Chapter 14 by Zeebop

How does Harley Quinn respond?

Harley Wants Ivy To Cuckold Her

Harley Quinn looked away. Her hands were held behind her booty shorts. One toe played with the floor. Mismatched pigtails framed her face.

"You want me to cheat on you," Poison Ivy said. "With a lot of guys, and a woman?"

There was uncertainty in her voice.

"Y-yeah," Harley said. "Except, I kinda have this...whole scenario in my head..."

Poison Ivy took a deep breath. Straightened her shoulders. Her red hair fell to her shoulders. Her arms crossed beneath her breasts.

"It's your birthday. I'm listening."

Which is how, two hours later, Lois Lane found herself in a small room in the back of the club. The reporter was bound by vines against a wall, her legs spread uncomfortable wide, feet unable to touch the floor, arms hanging over her head. Below the reporter's exposed pussy, a hole had been cut in the wall.

Poison Ivy, on her knees, stared at the hole with a look of utter resignation.

This isn't happening, Lois thought. This is a nightmare. I just need to wake up...

Except Lois Lane knew she wasn't sleeping. She could hear Harley Quinn in the room on the other side of the wall, telling every criminal and goon in Metropolis to take off their pants and get hard.

Ivy sighed and looked up, to meet the reporter's eyes. The reporter tried to chew through the knotty vine that served as her gag, but it was solid as wood and as big as a pool ball.

"I love her. She's crazy, but I'm crazy about her. And it is her birthday," one green finger reached out tugged at the reporter's labia, to expose the pink. "We'll let you go, afterward. She just wants to see me blow a bunch of dudes and spit the jizz in your pussy. That can't take more than an hour or two, right? And I won't let her put in on the internet."

There were signs of activity behind the wall. Ivy squared her shoulders.

"Almost showtime. Did you want a little something? To help you through it, I mean." Ivy asked.

Lois Lane, helpless in her vegetative bondage, managed a shrug of her shoulders.

"All right," Ivy said. There was a knock against the wall, and the villain's gaze dropped back to the hole. "Showtime."

Then the first stiff prick slid through the gloryhole, right below the reporter's pussy.