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"Harl... Um... Harleen? Boss?" The green beauty known as Poison Ivy piped up uncertainly, trying to catch up with the former clown criminal "Didn't you say that, um, we were going away? To ... Huh... Symkaria?"
"Indeed, my herbaceous minion, that was my original plan." Came Dr. Harleen Quinzel's offhand reply, striding confidently through Arkham's corridors clad only in an open white lab coat. After leaving their cells, both women had ripped off their crude inmate uniforms, but while Poison Ivy quickly got into her classic leaf-like costume, Harleen herself chose to leave the reminder of her former, stupider, life behind. Of course, the effect of her heart shaped ass sashaying hypnotically under the thin fabric, currently doing wonder for her friend's coherence, was completely unintentional "Alas, a deeper insight into the recesses of my own psyche convinced me of the imperativeness of confronting my former... Partner, in order to achieve closure from the years of cognitive absurdity I've been put through and start my renewed life free of any traumas or complexes that could plague me."
"Um. Okay. Whatever you say, boss." Pamela replied, her eyes glued to Harleen's mouth-watering posterior. Honestly, she didn't like to think of herself as anyone's "minion", not before this night. But she supposed as long as she got to have those wonderful, mind-breaking orgasms, and to ogle that flawless body, she wouldn't complain about being called whatever Harleen deigned to call her. Or about going along with any crazy plans she might have.
The irony wasn't lost on the telepath, who chuckled softly at the thought.
"At the very least, dear, now I can say I understand why that repulsive aberrant kept me along for so long. It can be quite exhilarating to one's ego to have one such as you around."
"Nothing, dear, nothing. We are here, at last."
Ive almost stumbled upon her friend... Boss, when she stopped suddenly in front of a particular cell. A mind-controlled warden opened the door remotely.
"Harley, dear! So good to see you, precious!" The Joker bellowed from inside the cell "Took you damn long enough to break me out of here. Honestly, I don't know..."
He stopped suddenly, widening his eyes at his sidekick's new... Old... Renewed appearance. But it wasn't surprise that interrupted the madman.
"Hmmm. Psychopathy. Schizophrenia. Sadism. Narcisism." Harleen muttered to herself, probing her former tormentor's mind with her own peerless one. "Nothing special, expect perhaps as how the interplay between the various disorders created a seemingly unique psychic blueprint." She cocked her head to the side, looking to the Joker as if he was a particularly intriguing new species of fish. "Why then, I felt so maddeningly attracted to you, I wonder? Perhaps my own fascination with amoral behavior, which my previous, limited self equivocally perceived in your seemingly random behavior. Yes, that. Coupled with my own sublimated masochism, a dysfunctional childhood with an even more dysfunctional family, and the stress of working among you all, it was too much pressure. My mind broke down, and you built a twisted monument to yourself with shards."
Harleen started to walk around the cell. The Joker's eyes, the only part of his body still under his control, tried to follow her, desperation shining through.Ivy just watched as her Boos played around with the biggest, meanest, madman in Arkham. She was so dreamy. And so great in the sack.
"And that is all... It feels... Positively anti-climatic, don't you think? After years of this dance, it all can be explained by the basest psychology. Such a pity. Even in this, you're a disappointment. Of course..." She continued as stopped in front of the Joker, fingers softly caressing his chest over his shirt. "There's the matter of... Revenge. An all-too human need even my superior mind falls prey too."
By now, the Clown King of Crime was completely terrified. It was an alien feeling to him, and Harley delighted in provoking it. His eyes darted from side to side, looking for an exit. He found none.
"You know, my first thought was to simply make you like this, forevermore. A prisoner in your own mind, perceiving all around you, but unable to affect one single thing. I would have fun watching your functional brain cave in under the torment." A predatory grin, not unlike a shark's, appeared in Harleen's mouth. "Fortunately for you, the admittedly brief, tough highly... Productive time I spent with my beloved Pamela over there..." Poison Ivy felt her pussy flood at being called the Boss' beloved. "...Gave me a new perspective on a variety of subjects. Thus, I've abandoned my original punishment if favor of something more... Hammurabic, which should be possible now, if I read the circumstances correctly."
