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Chapter 7 by Zeebop Zeebop

What does Harley Quinn want of Lois Lane?

Double Anal & Double Vaginal Fisting

"She's been working toward it for a long time," Harley said, as she combed Lois Lane's hair. "Night after night, stretching her holes a little at a time. But it's more than she can do herself, and more than I can give her. We really just need another set of hands."

The roof of the warehouse was a kind of greenhouse-cum-boudoir. Warm enough even at night that the naked reporter was utterly uncomfortable in her own skin. Irises dilated, utterly stoned on the THC-laced sap that oozed from Poison Ivy's breasts. The bed was a great slab of soft, clean moss.

"But like...why?" Lois managed, her insatiable curiosity stronger even than Ivy's control.

"Because she doesn't need to keep her pussy or ass tight for some man," the redhead said, with just a hint of venom. "And ever since she left the Joker, I want her to...have something good in her life. Check those items off her sexual bucket list that he never could. Make some positive memories."

Lois nodded dimly. Her eyes wandered from plant to plant. There were potted trees with oddly fascinating bark patterns, elephant-eared green plants, snaking vines, delicate jungle flowers that were closed now. The reporter closed her eyes and breathed deep of those strange, narcotic scents. She couldn't even hear the traffic on the streets up here. With her eyes closed, she could be in some distant jungle, the concubine of some tropical queen.

"I mean...why me?" Lois managed. "If you're been...**** women..."

"Those are minions," Ivy said. "And really, they're more like graduate assistants who occasionally assist with bank robberies. I have them in the labs downstairs, refining some botanicals. And to be honest...although she would never admit it, Harley likes the good girls. I was trying to think about how to get Batwoman under my thrall, but then you wandered in."

"Hey Pammy, I'm home!" A nasal New Jersey accent called out.

Lois blinked, slowly. Her eyes had adjusted to the moonlight that streamed in through the glass ceiling...and a pale figure wandered in through the plants. It shed clothes, more of that delicious skin bare. Slim, athletic, the pigtails miscolored, the labia shaved bare. She paused near the edge of the bed, her eyes wide.

"I...Ives?" Harley Quinn paused as she saw the two naked figures in the bed. "What is this?"

"Hey Harls," Poison Ivy said, and her hands cupped the reporter's breasts from behind. "Happy birthday. Ready to have your holes stretched?"

Is Harley ready, or does she need a warm-up first?

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