Epilogue: The Masked Fucker vs. Harley Quinn

The intruder danced past the laser tripwires. Vaulted over the pressure-sensitive floorplate. Smashed the glass display case with a Louisville slugger wrapped in barb wire. Grabbed the diamonds and was out the window, even as the alarms were going off...

Lois Lane watched the security footage.

"This is the third robbery this week," she said, to no one in particular. Her eyes were focused on the pert ass tucked into those tight bootyshorts, the long athletic legs, that lopsided grin. "Someone needs to stop Harley Quinn."

The Clown Princess of Crime had sputtered into Metropolis on fumes. The heat was on in Gotham, there was a price on her head in Bludhaven, and she was on the outs with her girlfriend. When it came to quick cash, Quinn knew gems were where it was at. Easy to lift, easy to move; a million dollars in hundred dollar bills was seventy pounds, but a million bucks in diamonds and emeralds could fit in a pocket. Even the itty-bitty pockets in her short-shorts.

"And the best part is, it's all insured." Harley chuckled to herself as she lowered the newspaper to eye her next target. On the front page, Lois Lane's column about the terrible villain that was spreading lawlessness in their fair city.

The target was the Metropolis Diamond Exchange. Most of which was covered industrial diamonds, not actual gems. But in the back...Harley made a note as a guard came out, timing their routes...in the back was where the blood diamonds from West Africa came in, under the table. Few people would dare rip off international arms dealers, but Harley Quinn didn't give a fuck...and she saw, in the alley, where and how she was going to get in and out. Utterly unaware of the eyes that were watching her from nearby.

Two hours after midnight, the quite streets of Metropolis resounded with the muffled cracks of automatic weapons. Smoke poured from the Diamond Exchange. Men rushed out of the building, shouting, crying, one of them still wiping a cream pie from his face, holding an Uzi tight against his body.

In the alley, a vent opened. The lithe, athletic villainous oophed and umphed her way out, dragging a sack of booty behind her. The vent was two stories above the ground, and Harley was just unwinding her spool of monofilament line...when something bit her in the ass. She looked down, suddenly light-headed, and saw a flechette sticking out from beneath her booty shorts.

"Oh...crapbaskets," she said as she fell.

The villain awoke on her stomach...but not in an alley.

She was laying on a mattress, on an old-fashioned iron bedframe. That was good.

She was naked. That was...less good.

Harley raised her head, and felt her panties stuffed into her mouth and tied there with a gag. Her wrists and ankles clanked, securely cuffed to the iron bedframe. That was really not good.

Someone came into view. Harley turned her head, pigtails flailing, blue eyes widening. It was a woman...naked except for the black mask that covered her entire face...and there was a hard cock jutting out at her crotch, where the pussy should have been. In one hand, she held Harley's sack of stolen diamonds. In the other, she held what looked like an airgun.

"Mmmrh!" Harley said, suddenly straining at her bonds. Even woozy as she was, if she could just dislocate a thumb, she could probably slip the cuffs...then pain shot through both of her ankles.

The dickgirl sat on the bed next to the bound villain.

"You sprained both of them pretty badly when you hit the ground. I'm afraid you'll need to heal up. Complete bedrest."

The voice was distorted, digitized by some device in the mask. Harley began to shake. She had heard rumors of the Masked Fucker...

"Your diamonds," the masked dickgirl held up the sack with Harley's booty. She laid them down on the bed next to Harley's head. "I was quite impressed, watching you shimmy out of that tight little vent. You're quite athletic. But I don't think you'd be able to do that kind of crime with a big baby belly, would you?"

Harley started to twist. Even knowing what was coming, she still didn't want to believe it.

Lois moved, sliding one leg over and then the other. Letting her hard cock rest on the crack of Harley's pale ass. An Olympic-level athlete...Lois had never felt buttocks so hard and toned.

