SEL Chapter 9

Aki Aramaki lowers her hands and the security guards with their metal detector wands step back. She enters the elevator and rides down to Ivy’s floor.

Ivy waits in her lab coat over her jammies, arms folded.

“Big balls on you right now,” she says evenly as Aki emerges from the elevator into the laboratory. “Here to apologize?”

“For what?” Aki brushes past Ivy and goes to the table, where a little plastic rack holds a variety of injectors. “Which one of these is it?”

“Is what?”

“The new formula. The one you want to test.”

“How do you know about that?”

“The whole board has access to your emails. Lucius doesn’t think it’s ready.”

“You can’t take one of those out of here. Get lost, trophy wife.” Ivy rolls her eyes and jerks her thumb toward the elevator. “Don’t make me call security.”

“I’m here to help you.”

“By screwing with Barbara?”

“I thought that was you,” Aki says mildly, trailing her finger along the injectors.

Ivy snorts. “You’ll have to do better.”

“It’s about to get real lonely down here. You know she won’t be able to come within a mile of this place after she denies it and backs away,” Aki warns. “She’ll make her statement later tonight. Will you watch? You sure you don’t want me to test this for you?”

“So you can say that Poison Ivy poisoned you? Sweetheart, that MBA from Princeton doesn’t even qualify you to answer phones. You’re out of your depth. I’m the supervillain. You’re just a bitch.”

Aki smiles. “I’m not planning to use it against you. You want a test rat? I’m your rat. I know your work is good.”

“We’re being recorded.”

“I am loyal to this company, Dr. Isley. All I’m doing is furthering our interests.”

Ivy smirks. “Fine.” She reaches past Aki and plucks an injector from the rack.

Aki unbuttons the cuff of her blouse and rolls up her sleeve.

“Oh, no. Sweetie,” Ivy says.

Aki holds her gaze. Ivy swirls her finger.

“Hmph.” Aki’s look of smugness is a little stony now, but she turns around and places her hands on the table, leaning forward slightly.

Ivy none too gently pulls up Aki’s pencil skirt, exposing her black panties under her glossy stockings. Aki gasps as Ivy jabs the injector into her right cheek, then tugs the skirt back into place.

Blushing a little, but determined to look steely, Aki turns around and smooths her skirt.

“That’s it?”

“Stay hydrated,” Ivy says mildly.

SEL

The office on the fifth floor is dark and empty.

Roxy Rocket does not crash through a window on her sweet rocket thing; she doesn’t do anything aerial or fancy at all. It actually makes Stephanie nervous as she waits in the dark, watching the security cameras that Roxy believes she’s looped as the break-in takes place. It’s not that Stephane minds the comparably simple situation, it’s just not what she expected. She’s prepared to handle the rocket thing, and she prefers it when things go the way that she expects. That happens roughly half the time when one runs with the Bat crowd.

The elevator dings and the doors open. Roxy strides out, flanked by her hulking, masked goons.

Stephanie’s gooparangs land before anyone can react, and this time she’s doubled up to make sure the goons can’t so easily get free, gluing their feed and legs to the ground and effectively immobilizing them.

“What the hell?” Roxy squawks, twisting to look back only to take both Stephanie's boots full in the chest. She crashes back through the nearest cubicle.

Stephanie looms over her before she can even think of getting back up.

Roxy glares up at her.

“How’d you know?” she demands, indignant.

“Call it a hunch.” Stephanie points a warning finger at the goons. “Don’t try anything. Your fancy tech won’t work tonight.”

The elevator dings again. Roxy frowns and the goons look over their shoulders in surprise. The doors slide apart and a bespectacled little blonde in a burgundy pantsuit steps out, gazing at her phone as she absently reaches for the lights. She shrieks as the nearest of the two goons grabs her without hesitation; she was within arm’s reach. The goon covers her mouth with a gloved hand.

“You don’t want to escalate this to ****,” Stephanie warns, annoyed. This chick’s working late? Come on.

“Throw her out the window,” Roxy calls to the goons. “It always works on Batman!”

