Everyone Gets To Play With Ivy

“How do you like my perfume, Superboy?” Ivy asked, drawing a hand down her barely clothed body. His eyes were already boggling, bulging out of his head, irises blown wide to drink in all of her supple flesh. But with her fingers trickling along her throat and moving daintily between her full breasts, he was able to take her in curve by curve instead of being stunned by the sum total of her physique. “Doesn’t it smell nice?”

Superboy was a cute one, she thought. Boyish, yes, but with all the ingredients for a handsome man on par with his famous mentor. And she might not mind making him into that man. He wasn’t the statue of chiseled, well-defined perfection that Superman was, but Kon certainly had no shortage of muscle, thick thighs and bulging biceps dominating his hunky body, while his costume clung to cobblestone abs like a layer of shrink-wrap. And though he was a little young for Ivy, how could she resist? Teenage boys were even easier to ensnare than their adult counterparts. Both equally immature, but the men knew enough to be scared, while the boys were so eager to learn, they barely cared that her first name was Poison.

“Yes… such a lovely perfume…” Ivy ran her fingers between the two vines of leafy fronds that covered her chest, down the slope of one breast and along the curve of the other, as if stirring the perfume she supposedly wore. Of course, what Kon was smelling wasn’t so much that as pheromones, seeping from her every pore, carried on her sweat. “And you—such a lovely boy… would you like to keep smelling my—“

As Kon stood there, paralyzed by the sheer lust her pheromones had produced in him, his denim jeans abruptly gave way. Ivy noticed his erection in the same moment it tore through both his underwear and his jeans to be free, shooting up into the air in masculine effrontery. There, at least, Kon was no boy. Ivy almost would’ve believed that he put Superman to shame, if only because he was so paternal as to be sexless, whereas Kon was—almost literally—a walking hard-on.

Ivy amended her earlier musings. She was, of course, too clear-headed and rational to let Superboy’s powers go to waste—there might be any number of men with a cock that big, that hard, that juicy, but only so many with heatvision. But she would definitely be making full use of that member as well. First, though, it would amuse her to make Kon jump through hoops while his ardor for her was so blatantly—inescapably—obvious.

“Now, Kon—“

But Kon didn’t take this as the start of the sentence that it was. Instead, he—or rather the raging hormones that were doing his thinking for him, under Ivy’s own influence—took those two words like a well-trained dog staring at a steak. Namely, that he was ‘now’ free to indulge himself, and he moved to do so as hurriedly as possible.

For while Ivy’s characterization of him as a walking hard-on was fair, Kon was far more than that. He had the potential—the active ingredients—of Lex Luthor’s intellect and Clark Kent’s strength of will. Perhaps he had it in him to willfully misinterpret Ivy’s words. Or perhaps he just had the reaction to a scantily-clad, D-cupped woman with exotic green skin that any teenage boy would have if someone were foolish enough to strip him of all inhibitions.

“Yeah, now!” Kon roared, grabbing Ivy by the shoulders and driving her down to her knees. He swung his crotch against her kneeling body, pressing his surging erection right into her face, and Ivy barely had time to clamp her lips shut and turn her head away. Kon grabbed her chin and twisted her back to facing him, pumping his hips against her face, his stiff cock rubbing all over her face as he relieved some of the sexual tension that gripped his body like a fever. “Oh yeah! Take my cock! Suck it, suck it!”

Shocked and horrified, Ivy looked sidelong at his cock. It was shiny with precum, redolent with the sweat that men tended to break out in when she was near, and though she had a good idea of its size, she could barely see most of it while Kon was rubbing it against her cheek. The feel of her warm flesh on his erection whetted his appetite for her, and produced even more precum from his slit for Kon to massage into Ivy’s skin with his hurried prodding. She felt his pulse racing through his rigid erection.

If she took the time to think, Ivy might’ve realized the one thing she shouldn’t do at the moment. She might’ve come up with a way out of her present situation—using her plants to pull Kon away from her, restrain him at least enough for her to give the command to stand down. However, while Ivy was not repelled by Kon’s prick, she was scandalized at what he’d done, the liberty he’d taken, the insult to her dominion of him. Her mind flush with thoughts of how she’d punish him, Ivy opened her mouth to tell Kon exactly what she thought of his little rebellion.

