Thirty Days of Honeymoon (Patreon)

Bruce knew he was wasn't quite normal. He was a bit more 'goal-oriented' than most. But even if he'd led the most mundane, ordinary, regular life there was, he didn't think he'd understand shopping malls. Anything he might be looking for crammed in with two hundred things he wasn't. Dick hadn't liked malls, Zatanna didn't, Diana didn't. But two wives meant he'd married into twice as many families. He'd already had to deal with Zachary borrowing every car but the Batmobile from his garage. He'd almost rather just give Cassie a car than get spritzed in the face by any more perfume. “Cassie, you understand that Diana and Zatanna and I—it's not because Diana isn't enough for me or anything like that...” “Dude, chapter-skip the talk. I get two more people browsing my wishlist this Christmas. One of them's a billionaire. You can have as many wives as you want.” “Well, that's good to hear.” “Why, is Talia taking your phone calls?” “Shush. Buy something expensive.” Cassie looked at a dress in a window. “Expensive enough to make Diana rant about capitalism?” “Just enough.” That’s when the floor shook. Not much, a tremor, just enough to make the crowd pause, look up from their smartphones, stop in their tracks. Not even stop, just take a few slow, haltering steps, hesitating in readiness for continuing on apace. But then the floor shook again. This time cracks ran through it. Bruce pulled Cassie aside as she stared, into a store, and the floor split open, tiles falling through into the shattered foundation, the gaping hole that immediately filled with a redwood sized vine. It grew until it hit the skylight, bursting through that until its stalk was too thick to go any further. The trunk of it now filled the mall, level by level, splitting open now, letting out Feraks that hissed and roared at the crowd, pushing them even further back then their fear had. Finally, the Sirens emerged. Catwoman, her entire body covered by skintight leather, silhouetting a sparse frame, a dancer’s body. Harley Quinn, her spandex even tighter than Selina’s bodysuit, creeping over the crevice of her ass and the hardened points of her nipples. Poison Ivy, the leaves of her costume hanging off her, covering her in a disdainfully casual way, like they were vines that had just happened to grow onto a statue. Ivy wanted to deny men a look at her as much as she didn’t care if they did see. “Attention shoppers!” Selina called, cracking her whip to get people’s attention, as if they could pay attention to anything else. “Would Mr. Prince—or Mr. Zatara, I’m not sure how these things work—please present him to us for the standard kidnapping and ransom? Or, hmm…” She tapped her lips thoughtfully with the handle of her whip. Ivy broke in with a suggestion. “The suffering of the innocents, excessive property damage…?” “Explosions!” Harley cried. “Lots and lots of bang, boom, bang!” Bruce had preparations in place for such a contingency. Drawing his cell phone, he started the proper programs running. “Alright,” Cassie said, her voice low and commanding. “You go, get a ski mask or whatever and back me up when you can, I’ll engage them.” “No,” Bruce said. His voice bringing Cassie to a heart attack stop. She may have commanded the Titans, but he’d commanded the League. “It’s too crowded, too much collateral. I’ll go with them.” “They’ll kill you!” “Quinn, maybe. The other two aren’t so unprofessional. Get Zatanna and Diana. Let them handle it. This can’t be traced to Batman.” “Oh, you’re referring to yourself in the third person, that’s wonderful…” Cassie said as Bruce stood, crisply walking out of the store with his hands up. A falling chunk of debris had taken out the storefront. He stepped out through the broken window. Selina spotted him first. Like she was attuned to him. “Brucie. Hey. Funny running into you here.” Her whip flicked out, catching him around the waist. He submitted to it as she drew him in. “Heard you got married. How many kids is that, now? It all seems very Cheaper By The Dozen.” “You don’t seem like a stranger to adoption yourself,” Bruce retorted, nodding to Ivy and Harley. “I resent your implication,” Ivy said. “On my own behalf, not on Harley’s.” “Yeah, I’m immature,” Harley agreed. “Are we kidnapping this guy or what?” “Oh yes. Ivy?” Ivy cupped her hand in front of her lips and blew. The last thing Bruce saw was a sparkling collection of pink smoke billowing towards his face… *** Bruce woke up to the smell of flowers, soil, rain. He groaned inwardly. How many greenhouses were there in the city? Opened his eyes and saw that this was one of the smaller ones, a cottage, he could see the city lights through the sprinkler-flashed windows. Ivy was in the background, snipping something. Selina was closer. Going through his personal effects on a card table in front of him. He was tied to a chair. Professional job. It was wooden and Ivy had brought it back to life, vines and wood webbing around him like that bicycle that’d had a tree grow around it. “Selina,” he