“Hey! You shut up! Don’t you dare,” Stephanie snaps. “Besides, she’s not going through plate glass. Just let her go before this gets worse.”

The goons exchange a look. The one not holding the girl reaches out and grabs a chair, which she heaves through the nearest window. The goon with the girl gives her a hard shove.

Swearing, Stephanie lunges and dives. She manages to catch the girl’s hand as she goes over, but the girl’s weight drags her. Stephanie snags the foot of a desk to stop them both from being pancakes.

“Ah!” she bites out. She’s on her back, her left hand gripping the screaming girl’s hand while her right clutches the desk. If she lets go with either, it’s over. It’s like she’s being pulled in two, especially her left arm, out in the cold, windy night air.

Now it’s Roxy standing over her.

“Told you it always works,” she says. “Now, let’s see who you are.” She straddles Stephanie with a little smirk and drops her weight, making Stephanie tense and grunt. This isn’t just physically demanding, it hurts. She is utterly helpless.

Chuckling to herself, Roxy reached for Stephanie’s mask but stops herself.

“Oh? What’s going on here?” She moves aside, eyes shining, to touch the slight bulge in Stephanie’s costume. “Oh. Look at this.” She rubs with her palm. The costume doesn’t let a lot of sensation through, but it feels good. Stephanie can’t control that. She grinds her teeth and groans in frustration. Her legs move in response, and Roxy laughs in delight. “You like that?” She swings her leg over Stephanie again and places her bottom on the bulge.

The dangling girl is blushing. Stephanie can’t even risk opening her mouth to say anything. The goons are fully masked, but they’re watching too. Her face burns with rage and humiliation as Roxy moves her shapely rear around.

Stephanie exhales hard through her nose.

“Oh. I like this too,” Roxy says in a sultry tone. It’s no surprise; Bruce’s file on her clearly states that she gets off on crazy shit. She feels around down there. “What? No zipper? How do I get it out? Fine. Fine. Whatever. Get the stuff,” she calls to the goons, who come to their senses and start trying to free themselves. “Fine, you want to keep it in there, I’ll just take care of myself.” Roxy places her hands on Stephanie’s chest and looks down at her, a little pink on her cheeks as she grinds and rocks, humping Stephanie’s trapped erection.

Stephanie can’t keep track of time or anything else; all she can do is hold on. Her hands ache. Her body’s on fire. She’s never been angrier.

Roxy’s lips part slightly and she sighs, rocking a little more heavily and insistently.

“Oh, yeah, baby,” she murmurs, biting her lips. She speeds up. This isn’t taking her long at all. Stephanie doesn’t have enough brain cells free to be impressed that Roxy can do this during a hot crime. “Ah!” Mouth open, Roxy tilts her O-face up and arches her back. Tears roll down Stephanie’s face as she feels hot cum spilling inside her suit. Her body quivers and she holds on.

“Got it, boss.” That’s the muffled voice of one of the goons.

“I got it too,” Roxy says, pushing a few loose strands of hair out of her face. “Thanks, baby. Oh, and tanks for the payday too.” She leans down and gives Stephanie a peck on her masked cheek. She starts to get up and wobbles. “Oh, shit. Help.”

One of the goons, embarrassed, helps her stand up. Roxy blows a kiss at Stephanie and heads for the elevator.

The elevator doors open, and Roxy looks back.

“Sorry, sweetheart? Am I leaving you in a sticky situation?”

Very funny. The doors close, and Roxy’s gone. Without Roxy sitting on her, Stephanie can move a little. She turns her body, hooks her foot under the leg of the desk, and draws her grapple. She fires it into the ceiling and uses it to pull herself and the girl up. As soon as the girl is in the building, Stephanie collapses to her hands and knees, shaking. Something’s wrong with her shoulder now, but she’s not badly hurt. It’s the orgasm. She’s spent. She can’t chase Roxy like this.

“Oh god, thank you so much,” the weepy girl is saying. Stephanie’s not hearing her.

Across town, two women prepare to watch Barbara Gordon’s statement on the allegations made by Viti Saxena: Summer Gleeson and Ivy herself.

Summer’s POV?

Or Ivy’s?