Epilogue: Whatever Happened To Harley & Ivy?

It was midnight, the week before Christmas, and the Metropolis Aquarium was mostly empty. No security guards patrolled the grounds, no janitors swept between the tanks. Budget cuts had left late-night monitoring of the fishes and other forms of aquatic life to people working from home. Even the annual holiday celebration was being held over a video conference, where people would drink too much and say embarrassing things in the comfort of their own homes...

Which isn't to say that nary a creature was stirring.

The shark exhibit was one of the most popular attractions in the museum. There were six sharks in the great tank, deadly predators of the sea that swam about with easy grace in their open-top, two-stories-tall tank. Except the greenery that now enshrouded much of the tank and the viewing platform around it was not the usual festive Yuletide boughs and garlands. Thick vines now twined all about, climbing the walls and hanging from the ceiling.

Dangling from the stoutest of these liana's was a thin, wriggling young woman, in a long-sleeved white blouse and black pants, shoeless and sockless. Her blonde hair almost stirred the surface of the water. The vines wrapped around her ankles swayed as she wriggled, her hands bound behind her, a turnip lodged in her mouth, the green stem of which branched oddly, so that it tied itself around the back of her head, served to stifle her screams.

Below her, the sharks had begun to circle.

"Ain't aquariums so romantic?" Harley Quinn said with a sigh. The Clown Princess of Crime wore nothing more than black and red diamond pasties over her nipples and a checkered thong. Poison Ivy admired the taut curve of her lover's ass, the trim toned body which displayed no excess fat at all, the muscles rippling with each movement. Many people might imagine what it was like to make love to an Olympian...but Ivy knew.

The red headed villain herself wore a simple green one-piece, which was scarcely more revealing than her normal costume—not that Ivy had any more shame than Harley did. She was taller than Harley, older, and without that pixie maniac energy...perhaps a little softer and curvier than her girlfriend...but she had a grace of her own. In the bright lights above the shark tank, her veins looked almost green beneath her pale skin.

Ivy stretched forth her hand. A vine curled up to into it...and blossomed, a soft pink bloom. The redhead leaned in to breathe in the fragrance, even as all around the room, in response to her unspoken command, flowers blossomed and the warm air grew heavy with pollen.

Above the tank, the blonde sneezed.

Behind Ivy and Harley came a girlish giggle.

The brunette was tied to a wheelchair with a complex combination of rope, zipties, and ducktape. A young woman, one of those who were thin as sticks but began to fill out once they learned how to eat and take care of themselves. Harley had gone a little overboard with the bondage, her breasts pouting over coils of rope, eyes taped open, a knotted wool sock as the gag...not that Ivy minded in the least. The large nametag "Hi! My Name Is GINA!" pinned to the front of her blouse was in rather poor taste...but it brought a smile to Harley's face. That was, ultimately, all that mattered.

"Y'know," Harley said. "I was readin' up about these sharks, and they only feed 'em about once a week. Says its more like their natural diet or somethin'. Betcha yer girlfriend looks like bait on a hook right about now!"

If it was possible to grin through a gag, Gina did it. But she glared daggers at the two villains. This was obviously not entirely what she had in mind when she'd hired them to take her ****.

Over the water, the blonde wiggled. Ivy recalled her name was Marcie.

"What's the deal with these two anyway?" Harley asked, as she pulled at her thong, the thin material flossing her cheeks. "They hated rivals or somethin'? Some highschool drama shit?"

"Girlfriends, actually. I think they have a complicated relationship. The dark one has access to mommy's money. She wanted us to toy with blondie in response to some imagined slight."

"Ya do like blondes," Harley said. Ivy reached over and grabbed Harley's buttock and gave it a squeeze.

"You know I do. A part of me wants to string you right up alongside her...but, I have a better idea." Ivy turned, her green eyes focusing on Gina.

Vines slithered and crept up the seated woman's ankles. Wrapped around her bare legs. Slid up her skirt. Gina wiggled as she felt the wooden creepers silently slid behind her underwear, the crotch behind it plucked smooth and hairless...and then, with a twist of Ivy's fingers, small thorns grew out from the thin vines. They were sharp, but not enough to pierce Gina's flesh...and long as she didn't move.

