Grey Gargoyle does the Marvel U

by cmq

Chapter One: Stoning the Cat


Felicia Hardy swung through the darkened sky.  It was well past midnight, time for the Black Cat to prowl the night!  She landed softly and silently on the old venerable building opposite the museum of art.

She stepped onto the ledge overlooking the street to look at the museum below. Her sleek, skintight black outfit looked like it was sprayed onto her supple curvaceous figure.  Faux white fur lined her white gloves and boots.  Her painted-on spandex suit was slit down the front in an amazing bit of décolletage all the way down to her navel. A cold wind came up and chilled her body.  Felicia’s nipples stood on end like stiffened pegs.  “Brrrr, it ‘s getting colder.” Looks like winters coming early, guess I’ll have to get the old costume out the closet sooner than I thought.  It had the higher cut neckline and fur lined neckline that let her survive many an unseasonably cold night, but for now she would have to make do with her more daring outfit.  Her diamond-studded choker, like a fancy cat collar, adorned her slender neck and sparkled in the moonlight. Her waist length platinum blonde hair fluttered in the night breeze.

Upon surveying the area Felicia stealthily bounded off the roof in one graceful leap.  A ballerina performing in the silence of the night she confidently spun in the air and pivoted her arm.  A grappling claw shot out from under the fur on her right handed glove, securing itself to the ledge behind her.  She swung, light as a feather onto the rooftop as her soft soled boots made contact with the gravel roof. Felicia froze in the darkness, only her breasts wobbled, barely restrained in her costume, and threatened to slip out of her costume’s deep cleavage.  It was quiet, clear, deserted.


No rooftop alarms, which was to be expected considering the pigeon population.  The rooftop door was definitely alarmed though, but the ventilation system, however, was not!  At least not since she had snuck in many moons ago, when she was operating on the bad side of the tracks.  She had swapped out a priceless diamond necklace on loan from overseas that night and switched it with a very convincing fake.  To this day she didn’t think anyone had noticed the switch, which made her a little sorry that she had done it in the first place.  She had made amends ever since by mailing the original back to its rightful owner, part and parcel of going straight now that she was a private detective.

The claws on her glove acted much like a screwdriver as she quickly undid the bolts on the ventilation screen.  The cover came off and she slinked in easily as her lithe athletic body allowed her to squeeze into the cramped metal tunnel like she was greased with butter.  Carefully and silently she descended into the depth of the building.  She deactivated a motion detector at the other end of the tunnel quite easily.  She was glad she hadn’t lost her touch, it had been quite a while since she had a chance to put her cat burglar skills to the test.

Arriving at the end of the ventilation grill, she carefully unscrewed the exterior screws with a tool hidden in the fur lining of her left glove. All her lockpicks and cat burglar tools were secreted there for easy access.  She grasped the grill of the vent to make sure it didn’t drop to the floor, as the last screw was undone.  Carefully, she turned the grill and brought it into the vent with her.  The tightness of the vent allowed her to just barely squeeze it past her hips and rear end as she emerged from the opening, her breasts swelled out, free from the restricting metal boxing.  She looked around, no cameras in sight, a good sign.  She dropped fifteen feet to the floor but landed like an ace gymnast with a solid perfect landing.  The marble floors were cold, but her soft-soled boots managed to insulate her from the chilly tiles.  Her soft footsteps were barely audible in the cavernous museum display room.  If she had done her homework correctly, there would be a guard shift change at this very moment, allowing her access to the room with the item she was after.

It was four days ago that she had gotten a call in her CatsEye detective agency.  A Pierre Duval had called from France, claiming the priceless golden kitten that had been on display in the museum of art for these past few months in an exchange with the Moscow museum was in fact a long ago stolen piece of art from his family.  He had faxed in details and chronology of how he had tracked the piece across three continents over the past few years and how the current owner, a secret arms dealer, had negated all claims to the item other than his own.  The paperwork looked awfully convincing, and Felicia had a soft spot for the underdog story.  She promised she would look into it and spent the next two days casing the museum.  She had to work fast as the display was going to be packed up in a couple more days and shipped back to Russia.  She called Mr. Duval and arranged for her fee to be delivered the night before she attempted to reclaim the item and he was quite thankful in wiring her the money all the way from Europe.