"The problem with Batman is that he would just send you back to Arkham Asylum." The Masked Fucker said. "But I've been watching you, Harleen. I don't think you're really bad. You just need...focus. Motherhood would give you something else to think about, besides crime."

Hands wandered over the bound villain's body. Harley bucked, shouting into her gag, ignoring the pain in her ankles. Lois let her hands explore each scar, massage the tense muscles of those shoulders, then down the spine, hands working relentlessly, cock stuffed between those cheeks.

"The men you stole from...they're looking for you, Harleen," Lois said. "This is a safehouse. No one knows you're here but me. A nice place to rest...recuperate...copulate...mate..." A strand of precum oozed onto the villain's lower back. "But I'm going to give you a choice. You can let me fuck you...or I can leave you here, and call the police to come get you. What would you rather have? A hard cock or hard time?"

Harley Quinn did the math...and relaxed. She was injured, and in a compromised position. The smart move was to cooperate, at least until she could get this Masked Fucker off-guard.

Besides, it had been a while since she'd been fucked, and as much as she loved Pam, every now and then she did miss the feel of a real dick up inside of her. Besides, she was on birth control, and Ivy could give her a shot against any STD known to man, so...

Quinn turned her head...and nodded, once.

"Good. Don't worry. I'm not out to hurt you. Just one more thing."

Lois reached pressed the barrel of the gun against Harley's ass and pulled the trigger. The villain screamed into her gag as the flechette sank into her ass.

"Don't worry. A little gadget Toyman made for me. Just some fertility ****, and a little something to negate any hormonal birth control you might have. I know you don't have an IUD or birth control implant."

Quinn glared at the Masked Fucker...then shook her head, sullen and tense.

"Good! We do want you to catch, after all."

The bound villain turned her head to stare through the bars of the iron-bedstead. She wanted this to be over. A part of her, perhaps, wanted the Masked Fucker to be quick and ruthless, to fuck her without foreplay, dump her load and leave...just like Mister Jay...

It was not to be.

Lois Lane slid her cock down until it was positioned just at the entrance to Harley's cunny, the labia wrapped around the swollen purple head. The Masked Fucker's hands slid around and under Harley. One seized on her breast, bigger and fuller than the vigilante's own modest B-cup. The other groped around between Harley's legs, searching for her clit...and found it. The villain bit into the panties gagging her mouth, hating her body as the soft finger began circling her clit, while the fingers pinched and pulled at her hardening nipple. The Clown Princess of Crime began thinking she had to take control of the situation...maybe thrust her ass back, impale herself on that cock, just so that she wouldn't be tortured with foreplay...

The Masked Fucker's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Why so serious?"

The hand on her tip moved down and around...and Harley's eyes went wide.

No. There's no way. She couldn't know. Harley thought.

"Coochie coochie coo..." the fingers played around her ribs. Harley shook. Her toes curled. She tried to hold it in...and then she felt the gag loosen, as the Masked Fucker pulled her fingers out of her mouth. The bound villain sucked in air...and Lois redoubled her attack, fingers scratching softly on both sides of Harley's ribcage.

The laugh **** its way out of her. Just as it always did. Not for the first time, she damned herself for being so ticklish. The fingers slid over her ribs, down to her belly.

"I'm really jealous of these abs," Lois said. "Not that you'll be able to see them in a few months."

Harley had some choice words for that...which all disappeared as the Masked Fucker finally lived up to her name, plunging her cock forward. It had been a long time for Harley, and her cunt was hot, wet, and tight...and she writhed in her cuffs as Lois Lane's fingers ran over her abs, her ribs, up to her sweaty shaven armpits, over her bare heels. The villain laughed until her abs hurt, and she was gasping for breath...and then Lois turned her attention back to the villain's clit and nipples, and Harley realized she was panting in heat, her ass sore from the too flechettes, her sprained ankles throbbing and swelling, but what she was mostly feeling was the plunging prick that was poking deep inside her pussy. Almost beside herself she began to hump back, squeezing the dick as it slid out of her, biting her lip as the Masked Fucker attacked her clit, groped her breasts, brought her hand up to grab her neck and **** her, never for long, just for a few moments, just so that the villain's heart raced and her cunt tightened.