said, “I don’t think you’re taking the break-up very well.” She picked through the smashed remains of his phone, coming up with a tracker, crushing it between her claws. “What? I’m moving on. If you’d cheated on Ivy with two women—“ “We broke up.” “You broke up, because you couldn’t stand my independence, and then you shacked up with two of your little followers from the Justice League.” He barked a laugh that briefly drew Ivy’s gaze. “Diana is no one’s follower. Zatanna is… actually pretty submissive.” “Always the fishnets,” Selina mused. “Dinah’s the same way. I’m surprised you haven’t asked about your precious little secret yet. That must take impressive self-restraint—but then, restraint isn’t your problem, is it?” “You wouldn’t tell.” “No, I wouldn’t. Wouldn’t be fair to the kids. But I do plan on making you pay out the nose, publically humiliating you, slashing your tires, et cetera, et cetera.” She found another bug, cut it in two. “By the way, we have a little signal blocker here. I don’t think your palsies will be finding you fast. Not that many of them could care much for ‘Bruce Wayne’. I’m sure about as many people know your secret as know the 9,000 digit of pi. Or something.” “Are you talking gossip column stuff yet?” Ivy called. “I want to be there for that!” “Just bank codes!” Selina assured her, shouting back across the greenhouse. She gave Bruce a smile. “Ivy wants to torture you for details about the wifeys’ sex lives. Who’s on top, who’s on bottom, what goes where. That sort of thing.” “I don’t suppose you’re curious?” “You know what it did to the cat.” “Bring her over. I’ll talk. ‘Cowardly playboy,’ remember?” “That old routine,” Selina tsked. She clucked her tongue at Ivy. “C’mon, Ives. Brucie wants to talk business.” “In a second…” Bruce cracked his neck. “Where’s Quinn, anyway?” “Making the ransom notes. She does love her arts and crafts.” “Who doesn’t?” “You’re pretty sarcastic for a guy who has to have a bat on all his furnishings…” Ivy came over, peeling her gardening gloves off. Even someone as close to the Earth as her didn’t want to ruin her nails. “So, Brucie—decided a little kiss and tell is better than having weeds growing in your stomach?” “Depends on the weed, I guess.” He gave her a hapless smile. “I’m afraid I can’t be too much of a help, though, sorry. I don’t really get much first-hand knowledge.” “Of your wives? Play fair, Brucie. Which one of them is trying to deflect attention from her cellulite, the fishnets or the bustier?” “Honestly, I wouldn’t know. I’m not much of a… participant.” Bruce looked into Ivy’s eyes. “They mostly get by without me.” Selina laughed aloud. Ivy put her foot on the chair, hunching down to confront Bruce face to face. “I’m not amused by this.” “It’s the truth! Surely you’ve heard the rumors—all the models who never seal the deal, the tell-alls with nothing to tell. Well, they’ve got it right.” He looked away. “I’m not really… equipped for that kind of thing. But try telling the society pages that your ‘sexual’ doesn’t begin with ‘hetero’.” Selina covered her barking laugh with her hand. Ivy shoved Bruce back in his seat with a kick, dismounting from the chair and putting her foot back down. “Bullshit. Why would they marry you then? It’s not like they need the money.” Bruce shrugged. “Two women getting married, controversial. Two women getting married to a man… taboo. Which would you rather be?” “And you?” “I don’t have to answer questions about my nightlife. And they leave me alone to do my knitting. I quite like knitting.” A flick of her ankle uprooted Bruce’s chair, sending him crashing down on his back. He stared up at Ivy as she stood over him, a bare foot mounting his chest. “I want something juicy, Brucie. I want to know what makes that little Amazon witch come, I want to know if Stockings spits or swallows, and I want to know now!” Bruce had seen enough criminals do it to whimper quite convincingly. “They’re not exclusive!” Ivy was taken aback. “What are you talking about? You just said they’re really just married to each other!” “Yes, but—not with me! With other people! Other women.” Ivy cocked her head to the side. “Go on.” “Haven’t you seen them together? With Black Canary? With Big Barda? Or Starfire, or Power Girl, or the others? They bring them to the mansion and no one thinks anything of it, since they’re married to me. But really…” “Really?” Ivy prompted, her hips canting to one side. “They’re orgies. I watch, sometimes, when they don’t mind. Even for me, there’s an artistry to it. Have you ever seen three women together, Ivy? Two of them lovers, intimate, the other one new, novel. They team up on her. Overwhelm her. Devour her. It’s magnificent.” “Really,” Ivy said again. A flat, dull voice. A hint of something under it. “They move in concert. Like a pair of hunters. Denying her, then granting themselves to her. With Batwoman…” Here, Ivy bit her lip. They all loved Batwoman. “They wouldn’t let her kiss them after a certain point. They had to hold her down to stop her, but that was an easy thing