The Cat quickly ascended the marble stairway and stealthily hid behind a suit of armor as a guard on the way back to the desk passed.  She did not breathe as he carelessly passed by with his flashlight.  Like an ebony sculpture she went unnoticed as the guard yawned. Incompetent, Felicia thought.  It was security like this that made my job so easy back when I was on the wrong side of the law.  Those were the days…

She emerged from her hiding place and walked up to the velvet covered display poles.  Unhooking the chain she stared at the golden kitten, no bigger than a real kitten, smooth gold polish and diamond studs for eyes.  Under glass, no problem as she carefully snipped the alarm wires with her sharp claws and lifted the glass case.  The golden kitten was in the palm of her hand for no more than a second when she heard…applause?  Strange applause, like concrete cinderblocks being clunked together.

“Bravo! Bravo!  Truly magnifique!”  A voice, gravelly, with a French accent…from the darkness…

“Who are you?” Felicia stood her ground as she looked around the room.  A stoney figure, that had been so still and concealed in the shadows a few minutes ago moved. She was sure it was only a mere statue until now.

The figure emerged from the darkness to stand in the light of one of the few still illuminated ceiling spotlights.  He was tall, hulking, with some sort of wings or…cape?  He was seemingly made of stone all over…the Grey Gargoyle!

She had remembered reading about the supervillain many times.  Many times a resident of the Vault, the former supervillain maximum-security prison, the Gargoyle had managed to be let loose on the public numerous times.  His special ability was his touch, and the ability to turn things, including people, to stone for one hour!

“What are you doing here, Gargoyle,” Felicia started slowly inching her way to the exit.  “Looking for something to steal?  I didn’t think you went in for this kind of…”

“Heist? As you Americans say?” Grey Gargoyle laughed a scratchy gravelly kind of throaty laugh.  “No, no, no, my business here is strictly with you my dear.”

“You want the golden kitten?” Felicia brought the gilded prize close to her bosom.  “Forget it buddy, this belongs to a poor family who…”

“Who had it stolen from them many years ago, a family heirloom stolen by government thieves and auctioned off to the highest bidder…a tragic case of injustice…” The Gargoyle laughed sarcastically.

“That-that’s right,” Felicia hesitated.  “How do you know…your voice…it, it sounds different but there’s something familiar about it…you’re Pierre Duval!”

“Guilty, my dear, I confess using the golden kitten as bait. I was sure you would not be able to pass it up. So by forging the background details of the piece from my friends in France and forwarding it to your little office I was quite certain you would be taken in by my little deception.”

“But why?” The Cat stood her ground, even though her common sense was screaming at her to beat it.  She didn’t like being played by a fool not by anyone, supervillian, media or client.  “If you got me to steal the kitten for you why come here? To make sure I got it?”

“Well, in a way,” the Gargoyle said coyly. “You misunderstand, my darling; I’m not interested in the kitten,”

“You’re not?” Felicia raised an eyebrow beneath her stringy ebon mask.

“I’m interested in the Cat, namely the Black Cat…” the Gargoyle elaborated.

“M-me?” Felicia was taken aback and her body felt a cold shudder run through it.

“That’s right, you…I’m interested in you…” Grey Gargoyle smiled.

“What can I do that you can’t already do?” Black Cat declared. “You’ve managed to gain entry quite easily,” she motioned with her free hand around the room.

“I’m not interested in your skills, I’m interested in your body!” He lunged at her with amazing speed. 

“You’re beginning to creep me-out!”  She saw him lunge from across the room and managed to leap into the air at just the right instant.  He crashed to the ground, his palm striking the black and white tiled marble floor and turning a six foot section to stone!

