Harley and Ivy Want Kids

They laid Lois down on a sort of bower of soft moss...Ivy knelt beside the bed at the reporter's head as her goons began to strip the reporter of her clothes. The villain's fingers continues to rub and tease Lois Lane's stiff nipples, and the reporter shuddered in a steady chain of climaxes that seemed never-ending...her whole body alive and aching, unable to fight back...and then, as villains often do, Ivy began to monologue.

"Harley and I have been thinking we'd like kids. The problem is, I'm infertile and Harley, well, after what the Joker did to her she's...well, we're worried about what the chemicals might do to the fetus. Adoption is generally out, given our criminal records. So that just leaves...surrogacy. A nice, healthy young woman is just what we needed. Of course, the first few attempts didn't take...and the money involved is no joke. We had to knock over a bank to pay for it."

Lois Lane could only gibber and drool. Ivy shifted her position, moving to the reporter's side so that her minions could peel off the reporter's shirt and jacket...and Lois Lane lay there all naked beneath the grow lights, her body sheened with sweat as the pale redheaded villain played with the reporter's breasts.

"So we hatched a plan...I used my knowledge of biochemistry to make a more complacent, fertile surrogate for us...and Harley went out to get just the right sperm." Ivy's green eyes flashed, her mouth broke into a crooked smile. "It's all going to be so perfect...because if you weren't ovulating before, you are now...and you want it, don't you my little slut?"

"Yuhhhsss..." Lois Lane moaned as the juice dripping from her cunny fed the moss beneath her ass.

As if on cue, a high-pitched voice with a New Jersey accent cut in.

"Pammy! I'm ho-o-o-o-me!"

Lois turned her head as a pale, lithe form bounded into the room, with the energy of a cartoon character. She was dressed in her classic red-and-black checkered uniform, her head in a jester's cap with tingling bells, a domino mask over her mismatched eyes. She held a giant wooden mallet in one hand, and a medical grade cooler in the other...the kind used for organ transplants.

"Kiss! Kiss kiss!" Harley said as she came to a halt with a flourish and bent nearly in two, puckering her lips. Ivy never missed a beat, continuing to knead the reporter's tits as ashe leaned forward to press her lips against her lover's. As soon as they broke that little kiss, Ivy asked:

"Did you get it?" she asked.

"Right here!" Harley said with a giggle. "The finest tadpoles from..."