do that to you too? My ass was red raw for the first week I got here.” 

I should have figured I wasn’t the only one who got that treatment. ‘Real kinky place we ended up, Kitten.’ Shut up, Kitty. I don’t want to talk to you right now. 

Sandra pulled out her smoke and offered me one.

“Want a smoke? It’ll make it hurt less, I promise.” 

I didn’t smoke - Except after sex - But “when in rome...”

“Sure.” I said, reaching into the softpack and pulling one out. 

Sandra struck a match against the floor and got up off the bed. She walked over to me. 
“We don’t have to fight, Selina. We can be friends.” She said, lighting my cigarette with the flame. 

“I hate that Gweilo. The mafia are scum.” She said before igniting her own smoke and shaking out the match. “You don’t have to worry about Sofia Falcone while I’m around.”

I sucked on my own cigarette, surprised by this revelation. 

“Aren’t you connected to the triads back in the east?” 

She didn’t appear to take offense. I guess she thought I was just another Gweilo ignorant to her way of life. 

“The Wu-San Triad has honor. The Mafia has none.” 

This seemed important to her. I didn’t push it any further. 
“Good to know, Sandy.” I quipped through a cheeky grin. 

But Shiva snarled at me. Almost like a cat.

“Don’t push it Kitty.” 

I managed to salvage things. 

“What should I call you then, sister.” 

She sat back down and sucked on her smoke. 

“You call me Shiva, ‘cause I’m the Goddess of Death.” 

I didn’t get the feeling that she was exaggerating. But so far, she seemed like the kind of friend I needed In this hell. Especially with the pissed off daughter of a dead mob boss two cells over. 

I stood in the cell for hours, rubbing my sore butt and mewling over how my man had done this to me. I needed something cold on my ass. Something to ease the swelling. 

I pulled my overalls down and climbed up into the sink. I turned on the facet, pulled down my panties and started slashing cold water on it. Shiva watched. I didn’t like it. But, I didn’t have much of a choice. The icy water immediately relieved the pain, and I moaned softly. It was humiliating, but this was what I had been reduced to. Splashing my bare butt in a sink, in a tiny cell I share with a murderer. All because of him. 

I hate Batman so much. Every hour I suffer here, I curse his name. I hate Batman. I hate him with every fibre of my being. I hate him for breaking my heart. I hate him for hurting me. And, I hate him for sending me to this hell. Lights out comes. I lay in my bunk on my sore backside. It’s pitch black. All I can hear is breathing around me. And moaning. And crying. My ass hurts so much, and I can’t get to sleep. 

I’ll catch the bat in my claws. I’ll string him up with my whip. ‘He’ll pay for what he did to us, Kitten.’ As my hand goes inside my uniform, and works its way between my legs, I can see myself, the Bat grovelling at my feet. I force him into chastity. When I fuck him, I tie up his cock. I make sure he always has two very big, very full, and very blue balls. I peg him with the biggest strap-on I can find. And I don’t use lube. 

I whip him. I scratch him. I slap him and hit him. And I never let him come. I rub my clit. I try to pretend it's the same as a cock - But I know it’s not. The images fill my mind. They’re enough to help me climax. I purr softly, blending into the choir of convicts around me. Bliss washes over my body, and my sheets are wet with my fluids. Now, I might be able to get some sleep. I turn around, on my stomach. It helps. But my mind fills with thoughts of him again. I hate him. I can’t stand him. So why do I still love him? 

Somehow I managed to drift off into sleep, despite the mattress that felt like a child's trampoline. I knew that tomorrow, things would only get worse. I needed every wink I could get.



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