Re: Jinn’s AI Swamp
Posted: Thu Dec 14, 2023 1:23 am
Another cat tale from the swamp…
Catwoman was jerked and jostled awake in the trunk of the Lincoln Town Car as it rolled down the washboard New England side road. Bound and gagged for her transport, the captured kitty could do little in way of bracing herself as she flung about turbulently in the cramped compartment. She cussed an incoherent series of colorful adjectives through the tattered cloth tied tightly around her head as she bumped and bounced off the sides of the trunk.
Her arms and wrists were hog tied behind her uncomfortably to her knees and ankles. Shoddily knotted, the restraints were barely doing what Catwoman’s captors had intended.
What they really hadn’t intended was for the dose of diethyl ether administered to their pussy cat prisoner to wear off during transit.
Taking full advantage of the moment, the confined cat extended the super sharp claws of her gloves and made quick work of the bullshit bondage job her adversaries had half-assed.
‘Amateur Hour,’ judged Catwoman Selina Kyle after throwing aside the cut ropes and cloth from her mouth. ‘Now to Jimmy this lid,’ she plotted, rubbing her wrists and surveying the large trunk in the dark stow space of the super-sized sedan.
A particularly jarring bump on the rural side road knocked over a tool box beside the cussing kitty, dumping out screw drivers, half a ratchet set and a small crow bar that twinkled in Catwoman’s eye. ‘Well, well,’ smiled Selina at the unexpected gift, ‘Looks like it’s my lucky day.’
Selina grabbed the pocket pry bar and went to work on the trunk latch. Another rough series of bumps caused Selina to bang her head on the trunk lid. ‘Assholes!’ she growled, wincing and feeling around for the lever that went flying out of her paw.
The car had accelerated noticeably, and the anxious voices of her kidnappers had raised in intensity from beyond the back seat. The frame of the Lincoln began to sway aggressively as if cornering quickly to ditch a tail. ‘What the hell, fellas?’ complained the floundering feline, rolling around the teetering trunk of the flailing Ford.
Selina figured this outfit of oafs was novice at best. She felt utterly embarrassed for letting herself get poached by the alleged newbies when she ran into them at the helipad near Boston’s Museum of Fine Arts. She was hiding and waiting on a chopper that was transporting a loaned collection of ancient gold and jewelry for an exhibit when the gun-toting, calamitous crew intercepted a small briefcase from museum guards.
The locked aluminum case contained among other tantalizing trinkets, an emerald that was rumored to possess supernatural qualities. The oddly shaped gem apparently had the ability to attract water when properly encouraged with the correct conjuration. A folk legend told of ancient Persians using it to draw on ground water and atmospheric moisture to fill wells and irrigate crops. The curious cat burglar heard about the jewel’s supposed matter manipulating qualities and wanted to take a peek.
After witnessing their comedic crime unfold on the helipad, Catwoman confronted the goof troop to relieve them of their newly obtained acquisition. Foolishly, she miscounted the number of goofs on the roof and was blindsided by a fourth man sporting a soggy sock, soaked with sleepy-time serum who had snuck up behind the sassy Selina before a short struggle and a fade to ZZZzzz…
Fast forwarding a few hours into the future, our pretty kitty found herself ping-ponging around in the trunk of the goofball getaway car, when suddenly the driver hit the brakes… hard. Selina shared some more expletives as she was flung violently into front of the trunk.
The four men with thick foreign accents in the car were shouting at each other, and perhaps whoever or whatever was tailing them. The sound of car doors opening was followed by automatic gunfire as Selina hastily tried again to pick the trunk latch.
Something heavy landed on the trunk lid, pausing the pussycat’s picking. More yelling and a hail of gunfire erupted as bullets pierced the car from all directions, perforating the trunk and whizzing narrowly by the confined Catwoman. Selina tried to make herself as small as possible until the barrage of shells stopped.
The yelling outside seemed to be growing fainter and the gunfire more sporadic as if the men were scattering. A thin line of sunlight and fresh air poured into the trunk from where the lid was now ajar. ‘Wow. This really is my lucky day,’ breathed Selina with a sigh of relief, gawking agape at the quarter panel that had been reduced to Swiss cheese by malicious machine gun fire. ‘Time to get my ass out of this gas guzzling coffin,’ Selina proposed, lifting the tattered lid.