for Diana. Then they stripped her, very slowly, not breaking a single stitch. She writhed, she moaned, but they wouldn’t let her up. They sucked on her breasts, both at the same time. I saw Batwoman’s legs just kicking, kicking, like she couldn’t get traction. Then they let her have her kiss. They kissed her together, Diana her mouth, Zatanna her neck. Fingered her together. The thing is, they don’t stop, ever, until the woman comes. It’s like a victory for them. They just kept adding fingers until she came undone. Then they licked her. Zatanna from behind, Diana from the front. She begged them to stop. Then thanked them after they wouldn’t. Then they made her please them. I’d say they used her, like a toy, but she loved it all. Being mounted. Being ridden. Taken, over and over again, shown what it was like to be the wife of an Amazon. Just for one night! It was morning before they let her sleep. You know, they have a month-long waiting list? They’re not that busy, they just don’t want the girls to overwhelm themselves by going two nights in a row. Supergirl offered them all the sunstones on Kandor to let her go again. They wouldn’t even take her call.” Selina doubted it—she knew how Bruce was, and was positive Zatanna and Diana were getting the same treatment she’d been fortunate enough to receive once—but hearing the words, she couldn’t help but picture it. Neither could Ivy. Selina could see her nipples standing out. They pushed through the leaves covering her breasts. “What’s taking Harley so long?” Ivy complained suddenly, a slight tremor in her voice. “C’mon, Selina. Let’s go find Harley.” “Yeah,” Selina agreed. She hadn’t moved throughout Bruce’s little speech. When she did, she felt how tight her costume was across her breasts. Her burning breasts… The moment they stepped out of the greenhouse and onto the roof of their Bowery hide-out, the cold of the Gotham night pressed in. It did nothing to cool Selina. All she felt was how much more acutely warm her body was inside her leather bodysuit. She tugged her zipper down an inch from her collar, letting the breeze ice down her throat, and felt Ivy’s eyes there as well. Suddenly, she was even warmer. “Never?” Ivy asked, saying just enough words for her voice to lilt seductively. “Not for a long time,” Selina replied. “And not any of your business.” Selina reached out. Rested her green-nailed finger on inside the circle of her O-ring zipper. Her fingernail was cut short. The green a glossy jade. Selina could feel the warmth of sun-baked soil in her fingerprint, right through her catsuit. “I could make it my business.” “And I could let you,” Selina replied coolly. “Do,” Ivy said. Just enough words to seduce Selina. She trailed her finger down Selina’s body, as if it were just an accident that she took the zipper with her, that she sliced it between Selina’s jutting breasts. When the zipper was between them—it went slowly, so slowly—Ivy added her middle finger, pushing it past the zipper, touching Selina’s sweating skin. She pulled with her pointer, probed with her middle, drawing the zipper down Selina’s belly. Her touch already sending shockwaves down below where the actual finger was, down where Selina was low and animal and womanly. She clawed it down Selina’s pelvis, her other fingers hanging off Selina’s hipbones. Then she let go. The zipper shockingly dangled against Selina’s sex through hateful layers of leather, body armor, panties—wetness. “See if you like this…” Ivy murmured, flashing green nails opening up Selina’s split leather, pulling them to either side of her cleavage. “Hold. For me,” she ordered, her words as rare and as sensual as rosebuds in winter. Selina couldn’t help but obey—not Ivy, but her own soaring needs. She held her unzipped catsuit open, leaning back against the warm glass of the greenhouse as Ivy gently kissed her breasts—gently nibbled them—gently licked them—not so gently sucked them. By the end, Selina was urging her breasts forward, trying to get more. Her body was craven, helpless. Her mind equally so. She couldn’t stop picturing Harley doing this to, with Ivy, to her… God, they really did, didn’t they? Selina had never understood… A smile came to Ivy’s face. Even silent, Selina was a cacophony—head tilted up, breath deafening in the night air, jaw clicking open or teeth grinding together, every noise loud, explosive, the sound of Selina’s destruction and only Ivy could hear. Such a mammal. Such an animal. Ivy got down on her knees. She tongued Selina’s navel, felt the animal quiver. No more coaxing. No more seduction. Just nature. She tore the zipper the rest of the way down. Selina only felt the chill on her sex for a moment before it was heated by Ivy’s beautiful tongue. Selina’s mouth fell open for the last time—it would stay that way throughout their lovemaking—a moan coming up from deep inside as she stretched against the glass, the light from inside, reaching for it with outstretched fingers as the rest of her surrendered completely to this new, wonderful feeling. Ivy