“Oh!”  Felicia had never seen the Gargoyles touch in person, she had only read about it.  Seeing it in person was incredible and frightening at the same time.  She landed just beyond his feet and scampered away into the darkness, unfortunately now he was between her and the exit to the room now.

“Come, come my little kitten, don’t resist my touch, embrace it!  You’re quite beautiful, don’t you wish to remain that way forever?”  The Gargoyle’s stoney feet screeched across the tile like fingernails on a  blackboard.

“As a stone statue?” Felicia exclaimed in an astonished voice.  Is this what this was all about?  He wanted to turn me to stone?  Why?  What good would I be as a stone statue?  Then she remembered a news story from a year or so ago, how there had been a famous artist who was really the Grey Gargoyle in disguise and how he had turned numerous women into stone statues and sold them off to high priced art collectors. “In your dreams creep!” Felicia screamed.

“Absolutely!  I have seen pictures of you in the newspapers and I have long desired to see what you would look like in person and in stone!” Duval retorted.

“I don’t believe this, there’s no way I’m letting you touch any part of me!” Felicia slinked closer to the exit, watching for an opening and her chance.

The Gargoyle paced, looking for the ebony clad femme to emerge from the darkness.  “Au contraire, I look forward to touching numerous parts of your body!  Your firm breasts, when stone, will remain perfect and round forever!  Your womanly hips and derriere will be fixed and preserved in hard, unchanging stone…your lovely face, so perfect with lips so…”

“Enough, pervert!”  Felicia raced out of the darkness and leapt over the Gargoyle’s head, a good six feet in the air.   She still had the golden kitten in her hand as she landed in the hallway beyond.

“Ah, ah!”  The gargoyle had anticipated her losing her calm with his salacious comments on her figure and had been prepared to act when she finally moved.  He was deceptively quick and dexterous for someone made seemingly of stone.  He reached out as Felicia landed behind him with his right hand and managed to grasp a slender ankle as she began her stride.

“Oh!”  Felicia felt the touch, the hand grasping her ankle and preventing her from from escaping.  She managed to turn her head in the instant she felt contact and saw…her leg turning to stone!  It happened quickly, so fast she barely had time to register what was happening to her body.  The stoney touch of the Gargoyle leapt forth from his right palm, pressed firmly against her right ankle lifted high in the air as she started to flee.  The stone wave swept up her lean long leg in the blink of an eye, turning her costume and flesh beneath to stone. As the petrification proceeded throughout her body, it swept into the cleft of her firm round buttocks and down her left leg.  She was planted to the ground and firmly rooted and unmoving now that her lower body was made entirely of stone.  She could, for the briefest instant, feel the stone envelop her crotch, turning every crack of her pussy to immobile rock before it shot up her stomach and hips, her thin sides and overlapped her chest and back.  Her breasts froze into solid stone globes; her nipples into gray protruding pegs.  Her arms were changed into slender stone columns.  Even the fur lining her gloves turned to brittle splinters of stone!  She couldn’t even blink in that last instant as the stoney touch lapped at her face, immobilizing it, freezing it in stone and proceeding to turn every hair on her head into grey unmoving stone.  It all happened in a mere second, but for the Black Cat she would remain in that fixed, immobile position for the next hour.  A figure frozen in stone; a monument to that millisecond in time that the Grey Gargoyle touched her!

There was silence in the museum.  The Gargoyle released his grip on the Black Cat and she teetered dangerously.  “No, no, my dear…” the Gargoyle quickly got to his feet and grasped the stoney figure that was the Black Cat daintily in his cumbersome hands.  He held her long right calf, extended in muscular exertion and stroked it arousingly.  The skintight fabric that her costume was composed of allowed for maximum translation of her anatomy.  Every curve and detail of her figure was preserved in stone now, as he admired the look up her leg and into her butt.  Her back was a frozen mass of muscles that could no longer move.  Her face, barely turned in profile now was a picture of stone beauty.