Sleek, high heeled boots on two long, scandalously sensual, nylon covered legs stepped out of the Town Car’s trunk onto a sandy trail in… Cape Cod? Catwoman’s titillating, tight black bodysuit and temptingly teasing tights looked contrastingly out of place; her alluring attire was designed for prowling around on dark, downtown Gotham nights rather than in the sun and sand of coastal Massachusetts.
Scanning her surroundings through techy, spectrum-enhancing eyewear and audio filtering cat-ear antennae, Catwoman’s kidnappers and whatever they had unleashed hell on with their assault rifles were nowhere to be seen, or heard.
Selina slinked around carefully to the side of the Lincoln to take a look inside. Perhaps she thought, they’d left behind the emerald’s case in their hasty departure. As the curious kitty peeked in the side window, the two wide and frightened eyes of a cowering crook returned a stare from the floor in the backseat. In one arm he had a death grip on the jewel case while his other hand brandished a black shiny revolver, that was pointed at Catwoman.
‘CLICK, CLICK, CLICK,’ went the hammer on the gun, repeatedly dead-heading an empty firing chamber. He was out of ammo. ‘For real honey, this is TRULY my lucky day,’ smiled Catwoman as she opened the door.
The crook leapt from his backseat abode and flew out the opposite open window as if he had been shot from a cannon, cartwheeling clumsily onto the dirt. A speedy Selina gave chase, as the goofy goon sprinted out into the coastal sand of the Dune Shacks Trail.
The flat-footed foe knew he was moments from being overtaken by a pouncing Catwoman. In a pathetic last ditch effort, he tossed the metal case with all his might out into the open sand. Selina shot him a confused “WTF?” glance as she strutted past him to retrieve her prize.
Unwavering, the nerdy looking thief raised his arms with his palms facing up, and closed his eyes. ‘'lieadat alma' 'iilaa alturba alma' yujadid al'ard!’ chanted the man resolutely, in a bold, booming Arabic voice that seemed mismatched with his tiny, wimpy appearance.
Catwoman stopped a few feet short of the case. The sandy soil beneath her had begun to quiver and quake. Spooky, spiraling spouts of dust and wind twirled down into the ground around the aluminum jewel case and a completely gobsmacked Selina. The sand heaved and lifted, before settling back down. As it did, the case and the cat began to sink.
The little Arabic-speaking man backed away slowly from the scene, making sure his plan worked before darting off toward the Lincoln. His incantation had activated the element-summoning emerald, which attracted massive amounts of water from above and underneath the surface… turning a swimming pool-sized area of the Cape Cod dunes into a thick, sucking quicksand.
The selfish, little thief decided that if he couldn’t have the emerald, then no one would. He knew the spell, and sacrificially cast it to send the jewel case and Catwoman into a gooey, gritty grave.
The swelling sand bubbled and boiled under Selina’s sinking legs as if it was being fed moisture from an underground spring. Her boots slipped into the silty soup that gripped them like concrete. The more she struggled, the deeper her fancy footwear planted themselves in the swampy silt. ‘Ugh! I’m going nowhere but down!’ cried Catwoman, twisting and tugging her sexy, sinking kicks to no avail.
Selina gasped as she glared at the belching, rippled rings of soggy sand where the case had just been. She realized that if she didn’t get the hell out of that quicksand, her vulnerable body would be swallowed next.
Growing desperate, Selina unzipped and pulled her calves from the her shiny boots that were now anchored fully and completely in the clutching quagmire.
Taking a step toward the safer, outer edge of the manifested muck trap, Selina dipped her pantyhose covered toes into the shifting sand. The unpleasant ooze engulfed her leg as she leaned forward, swallowing it up to her knee. She felt the sinister suction grabbing her foot and calf as she balanced herself and swung her other leg forward.
Gritty slurry slurped and slopped up her tights as she planted her other bootless foot into the mire. The wicked, wet sand was giving way beneath her and she whimpered at the feeling of her lovely, long legs sinking deeper. She tried to pull herself free, but the dangerous dune held her firmly. This time there would be no unzipping her way out.
All Selina could do was watch helplessly as the conjured quicksand slowly sucked her down. Liquid sand gurgled and gulped her stretchy silk wrapped thighs into its awful abyss. As long as water was gushing up from below, gravity would continue to send her to her doom at the bottom of the Cape dunes.
Panic forced the feline femme to involuntarily struggle in the sopping soil, causing her shimmying hips to sink quickly out of sight. ‘UHN! There’s no escape!’ the pretty kitty lamented, as sand swelled and seeped around her thin waist like a swallowing mouth.
