Okay, so this turned out to be *way* longer than I thought it would, but I hope you enjoy. And I hope this doesn't get cut off, heh.

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>>5133 (Black Cat caught trying to steal a jewel from a vault)

I take my time walking down the corridor with an iPad in my hand and three armed security officers following a few steps behind me. Judging by the live video feed on my tablet's screen, the intruder was successfully immobilized by the automated proactive security system installed in the vault, but knowing who this woman was, it didn't hurt to be careful and opt for personal protection.

And I'd hate to stain this suit.

I press a few numbers on the keypad in quick succession, and the door in front of me slides open, letting me and the armed men behind me step into the vault. A dozen steps forward, turn left into an adjacent room, and there she is. Felicia Hardy. Tight black catsuit with that trademark white fur, a web-like carbon net pinning her body to the floor, secured by strong electromagnets, and a few taser prongs embedded in her, fired from the small holes in the walls. There's still current running through them, judging by how the woman has little to no reaction to our appearance and instead just twitches on the floor with whimpers.

I fiddle with the controls on my iPad, and the electricity turns off, letting Felicia slump lifelessly to the floor. A couple seconds later, though, she jolts awake again, focused and aware this time, but the net over her still keeps her confined to the same spot on the floor.

I chuckle, turn back to the security officers behind me and gesture them to point their rifles at the woman. Slowly, I walk towards her and crouch down in front of her.

"Do you know how they used to punish thieves back in the day?" I ask, staring into the eyes behind that recognizable mask of hers. Nothing but contempt and a grin in return. As expected, of course. I reach to the iPad again and turn on the electricity in the prongs again, for just a fraction of a second - enough to give her a powerful jolt and make her entire body twitch.

"This will be over fast if you behave," I wink at her before getting back up on my feet and gesture for two of the officers to come closer. With them standing by, I turn off the magnets and lift off the net constraining Felicia.

Of course, predictably, she yanks a couple prongs out of her and darts off to the side, to tear the remaining few out of herself.

Of course, my finger was already hovering over the control.

With a yelp, Felicia falls down to the floor, twitching, as the electricity runs through her body again. I turn it off only after the security guys wearing insulating gloves grab her by the arms and pull her up, then reach down to the floor to grab the prongs that she tore out of herself and walk over to her.

"We break your left arm and chop off your right one," I say. "Then you get to walk away and we can forget this little incident ever happened. I won't offer this again."

Nothing but contempt in those eyes, again. Electricity gets turned on once again, and her eyes roll to the back of her head as she slumps down to her knees, held by the two officers. When she comes back to her senses, my right leg swings back for a kick, and the tip of my shoe slams into her lower stomach, right above her mound. With a pathetic whimper, Felicia almost doubles over on the floor, crossing her legs, as the pain shoots through her crotch.

Oh, that felt good.

"You know, that was a good offer, all things considered. You should've taken it," I sigh and point at a nearby empty table. "Get her there."

A minute later, after some pretty intense resisting and a few more shocks to calm her down, the thief is secured to the tabletop, chained by her wrists and ankles with little wiggle room. I walk over to the table and lean over her, staring at her upside down, but then my gaze travels down her neck to her cleavage. I reach down to the zipper, and with a satisfying sound the dark fabric splits apart, revealing more and more of the pale skin underneath. Once the zipper can't go any lower, a knife comes in handy, and soon only underwear is all that's left. With a few more knife slashes, even that is gone, too.

It's almost like her confidence was kept in her clothes. Electricity couldn't break her, but a simple undressing did.

"Okay," she finally speaks and licks her lips. "I want to negotiate."

"Well, *I* don't." I'm not looking at her face. Instead, I reach and move my hand up and down her naked body, wiggling on the table. To think of it, she could *easily* be a supermodel if she wanted to. Chances are, she wouldn't have ended up like this, then.

"I have some stuff stashed… stuff that I think a collector like you would be very interested in," she continues.

"Well, of course," I shrug and take a moment to bring up an image on the tablet, then turn it so that she can see it. "I collect this, for example."

The image shows a few human arms, cut off just below the shoulder, preserved in ice. The woman wasn't particularly tanned to begin with, but all color disappears from her face when she sees it.

"No… no no no," she stammers and licks her lips again. "Look, name an item, anyone's private collection, *ANYONE'S*. I'll deliver. 48 hours if it's in the country. 96, worldwide. You know who I am, you know I *deliver*."

