"If you're not careful, you'll be burning rubber down there," murmured Catwoman, with a derisory nod at his groin. "If you don't shut up, I'll be restringing my tennis racquet with your small intestine," said Batman through gritted teeth.

"I'm intrigued to know what plans you have for my large intestine, darling!" she said with a wink. "Knitting yourself a condom?"

"You, of all people should know that I have no need for those," he replied. "They don't call me the Caped Crusader for nothing." Shifting his hard body so that it was pinning her down to the roof, he freed one hand in order to grab his Batman handcuffs. Immediately, Catwoman saw her chance.

Twisting her back, she managed to free a paw from her opponent's grasp and, with a swish of air, raked a claw down his cheek.

With a roar, Batman squeezed her prostrate figure between his manly thighs. "You promised you wouldn't touch my face, you bitch! I've got to give one of those after-dinner speeches to the Hoboken Round Table tonight, and I'll never hear the end of it."

"Meow!" said Catwoman. "I love it when you get angry with me. Come on then, get the cuffs on and get on with it, as we don't have much time. What time does dinner start?"

As Batman fiddled with the lock of the cuffs, his sexy partner did a double-take. "What the hell are those? Where are your bat-cuffs?" she shrieked. Batman looked embarrassed. "I lost them. Someone must have swiped them off my belt when we went to see Iron Man last weekend."

"You're such a fake," she spat. "Get off me, I can't bear you to touch me. Replica cuffs my ass."

Batman's lower lip quivered. "Aw, CW, don't be like that, please. Please! They're from JLA Trophy Room, and they look just like the real thing. I mean, they're not bad—they've got a bat-shaped key, and they look good on my belt, and they only cost me $136. And I'm the only person with them, as they're not out until next year. Can't you just play along with the fantasy a little bit?"

"Too late, Batty-boy," came the reply. "I don't do rip-offs." With a resigned shrug, Batman released her and watched her go, her tail swishing angrily behind her. [Entertainment Earth via Geek Alerts]

Need a subtle reminder of the kinky bondage session from last night? This miniature handcuff cellphone strap from Strap-Ya comes with two sets of keys that will actually lock your wrists&mdas;I mean, your fingers—together so they can't get away. Or, if you're not into that stuff, you could still just use it to hang your cellphone from your jeans.

–Lisa Katayama

Handcuff me to my cellphone (strap) [TokyoMango]

Good thing that handcuff has a panic button to instantly release it in case the key is lost. Having a Wiimote handcuffed to your wrist might be kinda hard to explain at the office the next morning. – Charlie White

Handcuff Your Wii [LooneyGamers]