Horror and disgust were expressed in Catwoman’s moans and cries of despair. She pushed on the sand futilely in an attempt to keep the dunes from devouring her. Soon, both her arms were trapped in the quicksand’s suction as if caught in giant Chinese finger traps.
Sand spilled in over her gasping breasts as the ceaselessly sinking Selina cried out and whimpered despondently. ‘No no no NO!!’ pleaded a corybantic Catwoman as sticky sand poured in over her shoulders.
Fighting desperately, Selina managed to free an arm and reached anxiously and pointlessly skyward with fleeting hope, as the terrible quicksand slurped up her neck and climbed over her chin. The gorging goop sucked down and swallowed her beautiful frantic face with a horrible ‘GBLUMP’ sound. Her reaching, clawing paw followed suit soon after; bubbles surfaced and popped from the depths of the morbid morass while catwoman’s grasping hand and hopes submerged completely under the sadistically suffocating, supernatural sinking trap…
Holding her last breath, Catwoman felt the terrifying inevitability of drowning loom under the squishy quicksand. Light headed and on the verge of total surrender, the peculiar feeling of something scooping her up from under her arms puzzled her. Suddenly, she was being hoisted up and out of the deadly dune soup, high into the air above Cape Cod. Selina humorously wondered for a moment if this was the afterlife and if her deliverer was going in the wrong direction, before she fully opened her eyes.
Cradling her and hovering many meters above the ground was an absolutely chiseled, dark haired tower of a man in a form-fitting, blue flight suit. A fiery red cape fluttered magnificently from his broad shoulders. A familiar, noble red “S” emblem beamed proudly from his solid chest. He held the smitten kitten safely in his arms along with an aluminum briefcase.
‘mMm… Hello, Boy Scout,’ purred the flirtatious feline, licking her lips and crossing her sexy, sandy legs seductively in her savior’s super strong arms. ‘Come to take pity on this kitty?’ pondered the provocative panther poutingly, as she wrapped her arms around her rescuer’s sturdy neck and ran her caressing hands admiringly through his hair.
The “Boy Scout” smiled and chuckled with amusement. Seemingly unfazed by Catwoman’s amorous advances, he assured the pretty purring pet,
‘It looks like this is your lucky day, Selina…’
Catwoman was jerked and jostled awake in the trunk of the Lincoln Town Car as it rolled down the washboard New England side road. Bound and gagged for her transport, the captured kitty could do little in way of bracing herself as she flung about turbulently in the cramped compartment. She cussed an incoherent series of colorful adjectives through the tattered cloth tied tightly around her head as she bumped and bounced off the sides of the trunk.
Her arms and wrists were hog tied behind her uncomfortably to her knees and ankles. Shoddily knotted, the restraints were barely doing what Catwoman’s captors had intended.
What they really hadn’t intended was for the dose of diethyl ether administered to their pussy cat prisoner to wear off during transit.
Taking full advantage of the moment, the confined cat extended the super sharp claws of her gloves and made quick work of the bullshit bondage job her adversaries had half-assed.
‘Amateur Hour,’ judged Catwoman Selina Kyle after throwing aside the cut ropes and cloth from her mouth. ‘Now to Jimmy this lid,’ she plotted, rubbing her wrists and surveying the large trunk in the dark stow space of the super-sized sedan.
A particularly jarring bump on the rural side road knocked over a tool box beside the cussing kitty, dumping out screw drivers, half a ratchet set and a small crow bar that twinkled in Catwoman’s eye. ‘Well, well,’ smiled Selina at the unexpected gift, ‘Looks like it’s my lucky day.’
Selina grabbed the pocket pry bar and went to work on the trunk latch. Another rough series of bumps caused Selina to bang her head on the trunk lid. ‘Assholes!’ she growled, wincing and feeling around for the lever that went flying out of her paw.
The car had accelerated noticeably, and the anxious voices of her kidnappers had raised in intensity from beyond the back seat. The frame of the Lincoln began to sway aggressively as if cornering quickly to ditch a tail. ‘What the hell, fellas?’ complained the floundering feline, rolling around the teetering trunk of the flailing Ford.
Selina figured this outfit of oafs was novice at best. She felt utterly embarrassed for letting herself get poached by the alleged newbies when she ran into them at the helipad near Boston’s Museum of Fine Arts. She was hiding and waiting on a chopper that was transporting a loaned collection of ancient gold and jewelry for an exhibit when the gun-toting, calamitous crew intercepted a small briefcase from museum guards.
