What Comes Naturally

Ivy relaxed in the broken flophouse. Not the most luxurious surroundings, but she supposed nature was rarely luxurious. But through the hole in the roof that she thought Solomon Grundy had made a few years back, coming in for a crash landing, the hot sun burned down on her body. She relaxed in the spotlight of it, a glass of iced tea beside her lounge chair. There was a pleasant tingle in her body and she writhed gently, getting comfortable, slack and cozy and ready to doze.

Then she heard the floorboards creeping.

She opened her eyes and saw one of the little Bats there, the new Batgirl, oh so fetishistic now that high heels and big tits were out of fashion. Shame. Ivy had always loved those kicky yellow boots.

This Batgirl was very much the quiet type, so the fact that she was making noise meant that Ivy’s perimeter pollen had worked. This girl was dazed and confused, halfheartedly trying to struggle on with the mission. Adorable.

“Why, Batgirl,” Ivy said, picking up her tea and sipping it. “I didn’t hear you come in.” 

Batgirl was standing about four feet away from her. The gimp mask covered her eyes, but Ivy could tell they were large; she could feel her staring. For the first time, Ivy remembered she was naked. Oh well—there was no sense in pretending modesty. The girl would either tolerate the sight or enjoy it. And she seemed to be enjoying it, the feel of her gaze moving about Ivy’s naked, thrusting breasts and down to the triangle of her pubic hair.

“Funny seeing you here,” Ivy continued, knowing she had to pick up the conversational slack with this Batgirl lost for words. “A little like a dandelion growing through the cracks in the pavement. You have this gentleness to you. You look delicate, if nothing else. It reminds me of Harl, in a way. Although I find your side of the conversation a lot more tolerable.”

One of Ivy’s legs was over the armrest of the lounge chair, the other straight down the footrest. She knew Batgirl was staring between her thighs, at her sex. She didn’t care. The Bats were so rarely fun, and this Batgirl was now promising to be a good deal of entertainment.

“Why don’t you take off your mask?” Ivy asked her, her voice very low.

“Can’t,” Batgirl said. Her accent was heavily Eastern, although indistinct. Ivy could imagine she’d moved around a lot as a child, either dragged or running. And there was a quiver in her voice. “They don’t want me to.”

“But I want you to,” Ivy pouted. “Here. Let your old friend Ivy do it for you…”

A tentacle drooped down from the rafters, wrapped around one of Batgirl’s horns, pulled her mask away. Underneath, her face was pleasant, round and soft, the glazed look in her eyes not fitting the sweetness that seemed so active in her.

“What’s your name, darling girl?”

“C-cassandra. Cass.”

“That’s lovely.” Ivy regarded Cass with warm eyes. It was obvious how excited Cass was. Her small body trembled between desire and embarrassment. Deliberately, Ivy gazed upon the small mounds of Cass’s breasts, seeing the leather inside her yellow sigil molded to her succulent nipples. She licked her lips as her gaze drifted down, stopping only at the slightly protrudent crotch of her costume. When her gaze returned to Cass’s face, she saw the girl’s interest.

Ivy slowly opened her legs wider. She kept looking at Cass with speculating, simmering eyes.

“You’re pretty,” Cass said huskily.

“Do you think so?” Ivy asked patronizingly. Cass nodded. “How would you like to help momma with one of her experiments?” Cass nodded again.

Getting up, Ivy walked through her hideout to her latest work, wagging her hips for Cass’s edification. The project resembled a great big pitcher plant, its mouth full of ‘honey’, and another hole in the roof—this time a low-flying Man-Bat, Ivy thought—fed it sunlight as it matured. The sun was still high, and quite hot. Ivy could feel its heat soaked into the fan-shaped oyster mushrooms that grew up the pitcher plant, as she walked up them like a stair’s steps and submerged herself into the honey within her pitcher’s pitfall.

“Come on in,” Ivy called to Cass. “The water’s fine.”

Ivy rested her arms on the side of the little tub the pitcher made as she watched Cass ascend the steps and climb in beside her, her thigh close to Ivy’s as they sat down. From the way Cass exhaled, Ivy could tell the honey was soothing in its warm weight.

Ivy placed her arm around Cass’s shoulders, Cass rested her head on Ivy. Under Cass’s arm, Ivy let her hand slip until it found a sweet little teat to cup and fondle. She was pleased when a small hand moved up her stomach to curl around one of her much larger breasts. They held each other like that for a long time, kissing a little.

“Wish… sooner… this, but sooner…” Cass murmured lazily.

“Why, dear?”

“Wouldn’t have to… touch myself…” Cass said haltingly, twisting Ivy’s nipples. “Rather have you… doing this…”

Ivy laughed. “You’re not as innocent as you look, are you Cass?”

Cass pulled her head up and looked at Ivy. “I… look innocent?”

Ivy let out another, even more mellifluous giggle. “Yes. And even more so now. An innocent little creature in my wicked clutches…”

Cass paused, looking confused once more. “What is… I feel… my chest, warm…”

“That’s just the experiment taking effect,” Ivy said soothingly. “Try to relax. My theory is it may even prove enjoyable.”