"It's like this, Gina," Ivy said. "We are going to **** your girlfriend, just as you hired us to do. But we aren't going to let you get off on it. You shift your cute little cunny one inch, and those rose thorns will tear it to shreds. Of course, we'll be happy to let you go...in exchange for the account number and password to mommy's bank account."

"But Ives," Harley said. "What if she doesn't have it?"

"Then you get to do that thing I won't let you do to me with them," Ivy said. "Consider it an early Xmas present."

"What, you mean with the bowlin' pin?" Harley's grin turned into a leer. "Y'know, she's young. I think she'd heal up afterwards. Probably even walk again an everythin'."

"That's the one." Ivy turned toward Marcie, whose face had turned an alarming shade of red from hanging upside down so long. "In any event, let's start the show."

Harley wheeled Gina right to the edge of the tank...where a pair of fins had broken the surface of the water and begun to circle, the dark grey bodies underneath suddenly more active.

Ivy raised her hand, a vine coiled around it, a blossom in the palm of her hand...like a conductor beginning an orchestra.

At first, nothing seemed to happen. Then Gina's eyes saw new vines grow down the great green thread that was all that kept the blonde from falling into the shark tank. Green shoots that slid under her clothes, with bundles of sharp-pointed leaves in batches of three. Gina watched, fascinated, as Marcie began to twist and struggle. The brunette couldn't see all of what happened...only the movement beneath the blonde's clothes, the way her trousers and blouse shifted and puffed as the leaves blossomed and grew...

The snap of Ivy's fingers was like the crack of a bullet.

Marcie's clothes seemed to burst off of her. Gina's eyes went wide as the pieces of her outfit fluttered down to the waiting fins below, recognizing the delicious pale pink flesh within, the stiff pink nipples...and then the green vines wove and rewove themselves into a complicated series of knots, criss-crossing the hanging woman's naked body, the clusters of three sharp-pointed leaves almost demurely hiding nipples and cunny...but not enough to hide the way a knotted vine was laid directly across the puffy vulva.

A trickle of red oozed down from the cleft. Gina nearly sat up, but the points of the thorns reminded her why moving would be a bad idea...and then she remembered. It was Marcie's time of the month. The little crimson trickle made a contrast against the blonde's pale pink skin, the bright green of the vines.

"Ah, shibari!" Harley said, dancing up behind Ivy and hugging the woman from behind. "So you did read that book I got you!"

"Of course I did, Harls," Ivy said. Her green eyes were fixed on her victim. The vines began to contract, draw tighter about the writhing body, forcing Marcies' arms together behind her back, her legs together above and below the knee. The small breasts were squeezed out between ropes of bright green new growth that circled and contracted the pale globes, spiraling up to clutch at the blonde's nipples. Tears dripped from Marcie's eyes into the saltwater tank where the sharks continued to circle.

Gina couldn't tear her eyes away. Not even when Harley Quinn peeled the top of Ivy's bathing suit down, and began to leave lipstick-marks on her lover's neck, her own hands moving to gently tease Ivy's stiff, pale green nipples. The redhead craned her neck to the side, to let Harley's tongue slide up until the nearly naked clown could nibble on her ear...

Which is when the soft, pointed leaves began to caress the soles of Marcie's feet.

Below the blonde, the sharks snapped at the clothes that had fallen into the water. Marcie was bound so tight by the vines that it added an extra frisson of helplessness to her torment. She kept trying to sit up, her face beet red, the tips of her hair wet, toes clenching up in a futile bid to escape the feather-soft leaves that swept up and down. The blonde's ribs heaved as she tried to scream, to howl, to laugh, drool and turnip-juice dripping down from her mouth...

Breathless in her own chair, Gina stared. Unable to move as her own cunny throbbed in wanton, **** need. The menstrual blood from Marcie's thighs had formed a little stream down her body...like a vein of cinnabar in marble. The small, pale breasts quivered in the grip of the green vines, the soft leaves wrapped around Marcie's arms tickled her ribs...

...then the blood dripped into the water.

The sharks entered a frenzy. Their fins cut the water with agitation, the water splashing as they circled faster, one grey snout leaping out of the water, rows of white teeth bared. Gina tried to scream through her gag. The vine holding Marcie jerked upwards, and a heartbeat later the jaws moved through the space where the hanged woman's head had been.