The locked aluminum case contained among other tantalizing trinkets, an emerald that was rumored to possess supernatural qualities. The oddly shaped gem apparently had the ability to attract water when properly encouraged with the correct conjuration. A folk legend told of ancient Persians using it to draw on ground water and atmospheric moisture to fill wells and irrigate crops. The curious cat burglar heard about the jewel’s supposed matter manipulating qualities and wanted to take a peek.
After witnessing their comedic crime unfold on the helipad, Catwoman confronted the goof troop to relieve them of their newly obtained acquisition. Foolishly, she miscounted the number of goofs on the roof and was blindsided by a fourth man sporting a soggy sock, soaked with sleepy-time serum who had snuck up behind the sassy Selina before a short struggle and a fade to ZZZzzz…
Fast forwarding a few hours into the future, our pretty kitty found herself ping-ponging around in the trunk of the goofball getaway car, when suddenly the driver hit the brakes… hard. Selina shared some more expletives as she was flung violently into front of the trunk.
The four men with thick foreign accents in the car were shouting at each other, and perhaps whoever or whatever was tailing them. The sound of car doors opening was followed by automatic gunfire as Selina hastily tried again to pick the trunk latch.
Something heavy landed on the trunk lid, pausing the pussycat’s picking. More yelling and a hail of gunfire erupted as bullets pierced the car from all directions, perforating the trunk and whizzing narrowly by the confined Catwoman. Selina tried to make herself as small as possible until the barrage of shells stopped.
The yelling outside seemed to be growing fainter and the gunfire more sporadic as if the men were scattering. A thin line of sunlight and fresh air poured into the trunk from where the lid was now ajar. ‘Wow. This really is my lucky day,’ breathed Selina with a sigh of relief, gawking agape at the quarter panel that had been reduced to Swiss cheese by malicious machine gun fire. ‘Time to get my ass out of this gas guzzling coffin,’ Selina proposed, lifting the tattered lid.
Sleek, high heeled boots on two long, scandalously sensual, nylon covered legs stepped out of the Town Car’s trunk onto a sandy trail in… Cape Cod? Catwoman’s titillating, tight black bodysuit and temptingly teasing tights looked contrastingly out of place; her alluring attire was designed for prowling around on dark, downtown Gotham nights rather than in the sun and sand of coastal Massachusetts.
Scanning her surroundings through techy, spectrum-enhancing eyewear and audio filtering cat-ear antennae, Catwoman’s kidnappers and whatever they had unleashed hell on with their assault rifles were nowhere to be seen, or heard.
Selina slinked around carefully to the side of the Lincoln to take a look inside. Perhaps she thought, they’d left behind the emerald’s case in their hasty departure. As the curious kitty peeked in the side window, the two wide and frightened eyes of a cowering crook returned a stare from the floor in the backseat. In one arm he had a death grip on the jewel case while his other hand brandished a black shiny revolver, that was pointed at Catwoman.
‘CLICK, CLICK, CLICK,’ went the hammer on the gun, repeatedly dead-heading an empty firing chamber. He was out of ammo. ‘For real honey, this is TRULY my lucky day,’ smiled Catwoman as she opened the door.
The crook leapt from his backseat abode and flew out the opposite open window as if he had been shot from a cannon, cartwheeling clumsily onto the dirt. A speedy Selina gave chase, as the goofy goon sprinted out into the coastal sand of the Dune Shacks Trail.
The flat-footed foe knew he was moments from being overtaken by a pouncing Catwoman. In a pathetic last ditch effort, he tossed the metal case with all his might out into the open sand. Selina shot him a confused “WTF?” glance as she strutted past him to retrieve her prize.
Unwavering, the nerdy looking thief raised his arms with his palms facing up, and closed his eyes. ‘'lieadat alma' 'iilaa alturba alma' yujadid al'ard!’ chanted the man resolutely, in a bold, booming Arabic voice that seemed mismatched with his tiny, wimpy appearance.
Catwoman stopped a few feet short of the case. The sandy soil beneath her had begun to quiver and quake. Spooky, spiraling spouts of dust and wind twirled down into the ground around the aluminum jewel case and a completely gobsmacked Selina. The sand heaved and lifted, before settling back down. As it did, the case and the cat began to sink.