Cass looked down at her chest, shocked to see the fabric tightening and stretching around her breasts as they grew. All over her body, the suit was pulled taut, rending in places as her breasts burst free of their skintight confines. A huge rip tore between the swelling globes, opening up until it accommodated some of their new girth. Finally, her suit broke all the way down to her pubis, hanging open in tatters that could do little more than cling limply to the new contours of her cleavage. She had gone from an A-cup to a D-cup, and there was little her tiny costume could’ve done to survive the process intact.

“So… big…” was all Cass could mutter.

Ivy didn’t notice. Her attention was riveted on the tears in Cass’s costume. Not lustfully, but seeing the scars that crisscrossed Cass’s slender young body.

“Cassandra! What happened?”

Cass looked down at herself, seeing the pale, damaged flesh usually hidden away by her costume. “Fighting. Fighting bad men.”

“Yes, I imagine your commander’s had you do no shortage of that,” Ivy said bitterly. “And pleasure? How much of that have you felt? How many times have you had a simple little kiss without my pheromones relaxing you?”

“Never,” Cass said. “No time. Fighting.”

Ivy took a deep breath. “The experiment is over,” she said to Cass after some moments. “Let’s go to bed.”

The simple invitation meant more than it stated; even Cass knew that. And she was glad for it.

After Ivy had toweled them off, she led Cass to a twin bed. They laid down together, only their shoulders touching. Cass could feel the heat of Ivy’s body, so close to hers, but so hard to touch. Ivy slipped her hand into Cass’s, squeezing it with an urgency that suggested more than friendship. The walk to the bedroom was proving to be the lighting of a fuse they couldn’t blow out, and didn’t want to if they could.

“I’m cold,” Ivy whispered, turning her face to Cass. “Aren’t you cold?”

Cass squirmed under the covers until she was against Ivy, helping her keep warm. Ivy curled up around Cass, rubbing her cheek against Cass’s until the girl turned her head and offered her lips to Ivy. Ivy accepted, returned the kiss, and was almost unsurprised when Cass rolled on top of her and slid her tongue deep into Ivy’s mouth. Ivy sought to exert herself, pulling at Cass’s costume so it ripped further. Cass shifted her body to make the task easier. In barely a minute, Cass’s new, large breasts were hanging free, brushing over Ivy’s cleavage.

Bare, Cass’s breasts showed the same light scars that covered the rest of her body, but they felt good as they brushed against Ivy’s tits. Cass rolled over onto her back and kicked away what was left of her costume, letting it drop off the side of the bed like a shed skin. Ivy squirmed down to the foot of the bed, wiggling around on all fours underneath the covers until she could smell that sweet pussy right under her nose. She licked the little pink nub above them, the rich and pouty lips that shielded the way inside Cass, and the girl spread her legs and arched her back to allow Ivy to keep going as far as she wanted.

Ivy sinuously licked from top to bottom, covering Cass’s sex with the long, slow, smooth movements of her tongue, curling it through the sparse pubic hair and teasingly stroking it against her clit. Cass’s fingers gripped the sheets; her teeth dipped into her lower lips. She was barely able to control herself, writhing against the mattress, her smooth skin sliding against the satin sheets, everything soft and slippery. She desperately wanted Ivy’s tongue inside her, going to that deep place between her legs where she was tingling without being touched, but Ivy was playing the long game. She enjoyed the torment of both teasing Cass and showing her the full capacity for pleasure that her body possessed. And so she let her tongue linger at the pink lips, licking them full of hot blood rushing down to arouse Cass.

She maybe would’ve stopped, and tortured Cass just a little harder, but she was enjoying herself too much. She kept going. Cass arched her hips higher and higher, trying to find the relief that Ivy’s tongue offered but withheld. She couldn’t get to it. Ivy had her cold and she wasn’t stopping, not until the pressure became too much. Which it did. 

With juices flowing abundantly from Cass, Ivy pressed her mouth to Cass’s pussy to get as much as she could, her tongue sliding into Cass’s opening. As she did, Cass lifted herself nearly a foot off the bed, arching her hips to complete herself with Ivy’s tongue.

Then she saw stars as something—a shaking, heated something—shot through her body, short-circuiting her consciousness. She was locked in the arch her body had formed as a long, slow moan leaked out of her. Ivy kept her tongue inside Cass, letting her enjoy it until—after what seemed like hours—Cass’s orgasm stopped and she collapsed into a heap, hugging herself in a corner of the bed.

Ivy moved to hug her as well, sharing in the warmth that had spread through Cass’s body.

“I’ve seen people… wanting it… but I didn’t know… like that…” Cass whispered.

“It isn’t always,” Ivy said. “But I hope it will be for you. Rest. I’ve given you a good memory. Let it last.”

“What about when I wake up?” Cass asked.

“Close your eyes and see.”