"Oh what fun it is to rub and sing a slaying song tonight..." Harley sang out softly, as she peeled off what was left of Poison Ivy's bathing suit. The redhead stepped out of it, eyes still focused on her tableaux.

"Those aren't the lyrics, Harleen," Ivy said wryly.

Harley Quinn's fingers reached down between her girlfriend's thighs. Gina was torn between the ongoing sight of Marcie's **** and the sapphic display to her right.

"You sure about that red?" Harley said. "'Cause I want to jingle this bell all the way."

"Harleen!" Ivy said, exasperation in her tone...but then she gave a little soft moan, as the Clown Princess of Crime's fingertips found her clit. The pale-faced clown pressed her cheek against Ivy's naked back, her right hand upon that smooth stomach, the left hand rubbing Ivy's clit in slow circle. The mismatched eyes watched Gina, who was torn between what was happening to Marcie and what the villains were up to...and a knowing grin split Harley's face.

"Y'know...it's almost worse, bein' where you're at," Harley said. "Watchin', but not able to touch or be touched. I bet you're feelin' it now, aintcha? Ya want to squirm against those bonds, to thrash yourself like she's doin'...look! Look at her fuckin' pussy!"

Gina looked.

Marcie was still struggling in her bonds...but it was different this time. She wasn't trying to escape. Her thighs were trying to rub together. Her body jackknifed back and forth, causing her pussy to rub a little against the soft, strong vine knotted all the way along her labia. Gina could recognize that wild look in her lover's eyes, the **** need there...

"Give 'er a couple minutes, she might even get off. Too bad you can't join her," Harley gave a theatrical sigh. "Nope, you're stuck there, pussy one step away from bein' perforated like you humped a rose bush. Ain't nothin you can do but watch her get off..."

"Aah!" Ivy gave a little jump, her knees pressed together, squeezing Harley's fingers. Almost immediately, the root at Marcie's feet slackened, and she felt nearly a foot, her hair in the water.

Gina tried to scream, leaned forward...and then she did scream, as she felt a thorn damn near pierce her clitoral hood.

Harley disengaged with Ivy. The nearly-naked clown sauntered over. Her fingers, still musky with Ivy's pussy-juice, traced a tear on Gina's cheeks.

"How 'bout it? You ready to talk? 'Cause if not, I gotta tell you...I got a bowlin' pin with your name on it!"

Marcie's eyes met Gina's. Something passed between them, a silent communication, a pact, a promise...

It took three hours for Gina to crack. Her panties were stiff with blood and drenched with juice as she and Marcie staggered out to the waiting cab.

"You know, I was going to ask you to pierce your clit hood for me for Christmas, but I didn't think you'd actually do it," the blonde joked. "The hard way, I mean."

Furiously, Marcie scratched at her skin. Gina winced.

"Shouldn't do that," she said. "You'll get infected."

"What are you talking about?" Marcie asked.

"Those vines. 'Leaves of three, let it be' - you were wrapped up in poison ivy. You're going to itch like crazy for days. Weeks, maybe." The brunette gave a nasty smile, as if she enjoyed the idea.

Marcie stared at her dumbstruck. "But...that stuff was all over my nipples. My pussy. Oh...oh fuck...you cunt. I hope your mother disowns you!"

Gina chuckled. "The funny part is, that wasn't even my mom's bank account..."

In the aquarium, Harley and Ivy tossed some more fish to the sharks.

"They was nice," the clown said. "We should do this more often. Invite people over, I mean."

One of Ivy's vines popped the cork on the champagne.

"Harley?" The redhead said. "Thanks for breaking me out of jail."

"Anytime, Ives," Harley said. She leaned over and their lips met. Their eyes closed, tongues slowly slid out as though by mutual agreement. Met, twisted against one another.

One of the sharks thumped against the side of the tank. Without looking, Harley Quinn tossed the last of the fish into the tank. A sharp-tooth jaw caught it...and the last they saw of the sharks that night was a single solitary fin, beneath the dangling vine.

Marcie and Gina are characters belonging to Gambio. Used and abused with permission.