The little Arabic-speaking man backed away slowly from the scene, making sure his plan worked before darting off toward the Lincoln. His incantation had activated the element-summoning emerald, which attracted massive amounts of water from above and underneath the surface… turning a swimming pool-sized area of the Cape Cod dunes into a thick, sucking quicksand.
The selfish, little thief decided that if he couldn’t have the emerald, then no one would. He knew the spell, and sacrificially cast it to send the jewel case and Catwoman into a gooey, gritty grave.
The swelling sand bubbled and boiled under Selina’s sinking legs as if it was being fed moisture from an underground spring. Her boots slipped into the silty soup that gripped them like concrete. The more she struggled, the deeper her fancy footwear planted themselves in the swampy silt. ‘Ugh! I’m going nowhere but down!’ cried Catwoman, twisting and tugging her sexy, sinking kicks to no avail.
Selina gasped as she glared at the belching, rippled rings of soggy sand where the case had just been. She realized that if she didn’t get the hell out of that quicksand, her vulnerable body would be swallowed next.
Growing desperate, Selina unzipped and pulled her calves from the her shiny boots that were now anchored fully and completely in the clutching quagmire.
Taking a step toward the safer, outer edge of the manifested muck trap, Selina dipped her pantyhose covered toes into the shifting sand. The unpleasant ooze engulfed her leg as she leaned forward, swallowing it up to her knee. She felt the sinister suction grabbing her foot and calf as she balanced herself and swung her other leg forward.
Gritty slurry slurped and slopped up her tights as she planted her other bootless foot into the mire. The wicked, wet sand was giving way beneath her and she whimpered at the feeling of her lovely, long legs sinking deeper. She tried to pull herself free, but the dangerous dune held her firmly. This time there would be no unzipping her way out.
All Selina could do was watch helplessly as the conjured quicksand slowly sucked her down. Liquid sand gurgled and gulped her stretchy silk wrapped thighs into its awful abyss. As long as water was gushing up from below, gravity would continue to send her to her doom at the bottom of the Cape dunes.
Panic forced the feline femme to involuntarily struggle in the sopping soil, causing her shimmying hips to sink quickly out of sight. ‘UHN! There’s no escape!’ the pretty kitty lamented, as sand swelled and seeped around her thin waist like a swallowing mouth.
Horror and disgust were expressed in Catwoman’s moans and cries of despair. She pushed on the sand futilely in an attempt to keep the dunes from devouring her. Soon, both her arms were trapped in the quicksand’s suction as if caught in giant Chinese finger traps.
Sand spilled in over her gasping breasts as the ceaselessly sinking Selina cried out and whimpered despondently. ‘No no no NO!!’ pleaded a corybantic Catwoman as sticky sand poured in over her shoulders.
Fighting desperately, Selina managed to free an arm and reached anxiously and pointlessly skyward with fleeting hope, as the terrible quicksand slurped up her neck and climbed over her chin. The gorging goop sucked down and swallowed her beautiful frantic face with a horrible ‘GBLUMP’ sound. Her reaching, clawing paw followed suit soon after; bubbles surfaced and popped from the depths of the morbid morass while catwoman’s grasping hand and hopes submerged completely under the sadistically suffocating, supernatural sinking trap…
Holding her last breath, Catwoman felt the terrifying inevitability of drowning loom under the squishy quicksand. Light headed and on the verge of total surrender, the peculiar feeling of something scooping her up from under her arms puzzled her. Suddenly, she was being hoisted up and out of the deadly dune soup, high into the air above Cape Cod. Selina humorously wondered for a moment if this was the afterlife and if her deliverer was going in the wrong direction, before she fully opened her eyes.
Cradling her and hovering many meters above the ground was an absolutely chiseled, dark haired tower of a man in a form-fitting, blue flight suit. A fiery red cape fluttered magnificently from his broad shoulders. A familiar, noble red “S” emblem beamed proudly from his solid chest. He held the smitten kitten safely in his arms along with an aluminum briefcase.
‘mMm… Hello, Boy Scout,’ purred the flirtatious feline, licking her lips and crossing her sexy, sandy legs seductively in her savior’s super strong arms. ‘Come to take pity on this kitty?’ pondered the provocative panther poutingly, as she wrapped her arms around her rescuer’s sturdy neck and ran her caressing hands admiringly through his hair.
The “Boy Scout” smiled and chuckled with amusement. Seemingly unfazed by Catwoman’s amorous advances, he assured the pretty purring pet,
‘It looks like this is your lucky day, Selina…’