Kon promptly stuffed his cock into her mouth.

“MMMMPH!” Ivy exclaimed, or at least tried to, her words muffled by having Kon’s huge cock shoved between her lips. The flavor of his prick, his precum, his general musky, sweaty, teenage boy masculinity—it hit her all at once.

Ivy’s eyes widened. She was startled by how much she liked it. Normally, she’d force a man to bathe, scrub himself thoroughly, before she touched him, but Kon was—

Was fucking her in the face! Ivy squirmed, pressing her palms flat against the washboard abs she had been admiring so recently and trying to push Kon off her, but he’d already moved his hands to their natural position on her head. Kon wasn’t moving away and she wasn’t going anywhere either.

In her frenzy, Ivy’s tongue pushed futilely against the burgeoning knob of Kon’s manhood, and she found that it was awash in more precum than ever. Her attempts to force it out of her mouth only inundated her tongue with his taste.

Whether Ivy liked it or not, Kon was a fan of the act. “OH YEAH!” he enthused. “That’s it, baby! Tongue my prick good!”

With his fingers gripping what felt like all of her crimson mane, he pitched his cock into her mouth with deliberate slowness, savoring the way her wet mouth took in his stony erection, was drawn off it, and then filled with it again. Ivy tried to bite him, but he was as vulnerable in his phallus as he was in the rest of his superstrong body.

“Fuck yeah!” Kon bellowed, quickening the pace, his hands pumping Ivy faster and harder on his invincible cock. “Suck me, beautiful! Use your teeth! Lick that clown girl’s pussy right off my dick!”

Ivy let out a muffled groan as the underside of his prick rasped over her tongue. Was that what she was tasting on him? The familiar note to his oh-so-manly flavor? What he had been doing in her hideout in the first place? She had thought he’d come there to capture her and simply underestimated her power with blithe male ignorance, but was it possible he’d actually been there to fuck Harley’s brains out?

Yes. Yes, it was quite possible. The bitch brought two hyenas over, not to mention an impressive collection of dildos. Superboy combined the salient points of both.

Horrifyingly, Ivy felt a pulse of arousal move through her as she registered that yes, that was Harley’s cunt she was tasting while Kon ravaged her mouth. The idea of having a man fuck her face—of her having to give pleasure with no reward—that was bad enough. But to have to accept a prick wet from her own girlfriend’s pussy, that was just unbearable.

The hinges of her jaw burned. Kon’s thick cock was forcing them further and further apart. Her eyes filled with tears at the strain. Then his cockhead pushed past the back of her mouth and into her throat, straight into her gagging gurgles at having to accept such a massive intrusion. Her throat clenched, coiled on the unwanted intruder, and that tightness milked Kon’s erection like a stroking hand.

“Goddamn, you’re a freak!” Kon cried happily as he held her head down on his groin and let her gargling throat jerk him off.

“Well, well, what’s this?” came a feline drawl, mewling with pleasure to see Ivy in such a state. Hearing those words, Ivy was pulled from her own sickening arousal enough to feel another’s eyes on her, and she fumed, tried to speak, gagged even harder. Her throat roiled as Kon pumped her happily on his hilted cock—clearly, the new arrival met with his approval. That offended Ivy even more. He was already fucking the face of the most beautiful woman in Gotham and seeing some butch dominatrix in leather was what really turned him on?

“I’m fucking her face,” Kon said haplessly.

Selina let out a rich little cackle. “I can see that,” she purred. “Oh, Ivy, I think you’ve bitten off more than you can chew this time. Should I help you out? Make this a little easier for you?” Ivy could just picture how Selina’s eyes sparkled as she turned them to Kon. “What do you think? You’re the one with your cock down her throat. You must know her… heh… pretty well.”

Kon nodded so hard, the action went through his whole body. Ivy gagged some more as his erection jiggled inside her gullet. “Yeah, help her out, yeah, yeah—“

“Alright. If you’re sure…”

Ivy heard a crack and then Selina’s whip unmistakably struck her ass. She wailed into Kon’s prick as it left a welt across her plump buttocks, cutting away the nestling vines and shoots that served to give her a measure of modesty—leaving only her naked, throbbing ass.