shivered with excitement—the taboo of it, fucking a mammal, a person, one of the despoilers. But she couldn’t think of Selina that way, couldn’t dominate her. Selina had always been a little like her—a little real, not like all the two-legged beasts that called themselves men. Even if Selina cared for cats—cats, of all things—instead of something as worthy and grand and needing as the forests, they still took the same side when the choice was between Man and Nature. Selina just didn’t see the choice as much. No matter. Ivy knew where she stood when the chips were done. She’d betrayed Wayne, hadn’t she? And now she was Ivy’s… Ivy’s tongue slipped into Selina like a root seeking nourishment, finding the best cunt she’d had in months. The anger and heartbreak Selina felt at Bruce—as much as she denied it, as much as she knew it was irrational, as much as she herself derided her own emotions—it was all flushed from her, destroyed by one of the many orgasms Ivy gave her. Until finally, one of her banging fists managed to break through the window panes of the greenhouse. The wind whistled in. “Now look what you’ve done.” But, much like with Harley, Ivy couldn’t stay angry for long. Not even a whole minute. She smiled impishly at Selina. “Fix it. And check on the prisoner. Wouldn’t want his wives to catch him with another woman, would we?” Selina nodded, her pride grating against following Ivy’s orders—anyone’s, really—but giving in. She thought of this happening again. Again and again and again. ***xxx “I hope you enjoyed yourself,” Bruce said when she returned. He was still locked up tight. Selina got a glass of water for him. “What makes you think I’m enjoying any of this? Working with a nitwit clown and a psychotic ecoterrorist? It’s shameful what a simple working girl’s reduced to these days…” “Your suit’s unzipped.” Selina looked down to see most of her cleavage and all of her stomach. Hurriedly, she tugged the zipper up. Shit, undressed like that, she looked like some ridiculous male fantasy, like that cat burglar skank who always threw herself at Spider-Man in the funny pages. Ridiculous adolescent wet dreams. She brought Bruce the water, resisting the urge to throw it in his face. “Well, I guess you’d be the expert on two women at once. Right, Mr. Prince?” “That’s not her last name. Diana doesn’t really have a last name. Well, Wayne… if she’s in a good mood.” Selina shoved the water down his throat, forcing him to swallow or have it spill down his suit. “Oh, I’ve amused you. I’ve finally managed it, now that we’ve split up.” Bruce gulped the last of his drink. “I wasn’t being facetious. I really am happy for you. It would never work between us. You’re a criminal. I’m… not. But with someone who shares your outlook on life…” “Ivy doesn’t share a thing with me except a bra size.” Bruce cocked his head to the side. “Shame. If you were together, you’d probably be good for her. Show her not everyone’s so bad. That she doesn’t have to give up on humanity.” “She has Harley for that.” “Harley? The Joker’s girl, the most unattainable woman in Gotham? You don’t think Ivy’s setting herself up to be hurt? To have her fear of mankind proved right again and again?” Selina sprung to Ivy’s defense like that wasn’t the weirdest sentence her vocabulary could construct. “She loves Harley.” “And Harley loves her. That doesn’t make it a balanced relationship. A good relationship should have control. Someone to right the ship, even if that job shifts back and forth. Harley and Ivy don’t have that. Usually, I’d say that means they should both find someone else. But the way they are—there is no one else for them. They love each other. It’s a twisted fairy tale, but it’s theirs. Maybe if they had someone else; a third person to give the relationship what the other two can’t…” Selina crossed her arms. “You picked a wonderful time to get good at relationships.” “I’ve raised four boys and I’m married to Wonder Woman. You pick up a little good advice.” Bruce met her eyes. It’d been hard, before, for both of them. “I’m sorry I hurt you. Can’t we get past this? Not in some crisis where we have to work together, but now, when it’s just us, and there aren’t any stakes?” “Sure. One thing first.” Selina punched him. “Okay. Now I’m over it.” Bruce tasted blood. “I’ll be too, once I regain consciousness.” “And I am not letting you go.” “Wouldn’t respect you if you did.” “Stay put. I’m finding Ivy.” Bruce watched her go, a new swing in her hip. “Can I use the bathroom first?” *** The reason they’d kept Bruce in the rooftop greenhouse was that inside the abandoned tenement where they’d hidden their lair, the place was festooned with Harley’s attempts at decoration. It looked like a child’s birthday party. Balloons, streamers, paper doll chains… Selina was surprised Ivy put up with it. She’d only allowed it because Harley had promised to clean the litter box for Selina; a big ask when you had ten cats. Selina might not like Harley being a professional doormat on feminist grounds, but it was great for the