Mr. Freeze

A cool wind blew through the club. Gooseflesh rose on exposed flesh, nipples hardened and cocks shrunk as inadequate clothes provided insufficient insulation against the sudden drop in temperature. Teeth chattered and the energy on the floor seemed to be sucked out, the movement slowing down to a crawl...and then the crowd began to part as a tall, dark-clad figure strode slowly and purposefully toward Poison Ivy and Lois Lane.

A tall glass dome encased his bald head, the dark goggles rendering his eyes unreadable. Small vents in his mechanical suit released cold bursts of gas, visible in the air. He moved with surprising ease for such a big man, and with a light step considering the clunky suit. People fell back, the villain's name on their lips.

"Victor," Ivy said, as she caught sight of him. "I'm busy."

"So I can see," he said, voice oddly flat and distorted. He looked at the woman in Ivy's grasp, half-naked and with her panties around her ankles. "You know that is Lois Lane, don't you? The Daily Planet's greatest reporter? Superman's girlfriend?"

"Yes. So?" Ivy sounded bored. Around the club, vines began to crawl along floor, wall, and ceiling.

"You know I don't like heat, Pamela," Mr. Freeze said. "Especially not that kind of heat. I did not agree to fund your experiments so that you could indulge your sapphic lusts."

Ivy's eyes narrowed. "This is an experiment, Victor. One you are interfering with. That was not our agreement!"

"I concur. Lois Lane was not part of our agreement. Your 'experiment' has changed things."

Lois Lane watched him raise his right hand. There was a gun there, with a cord or cable connecting it to her suit. Even then, staring down the barrel of a freeze-ray, she couldn't stop rubbing her clit...