Jimmy Olsen

Brianna's arrival in Metropolis hit like a punchline from the shadows of Gotham, her leash still warm from Joker's grip as the convoy pulled up to the penthouse. The once-Batman, now a broken shell in her spade-emblazoned catsuit, knelt at Olivia's feet the moment she stepped out, lips brushing the Mistress's boots in **** submission. 'Welcome to the big top, Batsy,' Joker crowed from the balcony, his grin splitting wide as he tossed down a duffel of fresh outfits. Olivia, her addiction to his cock sharpening her edge, nodded approval—Brianna's dark eyes flicked up, pussy clenching at the promise of chaos under new command.

Joker wasted no time remaking them for the hunt. In the suite's walk-in wardrobe, lit by flickering neon from the city below, he stripped Brianna bare—her tits heaving, spade tattoos stark against pale skin. 'Domina for you, doll—fierce but leashed.' He zipped her into a latex corset that cinched her waist, pushing her breasts up like offerings, black straps crisscrossing to frame her pierced nipples. Thigh-high boots with stiletto heels clicked as she tested them, a short skirt flaring just enough to flash her ass when she bent. A choker collar locked around her neck, engraved with 'Olivia's Enforcer,' and wrist cuffs dangled chains for binding prey. Brianna posed, hips swaying, the outfit screaming power borrowed from submission—her clit throbbed under the thin thong, already wet for the role.

Olivia's transformation sealed her dominance: Joker draped her in a crimson leather bodysuit, slashed open at the crotch to expose her shaved pussy and ass, spades embroidered along the seams like badges of conquest. Fishnet stockings clung to her legs, ending in spiked heels that echoed authority. A riding crop hung from her belt, and a harness across her chest held pouches for toys—dildos, plugs, vials of lube. 'Mistress supreme,' Joker purred, slapping her ass as she adjusted the outfit, her holes accessible for his cock whenever the mood struck. He fucked her right there, bending her over a mirror—thrusting deep into her pussy from behind, balls slapping her clit as Brianna watched, fingering herself on command. 'Rules are simple, queens: Olivia calls the shots. Brianna enforces. I watch the show—and reap the fucks.' Cum dripped from Olivia's thighs as she straightened, crop cracking against Brianna's ass to test the chain of command.

The plan for Jimmy Olson unfolded over whiskey and holograms in the penthouse war room. Screens glowed with Daily Planet feeds: Jimmy, the eager photographer with his tousled hair and boyish grin, snapping shots of Lois Lane's legs under her desk or Supergirl's cape in the wind. 'That little snapper's our ticket to immortalizing our romps,' Joker laughed, pulling Olivia onto his lap. She ground against his hardening cock through his pants, outlining the snatch. 'Grab him after hours—lure with a tip on hero sightings. Brianna plays bait, you reel him in, Mistress. Break him slow, make it a spectacle for me.' Less than five weeks, they agreed—turn the cub reporter into a cum-slurping submissive, camera in hand for every thrust between Joker and Olivia.

Night one: The ambush in a foggy Metropolis alley behind the Planet. Brianna lounged against a lamppost in her domina gear, skirt hiked to show garters, pretending to text on a burner phone. Jimmy hustled by, camera slung over his shoulder, chasing a lead on 'clown sightings' whispered through underground channels. 'Hey, handsome,' Brianna purred, stepping into his path, her corset straining as she arched her back. 'Heard you're the guy for discreet shots. Got a story that needs capturing—big players, no questions.' His eyes widened, tracing her curves, cock twitching in his slacks before he nodded, following her into the shadows where Olivia waited, crop in hand.

The van doors slammed shut, tires screeching as goons bound Jimmy's wrists with zip ties. Olivia straddled his chest on the bench seat, pussy pressing against his shirt through her open crotch. 'Welcome to the circus, photo boy.' Brianna knelt at his feet, boots pinning his ankles, while Joker lounged in the front, cackling through the partition. Back at the penthouse, they dragged him to the playroom—a converted ballroom with spotlights, chains from the ceiling, and a king-sized bed stained from prior romps. Olivia stripped him methodically: shirt ripped open to expose his lean chest, pants yanked down to free his average cock, already half-hard from the thrill. 'Pathetic,' she sneered, crop flicking his balls lightly, making him yelp. Brianna chained his arms overhead, her domina presence looming as she whispered taunts, breath hot on his neck.