The Gargoyle spent a silent minute appreciating the beauty of his first acquisition.  It had taken weeks of preparation, false documents, false background identity info and such to maneuver the Black Cat into this position. And what a position it was…frozen in mid run, one leg on the ground, one trailing in the air. He had long been tempted to just go to her office and touch her there, fix her in granite surprise, but he was glad he waited.  In costume, with her fantastic figure displayed in stone, she was a statuesque goddess.   Fitting that she should be preserved in stone inside a museum. He walked around her, careful to hold her steady.  He looked at the detail around her crotch, the tight fabric had not disappointed him as it clung to every crevice of her pubic mound.  Her navel, exposed in that incredible plunging slit of her outfit led right up to her twin breasts, hanging in perfect symmetry.  He touched her stone breasts and felt his own stoney member react to the erotic touch of petrified nipples.  He swore he could see some of her petrified aureoles emerging from the cleavage but her granite state and the poor lighting made it difficult to tell for sure.  He was tempted to try and snap off the thin stone shell that her costume had become but resisted the temptation.  Better to keep her pristine and intact…

Her face was a piece of beauty, and her mask did not detract from her pretty face. If anything it made her more mysterious…more glamorous…more desirable… a mystery woman. Her head was turned, trying to spin around and see…her neck muscles were etched nicely in stone now, good definition…her lips pursed open in surprise no doubt, as she probably was sure she would have made a clean getaway when she managed to leap over his head.  And her eyes…Her eyes were widened framed with full, yet delicate granite eyelashes and most definitely in shock.  Or was it fear?  A touch of surprise perhaps? She had not taken into account his determination in making her an exhibit in his gallery.  And what an exhibit she would make…he followed the lines of her arms, one (the right) lunging forward, the other (the left) trailing behind with outstretched fingers permanented into stone digits.  He was amused to see the golden kitten, unaffected by his touch, still yellow and golden and irretrievably affixed in the rocky hard grasp of her right hand.  She would forever be holding her prize, which was fitting as he had his prize forever…

He gently lifted the statue, taking hold of her right thigh and slipping his arm around her waist and just under her breasts. He managed to tip her up and off the ground.  Fortunately, the accident that rendered him living stone had also blessed him with incredible strength, but her pose made it awkward for him to maneuver her around.  And he had to get her out of this museum intact…little problem for the Grey Gargoyle though!  He carried the sexy statue to the front entrance.  It was a simple matter to turn the guards on duty to stone, as they had no clue he was in the building to begin with.  A touch of stone to the doors and a strong kick rendered the entrance doors a mass of rubble.  He retrieved the fragile Felicia, left in a safe place on the floor, turned on her side so that she looked like a fallen runner; a petrified mercury-like pose similar to the one that flower company used…

The Gargoyle put the Black Cat gently onto the padded interior of his storage truck, fortunately even in her extended limb pose she fit inside.  He drove off into the darkness leaving only silence and stone behind.

At his base (the Gallery, he had dubbed) the Gargoyle briskly stirred the chemicals in the bucket.  He had to completely seal the statue of the Black Cat with his special protective coating within an hour or she would come out of her stoney stasis and he would lose her pristine pose of perfection.  Dipping in the nozzle of his sprayer, he filled the container and began shellacking the petrified body.  Every inch of the Black Cat’s stone figure was covered with a thin protective layer of clear varnish.  It would harden and seal her tight, effectively imprisoning her in her statue state forever!  It was something he had stumbled upon by accident, as he always though his touch wore off after an hour.  But experimenting on some petrified models when he assumed the identity of a master sculptor, he managed to create a compound that somehow negated the time limit of his powers and preserved his beautiful maidens forever in stone!

Sixty minutes after his captured cat had been frozen as a statue, she remained illustrious stone!  The Gargoyle smiled and mounted her frozen body onto a special pedestal designed to hold her erect.  He admired her graceful body, immortalized forever now, and would soon set off to add the next lovely to his gallery of stone!

There was only one more touch to be added to his masterpiece. The finishing touch. A carved plaque, reading: “The Petrified Pussy”, that he added to the base of frozen Felicia’s statue.


Continues in a Fantastic Part Two...

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