Replica Bat Cuffs Turn Batman into BDSMan

This image was lost some time after publication, but you can still view it here.
This image was lost some time after publication, but you can still view it here.

"Assume the position," barked Batman, as he wrestled his captive into a supine position. "Ooh, I just love it when you talk dirty to me," purred Catwoman, an enigmatic half-smile playing about her whiskers, as she was bat-handled into submission. Her direct, feline gaze never left the superhero's face, and he shifted uncomfortably as he realized that, somewhere below his bat-belt, the batsuit was becoming too tight for comfort.


"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]


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Addy is Giz's best writer. She's evidenced this for a long time now. Hopefully, as a bit of a wordsmith myself, I'll get involved in some cunning linguistics with her one day.