housekeeping. Selina headed down into the ‘foyer,’ where a combination of Ivy’s plants and Harley’s hammer—with some small, ‘controlled’ explosives—had turned a dozen apartments into one wide-open space. For parties, Harley said. But Selina couldn’t find a trace of either woman. Aside from the drone of the AC and the creaking of some damaged pipes, there was nothing. Selina trained her ears, summoning up the Armless Master’s teachings. Past the muck of everyday sound, she gleamed a moist, sucking noise. It was coming from one of the cubicle-like apartments they’d left standing like walk-in closets. Ivy was intrigued, but hesitant. She adjusted her zipper as she walked toward it. Ivy didn’t hear her coming. Her ears were muffled by Harley’s trim thighs. Harley didn’t hear her coming. The smack of her lips against Ivy’s crotch was too loud. Selina got the door open, carefully, slowly, working it so the hinges didn’t even think of squeaking. She knew what to expect, but wasn’t quite prepared for the sinuous animal she found, the two-headed creature with Harley’s muscular back on top, stretching and straining, and Ivy’s gently curling red hair growing down between her legs. It registered for her; they weren’t just eating out or fingering. It came after sixty-eight and before seventy… Leaning against the doorway, very comfortable with her zipper between her breasts, Selina let all the little facets of the scene engrave themselves on her mind. The headboard of bars she could see through, their shadows cutting across the two bodies as darkly as the scratches of their fingernails. Harley’s pert ass tensing as she worked her pussy down onto Ivy’s face, Ivy submissively meeting the sway of Harley’s cunt with a fresh kiss every time, their limbs entwined with naked bodies, their flesh running together like paint—Ivy’s green skin turning red with Harley’s bites and clenched fingers, Harley’s white greasepaint running as Ivy’s sweaty arms and legs ran over her. Harley undulated up from Ivy’s sex, rising on outstretched arms to loom over Ivy’s lower half like it was a fresh kill. Selina saw the back of her head. There were leaves scattered in her pigtails. “That’s it, Red, make me come! Eat it, you little bitch, eat it, eat it!” Selina could see her cunt kissing Ivy’s face, bubbling like a spring as Ivy gulped it down, moaning with the ecstasy of having Harley down her throat. “You always act like it’s such a big inconvenience havin’ me around, but who makes you come like I do!? Me! That’s who!” Gritting her teeth, head craned back, she pressed her sex down against Ivy’s cheek, coming all over her face even as she slapped Ivy’s cunt, the redhead panting, moaning louder, coming as Harley rubbed mercilessly at her clit, as if Harley’s juices had flowed right through her, returned to the clown. As if they shared not just an orgasm, but the liquid of it. They writhed together, slowly, fitfully draining. Selina saw her chance to tiptoe away as they clung together in abandoned bliss. She watched it go. And, instead, pulled her zipper down to her belly button. Took out her whip. Looped it around the back of her neck so she was holding onto the handle and the tail like they were two ends of a scarf. She knew the picture she struck. She stole into their little love nest and presented it to them. “Well. Ivy. Harley. Guess now we know who’s on top.” Harley had been licking up what was left of Ivy’s orgasm from between her legs, mercilessly extending the intensity of her cum into its doldrums. Hearing Selina, she lifted her head like a wolf from a carcass, chin dripping, eyes keen. “I’d say it’s always the quiet ones,” Selina continued, swinging her hips as she rounded the bed, “but Harley so doesn’t qualify.” Ivy eyed Selina’s ass as the cat burglar passed her again, seeing her upside-down through the frame of Harley’s thighs. Selina kept her back to Ivy, looking over her shoulder at her. Letting her stare. “But Ivy! All this time you’ve been a sub and yet you’ve never asked after your friend, the dominatrix’s, services? I’m hurt. If I can get a rise out of Batman, aren’t you curious what I might do to you?” She certainly was. Her eyes kept rolling over the twin helping of nudity, Ivy’s generous breasts, Harley’s tight ass. Harley reared up again, into a kneel over Ivy’s face. She eyed Selina proudly, her modest breasts on display as much as her solemn eyes. Sometimes, she let people see through the Mistah J act. “You want in, Seliners? No looky-loos here.” “Oh. I want in.” Selina shrugged her catsuit off her shoulders. Letting Harley see the little love bites Ivy had put on her breasts. “And I want you in me.” “Good. I’ve been thinking of fucking you with your own whip since you wore purple.” Harley’s voice wasn’t as enthusiastic as you’d think, though. It was low. Dangerous. “You hurt Ivy, though, and we’ll sees how many ways there are to skin a cat. Caprice?” “Capiche,” Selina replied, pronouncing it correctly. “Let’s seal it with a kiss,” Harley suggested. She bopped Ivy on the head. Ivy kissed her