A Collapsing Chair

Lois Lane's butt slammed on the chair. She let out a gasp as she felt the smallest of the dildos slide up inside her slick slit. The suddenness of the penetration was a shock more than anything else.

Then the legs of the chair gave out. The reporter's jaws slammed shut as she fell on her tailbone, the small dildo wedged itself even deeper into her pussy...and next to her came a breathy peel of laughter, reminiscent of a hyena.

Pain radiated from the reporter's buttocks, and Lois Lane looked up and saw Harley Quinn, half-impaled on a larger sex toy, bent over and laughing at the reporter's predicament. Even through Poison Ivy's biochemical control, it was Harley Quinn's mocking laughter that hurt the reporter more than her sore buttocks.

Ivy reached over, and her fingers brushed the reporter's bare shoulder. Lois shivered as new chemical orders were issued to her compromised nervous system...and something changed in Lois Lane. It wasn't that the pain vanished, exactly, as much as it became transformed. A terrible sensual heat tingled through her. Even as her bruised buttocks pulsed, the pleasure throbbed inside of her. Pain and pleasure intermingled in a way that Lois had never felt before.

Harley noticed, looked a question at her lover. Ivy smiled smugly.

"A little tweak to her brain chemistry. Pain normally triggers dopamine release in the brain. Now it's just a little faster, a little more intense, and tied into her erogenous zones."

The Clown Princess of Crime digested this...and grinned.

"Awww, Ives. You got me a masochistic slut for my birthday!"

Lois Lane said nothing. She felt embarrassed as her pussy began to leak. She shivered as she wondered what Harley and Ivy would do to her next.