The agony was horrible, but somehow, it got Ivy past her gag reflex. She slid her mouth down on Kon’s manhood in some unthinking attempt to stifle the pain and so finally managed to lodge it down her throat, her soft lips pressed into the kinky curls of Kon’s pubic hair. Her ass throbbed maliciously where Selina’s whip had cut into it.

I’m going to kill that bitch! Ivy thought viciously. Her and that idiot Harley—can’t believe she brought this idiot Superboy to our hideout—can’t believe I actually thought of letting him fuck me and now—

She felt the tip of Selina’s boot brush aside the curlicuing tendrils of plant matter she had sheared from Ivy’s ass, the cool leather almost soothing on her wounded skin. “My, my,” Selina breathed, audibly licking her lips. “Someone’s having a good time. That pussy of yours is dripping wet. How about it, Kon? Wanna have a go at it?”

Ivy looked up at him in a swirl of emotions. Yes, please—I mean, no, don’t, don’t you dare—wait, if he takes his cock out, then I can tell him to—yes—I can have him rip Selina’s goddamn head off before I even start on him.

She made her eyes as beguiling as possible, pleading with Kon, begging him to do anything that would free her lips.

She had underestimated how oblivious Kon could be. By a lot.

“No, if she’s getting off on it… oh fuck, Catwoman, this feels really good!”

Selina petted his bicep, all the way down to Ivy’s head, which she patted. “I’ll bet it does!” she cooed. “Well, if you’re not going to help her out, I suppose I’ll have to.”

And then Ivy felt what was unmistakably the handle of Selina’s whip sliding into her pussy.

“MMMMMMMMMMMPH!”

“Wow, she’s wet,” Selina observed over Ivy’s mewling, groaning protests. “Did you drop a load in her? Is that what I’m riding on?”

Kon shook his head, gasping—Ivy’s mouth felt better than ever with her silenced scream trembling all around his manhood. “No, no way…”

“Then I guess she’s just really turned on,” Selina purred directly into Ivy’s ear, sliding the whiphandle in and out of her quivering channel. “I guess she’s just a horny bitch who loves having a man’s cock down her throat.”

Ivy’s eyes rolled back in her head. She always enjoyed dominating Harley, hearing Selina top Quinn, even making Selina submit to her if she could manage it, but she’d never bottomed like this before. Never been forced to admit how aroused she was as she sucked at a man’s prick, sliding the hard flesh in and out of her lips, lapping at it with her tongue. She held Kon’s balls in her hands as she ran her mouth over his shaft, moaning in rising, helpless passion as she felt Selina’s gloved fingers exploring her clit. Her hard, hard clit.

“Wow!” Selina cooed, sliding her finger into Ivy’s sex. Ivy blushed tremendously. Even through the glove, she knew Selina would be able to feel how wet she was. She was dripping, gushing, and it had in no way started with Selina’s whip pushing inside of her. “No wonder you and Harley are such a good couple. She gets off on the whole love slave thing too. You two really do have a lot in common—you just have better taste in men. But you’re as wet as Quinn would be if she were here now.” She took her finger out of Ivy’s quivering pussy and held it up. “Here, Kon. Have a taste of what you’re doing to her.”

Ivy moaned, her mouth sliding over his prick, taking it right to the entrance of her throat. His grip on her head was loose now, he was letting her thrust herself up and down on his erection, and she was doing it, she couldn’t stop herself. Vaguely, Ivy told herself that Selina would just force her to keep going if she tried to stop, but Ivy didn’t even bother fully forming the justification to herself.

She caressed Kon’s balls, now wondering how much cum his wonderfully sized prick could give her. She felt ashamed of it, or she would feel ashamed of it once she wasn’t so hot. But she liked the feel of prick in her mouth. She liked being used. Even if she could talk, she would just be ordering Kon to do exactly this to her.

“Hey Red, hey Seliners, whacha doing?”

Ivy’s eyes popped open again. Oh no. Not her.

“What does it look like we’re doing?” Selina giggled to the new arrival. “We’re making Poison Ivy our bitch.”

“Can I play?”

“Sure.” Selina lovingly flicked a strand of hair out of Ivy’s eyes. “Everyone gets to play with Ivy.”