cunt. “Oh, momma!” Selina raked her suit down her hips, bending over to get it over her ass. Harley looked significantly between her thighs. “So,” she asked, her voice returning to its high pitch, “d’ya fuck Brucie? I’ve always wanted to taste a pussy…” She paused for laughter that didn’t come, “after it’s had a little creamer added. I’d find out from Ivy, but she’s really not much for menfolk. Who can blame her, with me around?” Ivy pacified her lover with a slow lick over Harley, ending with a look at Selina through the nickel bars of the bed’s Clara headboard. “You didn’t answer me before, kitty. Ever eaten out?” Naked, Selina leaned against the headboard, pressing her breasts through the nickel bars. Harley’s eyes grew wide; she almost leaned forward to bite at them. “Like I said, it was a long time ago. Some kiss-kiss, no bang-bang.” She smiled with her customary sardonicism. “Maybe I won’t like it.” “Only one way to find out,” Harley replied, reaching down to pat Ivy’s thigh. “If you don’t like Ivy’s puss, you might as well turn in your tongue.” Selina rounded the bed again, hand dangling at her side to run over the sweat-soaked duvet as she came to the foot of the bed. Wheeled on them. Got on the mattress. All fours. Crawled over the wrinkled sheets. Over Ivy’s legs. First the muscles of her calves, then the magnificent curvature of her thighs. She laid a hand down above Ivy’s knee, putting her weight on the firm flesh as she kept slowly traipsing forward. “I hope you won’t feel too neglected, Harl,” Ivy said to her rival—the other mistress setting up shop in their little world. “I’m a slow learner. I think I’ll need plenty of practice.” Ivy’s pussy twitched in anticipation. Harley played it cool for once, walking backward on her knees off Ivy’s face, reclining against the headboard. Reaching down to rub at herself. “Be as slow as you like. You can always take a page from my book and sleep with the professor.” Selina leaned in to Ivy’s widespread thighs. “I’m more interested in the student body at the moment…” The next moment, Ivy closed her eyes. “I don’t think we have to worry about her not liking it.” *** Upstairs, Wonder Woman had just pulled away Bruce’s restrains. With him unencumbered, Zatanna cast a spell to instantly dress him in his Batman costume. Bruce would never get used to that. “Sorry it took so long to find you,” Zatanna said. “Gotham has some bad mystical juju cluttering up the astral plane. I really should get on that…” “Later,” Diana said. “After we teach the Three Stooges a lesson.” “I don’t think so,” Bruce said, checking the helmet-cam in his cowl. Despite the magic, it was functioning perfectly. He started a feed to Oracle’s computers. “What?” Diana asked. “Did I get the pop culture reference wrong?” “No, that was a good reference,” Zatanna assured her. “I’ve seen them hit each other with hammers.” “I’m saying it won’t be necessary,” Bruce said. “I have a plan.” *** Selina licked Ivy like she’d been eating pussy all her life, sucked on her like she’d never had anything so sweet. Harley was only torn away from the sight by that of Selina’s ass bobbing in the air as she squirmed about on her knees, head buried in Ivy’s crotch like a cat drinking milk. But Ivy was the one that purred. “I love it… you’re so good…” Ivy arched her back as Selina’s tongue flared up her sex, her thighs closing softly around Selina’s busy mouth, her full belly heaving up. Ivy twisted like a cat to kiss Harley’s leg, stretched out nearby, then looked down the arched bridge of her belly at Selina, the Catwoman staring up at her from behind the gentle roll of Ivy’s belly and groin. They gazed into each other’s eyes, eyelids narrowing, opening wide as they enjoyed what was happening, were shocked by just how much. To Ivy, Selina was so loving, so passionate. Flings with Harley were never unsatisfactory, but often heated, rushed, angry if not dangerous. With Selina it felt slow and steady, though her body still threatened to get away from her, run a million miles an hour in her pleasure. She would’ve liked to try it the other way; first with Selina, gentle and warm, then letting Harley take her hard and fast. Then again, she couldn’t quite imagine Selina’s tongue going any faster than it was now, delving and dipping as far into her slippery nethers as it could, setting up a steady flood of juices that Selina’s ruby lips endlessly sucked. “I never thought it’d be so hard not to come too soon,” Ivy said in a husky voice. She saw Selina’s eyes enticed at the prospect of a long, leisurely feasting. Harley fingered herself even faster than she had been, gritting her teeth at the thought of having to wait to wrap her legs around that messy pixie cut of Selina’s, or have Ivy’s sweet lips clamped to her pussy again. Then she noticed Ivy’s head was turned, her eyes drawn to the rough schlick of Harley’s fingers in and out of her sex. It made Harley think of joining in. The wonderful thing about a threesome was that she could taunt and tease Ivy, playing with their other lover, coming