"*This* is already delivered to me, don't you think?" I smile and tap the knife's blade against her right arm. For a couple seconds, she hyperventilates, but then closes her eyes, trying to hold back tears to no avail. The salty liquid runs down the fabric of her mask and off her cheeks onto the tabletop.

I pat her on the cheek and take a step back, nodding to the third security officer who hadn't been involved until now. He steps forward, pulling out a bone saw from behind his back, and the thief on the table starts thrashing around helplessly, staring at him in terror. I move over a bit to hold her head with my both hands and keep her staring up at me upside down. Her lips tremble when the metal touches her arm, and when the saw starts moving back and forward, cutting through her flesh, Felicia's entire body springs up and she cries out in my face, saliva flying out and tears streaming down her cheeks. One of the other men joins us at the table to help hold her arm in place as the saw continues to cut through it. Half a minute of getting through her flesh, about a minute more of messing with the bone, with Felicia's screams reaching a new level in volume, and then, with a rather gross sound, the remaining strands of flesh are torn as her arm is yanked away from her.

The thief is shaking, her face pale as death, lips a thin line, goosebumps all over her naked skin, fingers of her *other* hand clawing at the restraints with fingernail marks in the leather. Blood spurts out rhythmically out of her fresh stump, but it's not really cause for concern. It would have been, had she taken the offer. But as it stands, she won't live long enough to die of blood loss.

"See, you've delivered," I smile in her face, still holding it between my hands and staring at her upside down.

"L-l-l-l-let me g-g-g-go…" she wheezes out, sobbing and whimpering, eyes wide open.

"Oh, I would have. You should have agreed to that right away," I sigh and walk over to the side of the table, staring at her naked body in full view in front of me again. I'd love to have her heart. Cut it out of her, put it in a vat. She's too beautiful to have her *head*; it would shrink and deform and wouldn't do her justice, but a heart? It would be poetic, in a way.

But first…

"Are you still with that Peter Parker guy?" I ask nonchalantly, as if I'm having a pleasant discussion over coffee.

"Wh… what?" she stammers, sobbing.

"It's a simple question."

"Oh, god…" Felicia inhales sharply, shivering. The blade of the knife in my hand is pressed between her breasts, and tears almost squirt from under her eyelids as she shuts her eyes.

"Yes."

"Good. I'll send him a present."

I gesture to two of the guards to hold the woman's legs in place, and my knife plunges into her lower stomach, deep, cutting through her flesh and around her womb. Two grown men can barely hold Felicia in place as she bucks and thrashes around on the table, bawling and losing her voice. The knife in my hand moves in inaccurate, jerky motions, and a minute later, I forcibly pull out her uterus and vagina out of the profusely bleeding cut, dropping it onto her stomach with a wet sound.

It's amazing, but Felicia is still there… or so it seems, at least. Lower lip bleeding hard with teeth-shaped indents in it, a thousand yard stare, shallow and fast breathing, muscles so tense that it looks like they could snap if you so much as touch them.

"You know what, you can have it. I think you kind of deserve it." I doubt that she can see it or process it, but as I'm saying this, I'm pointing at the jewel that she had almost gotten to. "I'll clean that up," I point at the gory mess lying on her stomach, "I'll put *that* inside," my finger points at the jewel again, "and I'll send it to Peter nicely wrapped. Something to remember you by."

I gesture to the guards to free her ankles, grab her by the shoulders and yank her up along the tabletop, so that her head hangs off the edge. "As for me, your heart will do. But I want to *see* you go first."

The knife runs across her neck, and blood sprays over my shirt as the thief gurgles, her wide open eyes still staring at me. I only look away for a couple seconds, to get an idea of how I'm going to cut into her chest, but then my eyes shoot back to lock with hers while she is still there. Once the initial spurt of blood in her neck dies down, I crouch down to level with her and keep looking into her eyes until they lose life.

"Well," I finally say quietly and get back up to my feet again. I sigh and circle the table to get better access to her ribcage. "How does one get to the heart, lads?"


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<- pic on the left: Myranda (Game Of Thrones), the sadistic lover of Ramsay Bolton, is actually pretty damn good with a bow, but sucks at any kind of close quarters combat. How does one make good use of that?