The guests danced with shallow decadence and frippery, tangoing with others of the city's elite as they laughed and stumbled through the steps drunkenly, spinning and whirling in their extravagant costumes. Rimming the dance floor of the Grande Hotel Ballroom, a hundred of the wealthiest most prominent citizens of the city watched, pressed close to their dates while admiring the asses or breasts of others, and losing themselves in the revelry and the jovial atmosphere of celebration ... and in the bubbles of the champagne, of course.
It was the evening of the Police Charity Costume Ball - the biggest night of the year for the Wounded Officer's Fund, and so... Not a thought was spared concerning the expense and grandeur, because the organizers knew that every dollar spent would be repaid twenty-fold by the rich "humanitarians" drowning themselves here tonight in imported booze... Citizens oozing so much wealth that such public displays of charity were a commodity to them more valuable than boats or antiques or fancy jewelry, because it allowed them to purchase something that wasn't usually for sale - public affection - And in a manner that they could do it without having to rub elbows with the unwashed throng of the city, while enjoying themselves at an event of the luxury and esteem befitting their exorbitant lifestyle.
"What a purrfect target" thought the boy as he made his way between the masses of blissfully-unaware millionaires, turning many heads as he passed in his impeccably tailored white suit, which showed off his alluringly effeminate curves extravagantly. He was the Lord Etheras Dela Fay, heir to the fortunes of the Fay Cybernetics Corporation and notorious naughty-boy. But the notoriety and reputation only added to his allure and mystery. He smiled to himself, weaving between crowds fawning around senators and actors, and made his way into the men's restroom, hoping to shed any fawning followers he may have picked up of his own. He nodded to the attendant, who returned the gesture, before taking one of the private walled stalls. Upon locking the door he hopped up on the back of the toilet seat and lifted one of the roof tiles, sliding it aside to retrieve the duffel that he had stashed there earlier in the week. Inside was a vinyl catsuit, darker than midnight, with a beautiful glossy finish. He removed his white formalwear and wiggled into the catsuit, its shape hugging his lovely curves perfectly, so tight that it left nothing to the imagination. Then he scrambled up into the space behind the ceiling tile, and into a panel that had been pried off of a vent shaft. The sleek costume made the journey easier - no loose folds to snag on a bent lip of metal ducting or loose rivets. Large red goggles allowed him to see perfectly in the tiny unlit tunnel, until he came to the end - light broken by the bars of a vent. Peering down between the bars, he saw his objective... it was the Operations room, which was manned two guards - one of whom was the Head of Security.
"Just the equine I am looking for." thought the fennec with a grin, and stealthily removed the cover of the vent, he slid it up over him, resting it on top of the duct and prepared himself, uncoiling the long length of cruel leather whip. He clamped its handle between his teeth so he would have ready access as soon as he hit the floor, and pulled himself forward, somersaulting so he would drop to the floor with his feet under him. He hardly made a sound, but the whisper of carpet under his boots was enough to make the two glance back at him. He kicked the guard in the throat, and he went down. The Head of Security he needed conscious, however - a big beefsteak of a zebra, with faster reflexes than his underling - he was already going for his gun. But the fennec was faster, and had the whip in his paws already, lashing it across the inside of the Zebra's forearm. The sudden shocking pain made the muscles spasm, and the pistol flew from his grasp, rebounding off a file cabinet before coming to rest under a desk.
"Hello Mister Stripeyhorse" said the fennec cockily as the equine winced, rubbing at his bleeding wrist.
Etheras continued, "Tell me the code to the safe and I won't hurt you... much." With so many rich and powerful patrons in one place, and knowing the paranoia and extravagance of the inordinately wealthy, Etheras knew that the hotel safe would be brimming with riches... and probably more than just jewels. Some of the guests would have other business in Gotham. What other juicy treasures might they have brought along? Sensitive information? Designs for new technology?
"I won't" said the zebra.
"Oh I was hoping you would say that..." grinned the fennec. He flicked the whip expertly to loop around his forearm and pulled in one swift gesture, forcing the zebra to turn, and then lashed him across the back savagely with a second stroke of the whip coming virtually on-top of the first, splitting open his Hotel Security coat and rising an angry purple welt under the fur. The zebra yelped and dropped to a knee, his hands reaching back to try and rub the wound.
Etheras grabbed those hands and forced them together, binding them with a zip-tie.
"Hehe - works every time" said the boi triumphantly, circling in front of the defeated stallion, resting a small paw on his head as the zebra glared up at him defiantly.
"My-my... what is this?" the fennec asked, noticing now that the zebra's trousers were bulging significantly in the groin area. He reached down with his small paw and gave it a squeeze. Yes - yes that was most-certainly zebra flesh... nice and big and squishy. "It looks like someone likes this a little bit, doesn't he?" Etheras said, hugging the zebra loosely with his sleek slender arms, taunting.
"No." said the zebra, blushing. It was clear that this wasn't true.
A tribute to Catwoman because this week the Dark Knight Rises, and I saw it in IMAX and it was GREAT! :P Obviously this story is not part of the official Etheras canon. But I hope you enjoyed it anyway