back, leaving again. While they were linked together, she could wander, rove, be a joker in the deck. Shuffling off the bed, Harley bounced down to its footboard. Selina was still on her knees, bent over Ivy, making her juicy ass the highest point on her body. It wasn’t as voluptuous as Ivy’s, or as trim as Harley’s, just a nice, ripe ass that fit lovingly into leather and even better into a set of lace panties. Harley stared at it like she was hypnotized, her head swaying as she followed its wagging swing. Then she snapped out of it, giving that ass a nice crack of her hand. It jiggled just a little, the amount of salt there was on a good steak. “Buckle up, bitcho! Your booty is now an all-you-can-eat buffet!” Selina growled inside Ivy’s thighs, unwilling to part from that lick and suck. Then Harley dove in, licking her from the very bottom of her pussy to the top of her ass, and Selina gasped into Ivy’s cunt, Ivy grabbing the rails of the headboard. Harley gave Selina’s tailbone a little kiss, smug at the pleasurable devastation she’d wracked. “Spread ‘em, kitty.” Too aroused to argue, Selina reached back, grabbed either of her taut buttocks, and spread them apart. Harley licked her asshole, as always thrilled by the depravity of what she was doing—cheating on Mistah J. And Ivy never let her fuck her ass; too masculine for her. But Selina… she was someone brand new for Harley to corrupt. She pushed her tongue right into the tight hole and got started. “Fuck, fuck,” Selina gritted out, something in her voice crying out for mercy, too overcome to even nip at Ivy’s pussy while Harley was tongue-fucking her ass. Then, with a brisk kiss to her left cheek, Harley slid down to suck her pussy. She came instantly, her profane words running together to become a long, drawn-out moan. Harley loved Selina’s taste, even if it was different from Ivy’s. She wondered if it tasted that way because Batman was shooting it into her. Maybe she was drinking Batman’s cum. She started touching herself again, thinking of it. She’d always wanted to cheat on Joker with one of the Bats, but no matter how hard she tried to kill them, they never took her up on it. But Catwoman, she was practically a Bat, an Honorary Bat, she worked with them often enough. After thinking that, Harley had to use both hands. *** “Jesus,” Barbara said as the feed from Batman’s cowl-cam was uploaded into her systems, instantly encrypted and copied to twenty hardened back-up sites around the world (and in space, and on the JLA’s moonbase, and on Rann…) Maybe she should give Dinah a call… Or Dick. Or both. *** Even getting tongued in both holes couldn’t tempt Selina away from Ivy’s snatch for long. She sucked hard on Ivy’s clit, using her fingers as well, ramming them to Ivy’s core as Harley did much the same with her tongue. Then Selina heard, felt Harley moaning around her clit. She flashed with fire, realizing Harley was coming herself. Selina may not have bedded Batgirl like Ivy had—pheromones or not—but dating Batman, she was familiar with the need for self-pleasure. She curled her fingers inside Ivy, easily finding her G-spot and rubbing it furiously as she sucked her clit, felt her own explode, becoming a wild woman, wanting only to come, for Ivy to come with her, even for Harley too. In one unbroken chain that wrapped around and around again, the three women came wetly, experienced lovers teaching Selina how to suck and be sucked, Selina picking it up fast. It wasn’t long before Ivy thought of a way to top from the bottom. Her vines sniffed into the room—trying to tell her something about Wayne, but she could hardly be bothered. One went to her lips. She slurped it, feeling the phantom pleasure of her own tongue trickling around the tip. The other vine went to Harley. It was soon joined by another. The three women grunted and groaned and screamed and finally whimpered, moaned, sighed, as the dozen vines that had joined them slid away, the sheets ruined by the greasepaint that had slicked off Harley like an oilspill, Ivy’s hair a mess, Selina’s ass glowing red from Harley’s loving smacks. All three were delighted, excited. Harley bounded up like she hadn’t spent the better part of an hour being violated by plantlife, walking across the bed and dragging Selina with her to force the two of them into Ivy’s arms, where the green girl submitted to holding them both as she knew Harley liked, and Selina submitted to being held. For once. It felt pretty nice, actually. “Holy crapola,” Harley muttered finally. “Wish we’d set up a video camera. That deserves an instant replay…” “I’d be happy to help,” Batman said as he shifted out of the shadows. The Sirens were instantly on the defensive, but naked and caught unawares, they knew there wasn’t much to be done against a well-prepared Batman. Selina held the other two back, whispering to Ivy that he’d probably already set pesticide bombs throughout the building. Booby-trapped her costume and whip too, if she made play for them. And as fun as it might be to watch a naked Harley