It went on for too long. Olympic-level athlete that Harley Quinn was, her sexual stamina was not unlimited. There came a time when she could feel the climax rising in her body, and fight it as she was, the endless **** was more than she could bear. With a whine, the bound villain came on that fat cock, her toes curling, fists clenching white knuckled in their handcuffs, pussy clamping tight as a slow explosion seemed to emanate from her cunt and work its way through her whole body, until the bleached-blonde villain was left gasping and light-headed, shaking with the intensity of the orgasm...and Lois Lane fucked her through it all without let-up, sweat dripping down her body, nipples hard.

Her hands grabbed Harley's ass and the villain screamed as blood beaded up at the sites of the twin flechette wounds. The once-pale ass looked swollen and purplish as Lois kneaded and smacked it with her hands. The reporter thrust harder, her cock pounding deeper, stretching the pale shaven cunt wider, and Harley sensed the change that had come over the Masked Fucker as she geared up for her own orgasm...and ejaculation.

The cock stayed deep. No joked now, no foreplay. Harley was wet and dripping, her body hot, pain and pleasure mixed together. It was inevitable, but that didn't mean she had to like it...but dizzy and woozy as she was in the aftermath of her climax, the villain couldn't even work up the anger for mean words. Her heart fluttered, her stomach felt sick. The realization sunk in that if the Masked Fucker's little cocktail did what she said was going to do...

Harley Quinn was going to get knocked up.

And God help me, that is SO fucking hot, the villain admitted to herself.

The end came when Lois collapsed on top of the bound villain, forcing Harley into the mattress. Her cock was almost entirely buried in the villain's cunt, and Lois was humping her lick a dog with short, swift strokes, her chin resting on Harley's shoulder, all of her weight plunging down on the bound woman beneath her...and then it stabbed forward and Harley's eyes opened just a bit wider.

She could feel it. Actually feel it, like a spray of birdshit against her womb. In her whole life, she'd never felt anyone cum inside her; even Mr. Jay's creampies had been a couple watery drops that she only felt when he wipe his dick against the inside of her thighs. This...this was **** and volume and a liquid heat that Harley could feel in her belly.

They laid like that for a while. Then the Masked Fucker pulled out. She took the gun, left the diamonds.

"I'll let that soak in. You're going to be here for a little while...we'll do it again when you're ready tomorrow."

Harley didn't hear the words. She was already asleep.

Outside, Poison Ivy was waiting. The Masked Fucker had put on a trench coat, fedora, and heels before leaving.

"Your shots worked," the vigilante observed.

"Of course they did," Ivy said. "I know her biochemistry better than she does. She should be ovulating already. Fuck her right through the middle of her cycle..."

The redhead looked at the sky. Lois reached out and gripped her shoulder.

"You did the right thing, Pamela. Harleen needs something to focus on. Motherhood will be just the thing to pull her out of the villain game. She'll need you there, to help her."

"I hope you're right, Masked Fucker," Poison Ivy said. The redhead shot Lois a glance. "Why do you do it? Fuck criminals and villains? They say..."

Lois smiled behind her mask. She'd heard the rumors that had start to spread. That a criminal had **** her family. That she was a nun **** into prostitution who lost her baby. That she was another hero who developed a split personality after their wife left them at the altar. All of the stories ended "...and now, she fucks criminals for ****!"

"It's my calling," Lois said. "I'm not out for vengeance. There is no justice. Just us. Fucking."

Poison Ivy shook her head, not sure she understood...but she left Lois to it.

The reporter headed back inside. Harleen Quinzel was ovulating. Sometime in the next three days, she would be fertilized. The Masked Fucker was there to guarantee it.