End: Maybe If Lois Licks Her Ass...

"Y'know," Harley Quinn said with an exaggerated sigh. "I love Pam. Really, really, REALLY loves her. But sometimes...well, there's things she won't do. Like, she's always ready to go down on me. Doesn't have any problem playin' hide the zucchini. An' on special occasions, like when we do a big job or somethin', she'll let me break out the rubber chicken and the whoopee cushion and the joy buzzer..."

The Clown Princess of Crime was grinding her pale booty in the bound reporter's face. Her fingertips had found Lois Lane's clit, and was rubbing it in small circles. Perspiration broke out on the reporter's face as she tried, futilely, to expel the potato lodged in her pussy.

"But no matter how much I beg and plead, no matter how many hints I drop, even though I keep my Hershey highway so squeaky clean you could eat off of it, there's just some things she won't do," Harley said. Lois could just imagine the blonde, pigtailed villain with chin on palm, idly rubbing the reporter's clit. Like a cat playing with a mouse.

"Why, sometimes I think I'd do almost ANYTHIN' if somebody would just...ah, but I shouldn't bother you with me and Pammy's personal problems." Harley said, punctuating this statement with yet another theatrical sigh.

Lois Lane swallowed. She was staring at Harley Quinn's butthole. The pale starfish was white as greasepaint, like the rest of Harley, with only the barest hint of pink at the center of the creased divot. It didn't smell dirty...oh, there was a hint of sweat, but nothing that Lois would normally turn her nose up at. The reporter stared at the asshole with a sinking sensation of utter inevitability. This was her destiny.

"Harley?" Lois asked. "Would you like me to lick your ass?"

The villain gave a theatrical gasp. Lois frowned as she saw the anus flex, her body tensing suddenly as she waited for something to emerge...but nothing did.

"Would you?" Harley said. "Gee, hon, I'd be ever so grateful..."

"Yes, please," Lois said, forcing a smile onto her face that Harley couldn't see, doing her best to sound eager. "I'd love to. I haven't had a chance to eat any ass in months, and yours is the prettiest little poop shoot I've ever seen. If you could just loosen these straps...I can't quite reach."

The reporter was a grown woman, but she felt dirty talking like this. In truth, she'd never eaten ass. Yet if it would get her out of here, she'd stick her tongue as deep in Harley Quinn's colon as she could. "Weeeell...if you insist," Harley said as she shifted her foot. With a single toe, the strap holding the reporter's head down loosened, and the reporter could lift her head, bringing her mouth within striking distance of Harley Quinn's taint and asshole. Lois had just lifted her head to do just that when Harley's feet shifted, moving under the reporter's head and neck—and Lois gave a muffled scream as her face was **** into the pale woman's crack.

"That's right, spud-cunt!" Harley said. "Dig right in!"

Without any other options, Lois did. Her tongue slid out, exploring by touch Harley Quinn's anatomy. The tight, muscular cheeks made a sweaty trench, and the firm but flexible divot at the bottom of that trench was the reporter's target. The tip of her tongue traced the little creases of Harley's hole, surprised that she wasn't tasting anything nasty or disgusting—and so she pressed forward, feeling the little sphincter give, the heat increase...until it felt like her tongue was pushing into a little hole.

"Hmm, yeah..." Harley said. "Keep goin'..."

Lois Lane's neck ached as she pushed deeper. It was hot inside her ass, and her tongue was gripped by the muscular little tunnel. She could actually feel the shift from the outer skin to the softer, slicker integument inside Harley's ass. The reporter's head began to pound, her neck in a terrible position, and Harley was still playing with her clit, sending little shivers through the reporter's body, her other hand now pressing and pulling on the potato lodged in the reporter's cunny.

It was the most exquisite **** Lois had ever known—her body betraying her, anticipation rising and rising, even as the pain increased further and further as Harley's muscles clamped tighter and tighter.

The crack and pop as something gave in Lois Lane's neck was loud enough that even Harley heard it. The villain realized something was wrong when the reporter's tongue fell limp. In an instant the villain had athletically reorganized herself, the back of the reporter's head hitting the table with a dull thump.

"Oh shit," Harley said as her fingers found Lois Lane's throat. Her shoulders sagged with relief as she found the pulse she had been searching for. "Maybe just popped a vertebra or somethin'. I slipped a disc once an' I couldn't move for..."

"Harleen!" Poison Ivy's voice shouted from across the room. "What are you doing with my experimental subject!"

"Nothin'!" The pale woman said as she scrambled off the paralyzed reporter. Lois, for her part, could not move for the incomparable pain. Neither could she shut her ears as the lovers quarreled. What the rest of the night would hold, the reporter had no idea...but she did know that all hope of escape had ended with her french-kissing Harley Quinn's asshole.