Week one blurred into torment and tease. Olivia orchestrated the breaking, her voice commanding as she edged him daily. Mornings, Brianna ****-fed him breakfast—straddling his face nude, grinding her wet pussy on his mouth until he lapped her juices, tongue delving deep while Olivia watched, fingering herself. 'Taste submission, slut.' Afternoons in the dungeon: Olivia pegged him first, strapping on a thick black dildo that stretched his virgin ass wide. She lubed the head, pressed against his hole, and thrust in slow—inch by inch, his cheeks spreading as he gasped, body arching. Brianna held his legs apart, pinching his nipples, her own ass plugged on Olivia's orders to stay focused. 'Deeper for the Mistress,' Brianna urged, as Olivia bottomed out, hips snapping to pound his prostate, cock leaking pre-cum onto his stomach. Joker spectated from a throne, stroking himself, occasionally pulling Olivia off to fuck her mouth mid-thrust—her lips stretching around his pale shaft, slurping greedily while Jimmy whimpered below.

Evenings turned exhibition: Olivia made Jimmy watch her service Joker, the show etching obedience. She'd drop to her knees before the clown, throat taking his cock whole—gagging wetly as saliva dripped, tits bouncing in her harness. Brianna positioned Jimmy on his knees nearby, hand jerking his cock in sync but denying release, her domina grip firm. 'Eyes on the real action,' she'd hiss, slapping his shaft when he looked away. Joker flipped Olivia onto all fours, slamming into her ass—cheeks rippling with each brutal drive, her moans filling the room as cum eventually flooded her depths. Jimmy's desperation built; by week's end, he begged to lick the overflow from Olivia's gaping hole, tongue probing eagerly under her crop's guidance.

Week two ramped the humiliation. Olivia collared him with a leather band etched 'Olivia's Lens,' forcing him to crawl nude through the penthouse, ass plugged with a vibrating tail. Brianna whipped his back lightly during chores—polishing boots with his tongue, ass up as she railed him with a strap-on molded from Olivia's pussy. 'Serve the chain,' Brianna growled, thrusting deep while Olivia rode Jimmy's face, pussy smothering him until he drowned in her scent. Joker joined for 'photo rehearsals': Olivia bent over a table, Joker pounding her pussy from behind—wet slaps echoing as she clawed the wood. Jimmy, chained to a tripod, was made to hold a camera, hands shaking as he snapped shots of the penetration, zoom on Joker's cock stretching her lips. 'Closer, bitch—capture the cream.' His own cock caged now, leaking in frustration, submission cracking his

[will.

By](http://will.By) week three, cracks showed—Jimmy's eyes glazed with need, body responding to Olivia's touch like a puppet. She broke him in the playroom spotlight: Brianna bound him spread-eagle on the bed, legs wide. Olivia mounted his face reverse, ass cheeks spreading to let him rim her hole while she sucked Joker off inches away—throat bulging on his length, gagging rhythmically. Brianna fucked his caged cock with a fleshlight, teasing until he sobbed pleas. 'Mistress, please—let me serve.' Olivia dismounted, sliding down to impale her pussy on his face fully, grinding until she squirted, flooding his mouth. That night, unchained, he knelt voluntarily, kissing her boots, cock straining as Joker claimed her ass publicly—thrusting savagely, balls slapping her clit while Jimmy licked the joining, tongue flicking where shaft met hole.

Week four sealed the remake. Olivia's dominance peaked: she pegged him missionary, dildo churning his ass as Brianna sat on his chest, pussy dripping onto his sternum. 'You're mine now—submissive toy for the lens.' He bucked into the thrusts, hole clenching greedily, orgasms ripped from him without touch. Joker remolded the final piece: in the war room, Olivia rode the clown reverse cowgirl—ass bouncing on his cock, pussy exposed as she fingered herself. Jimmy, camera in hand, circled on knees, snapping every angle: close-ups of her lips gripping the shaft, wide shots of tits jiggling, her face contorted in ecstasy. 'Only our fucks, snapper—immortalize the queen's addiction.' Brianna enforced, crop ready if he faltered, but he didn't—eyes locked on Olivia, submissive fire lit.

Under five weeks, Jimmy emerged remade: collared, pierced nipples glinting, a tiny spade tattoo on his hip. He shadowed Joker and Olivia like a ghost, camera clicking during their endless romps—her throat stuffed with cock in the limo, pussy pounded against penthouse windows, ass filled in boardroom chairs. Brianna flanked as domina guard, occasionally joining to hold Olivia's legs wide for better shots, her own submission fueling the chain. Metropolis's heroes loomed next, but Jimmy's lens captured the core: Joker's pale thrusts owning Olivia's holes, her moans the soundtrack to their growing empire. 'Perfect punchline,' Joker grinned, hosing her insides as the shutter snapped eternal.