try to beat the Bat, the fact that he hadn’t opened with a smoke-bomb told her he maybe wanted to negotiate. Moving slowly, carefully, Ivy summoned her vines, only having them move over her and her lovers, covering them with fronds. Batman’s stare changed not one iota, seeing their nudity hidden. He held up his left arm, activating the console in his gauntlet. A holographic display flashed out part of the recording he’d just made. “Does my ass really look like that?” Harley asked. “When it’s got one of my little friends in it,” Ivy replied. Batman turned off the playback. “The push of a button and that can be on the hard drive of every Lexcorp product on the market. Excepting the ones registered to children, of course.” “All that just to make us come quietly, Bats?” Selina asked. “I just saw how hard it is for you to come quietly,” he replied. “But this little kidnapping of yours was amateurish and embarrassing—more an inconvenience than anything else. Insurance will have to pay for the mall, Mr. Wayne will need therapy, and resources that otherwise could’ve saved lives have gone into stopping the three of you from getting your kicks. So here’s a one-time offer. Go. Leave Gotham. Ivy, you did it before. Went into hermitage on a deserted tropical island…” Ivy remembered; not fondly. “And they firebombed it!” “So try again,” Batman said. “Take the clown and the cat with you. You three don’t seem to have a problem enjoying each other’s company. Pretend it’s a pardon; live in peace, stay out of trouble, and this video will never see the light of day.” “How do we know we can trust you?” Harley demanded. Batman glared at Selina. “You know how I am about secrets.” Selina rolled her eyes. “It’s a good deal. We should take it.” “Just turn our backs on ecological devastation?” Ivy asked shrilly. While Harley looked on the verge of tears. “Never see Mistah J again?” Ivy nodded her head to the side, as if to say ‘there is that’. “Clock is ticking, ladies.” Batman put his hand on a console button. In reality, all it did was turn on the Batmobile’s car alarm, but they didn’t know that. “What’s it going to be?” “We’ll need room and board,” Selina said. “You must be pretty loaded to keep yourself in Batarangs. Ten thousand dollars a month and you’ll never hear from us again.” “If I started paying people not to commit crimes…” “Like we don’t cause more damage than that in a week,” Harley retorted, liking the sound of this. “And we’ll let you keep the video,” Ivy said. “We might even send you a new one,” Harley said before Selina slapped her upside the head. “Ten thousand a month,” Batman agreed. “And wherever you go, you don’t get so much as a parking ticket.” Ivy nodded, considering it. “I could update my blog more regularly. I think I’m really getting through to people on how fragile the ecosystem really is.” “I could buy pizzas for every meal,” Harley said. “And I could fuck you.” Behind the fronds, Selina did something with her hands that made both women gasp. “Every day. Every hour. As much as you like.” She met Bruce’s eyes. “Someone would have to be crazy to pass up a deal like that.” “I’m in!” Ivy said. “She’s in!” Harley added, her frantic nod referring to the offer, not so much her words. “I’ll have my people contact your people,” Selina said. “And now, a little privacy, if you don’t mind?” A whipping of his cape and Batman was gone. “And Batman?” Selina called, the other women beginning to hide her under their bodies. The darkness seemed to wait expectantly. “Send Brucie my love.” *** As the sun came up, Bruce stood on the tarmac outside Gotham International Airport, watching the private jet the three women had chartered take off. Beside him, Zatanna and Wonder Woman sat on the hood of the Batmobile. “You should’ve let me thrash them,” Diana said. “It sends a bad message to let the perpetrators of an offense against the mate of an Amazon go unanswered. Goes against the Amazon Way.” “And resolving a hostile situation non-violently?” Batman asked quizzically. “With hot sex?” Zatanna added. “The Amazon Way is malleable. Poor Brucie, though. Missed out on a whole night of crimefighting with his favorite wives.” “We stopped Two-Face from robbing a shipment of twenty-dollar bills,” Zatanna reported. “You would’ve loved it.” “Please don’t call me Brucie.” “Can we go home now, please?” Diana asked. “I want to forget all about Brucie’s psycho exes.” “I only dated Selina.” “And Ivy for, like, five minutes,” Zatanna put in. She got a look from Bruce. “Sorry, I talk to demons about all my boyfriends’ dating history. It’s better to know than to wonder.” Batman accepted it with a shrug. “Well, we do have a sex tape.” “Holy shit, you and the green Christina Hendricks!?” “I never said I was in it.” Batman tapped his wrist-console. “Wait, we can’t watch that.” Zatanna glanced at Diana. “I mean, it is kinda private, right?” “He’s paying ten thousand a month for it.” “I’m paying ten thousand a month for it.” Zatanna rubbed her thighs together. “You’d better have a TV in one of your bedrooms…”