"I wish the Joker was a dim-witted bimbo secretary without a shred of self-worth, ten times as obsessed with me as I was with him."
"Do you honestly believe that somebody's randomly granting supervillain wishes?" Mercy nearly shouted at the new arrival. "Like some kind of... Fucked up evil genie, or something?"
The ebony bombshell who had moments ago been Thunderball shrugged, her ripe tits jiggling. "Honestly, I don't know what to believe, sister. But I was a man just before I made my wish, and now I'm this, and I don't know of no mind control that can do this. It doesn't matter, tough. All that matters now is that I'm here, Mr. Luthor. Entirely at your service."
Lex laughed at that. "This just keeps getting better and better! Well, we'll have to test this "wish" theory, obviously, but for now, I'm going to enjoy this at the fullest. Obviously, before I accept your service, I'll need a sample of the wares to decide if you're worth the trouble." He patted Lois' head as she enthusiastically sucked his cock. "I'm used to the best, and I'll only use the best."
Thunderball smiled lasciviously. "Of course, sir." She dropped her ball and chain to the ground, ripping the bikini off in two fluid movements. She then put her arms behind her head, thrusting her gravity defying tits forward, nipples hard as diamonds, and spread her legs, giving Luthor a view of her her wet pussy and black curls. "Do I please you, Mr Luthor?"
Mercy observed, repulsed by the developments. It wasn't enough to have to compete with Lois, now she also had to outclass this random fucking bitch, and a lot of others who would surely follow if the wishing business was true. She made a face as her rival turned around and bent over to expose her asshole. Displaying her own body like a fucking piece of meat...
Which was, course, right and proper. As a Man, Mr Luthor was entitled to use the bodies and lives of lowly cunts them as he saw fit, and proper presentation was essential to a fucktoy like Thunderball. Mercy herself was a service slut: Her duties laid elsewhere, in protecting and driving Mr Luthor around and presentation was of secondary importance. Still, she straightened her posture, making a point of accentuating her tits and ass. Mr Luthor was a Man. He deserved the best.
"Punish us, Master! Whip us for our disobedience!"
"We bow before your cock, oh immortal master of women!"
"Fuck me, Lord! Abuse my unworthy body for your amusement!"
The incessant chorus of praise echoed through the throne room, as Dr. Psycho wept joyfully at the sight of two dozens of Amazon women debasing themselves before him. An entire lifetime of shame and ostracism finally paid off. Women finally understood their place. He wasted no time doubting or wondering what had come upon him. This was just the universe finally returning to it's natural condition. He stood upon the throne seat and spread his arms, basking in the worship.
"Yes! Yes! Howl for me, bitches! Howl for your master!"
He grabbed Circe's hair, forcing his cock into the willing witch's mouth. Terrified and aroused beyond all reason, she enthusiastically slurped at her Master's tool while vigorously fingering herself, elated at being chosen to serve as a cumdump. Following her example, the rest of the Amazons started to masturbate to the sight of their master using their sister, most of the guards using the spears handles as a poor substitute of the cock they so desired.
Unnoticed to anyone present, the throne room itself began to change. The multiple statues and wall tapestries that decorated it were substituted by ones more befitting the Amazons' new philosophy. Paintings that before pictured great moments of Amazon history, glorious battles and scientific breakthroughs that brought pride to Themyscira, now showed the mighty warrior women being used as chattel slaves through history, serving as beasts of burden, sextoys and even living furniture to short, ugly men much like their master - And serving blissfully. The statues of the great heroines remained, but where before they stood pride and defiant, now they were presented in varied states of defeat and subservience.
Most striking of all was the huge tapestry that covered the entire wall behind the throne itself. Before, it showed the birth of Paradise Island: A group of goddesses, floating above earth and sea, pointed the way to a ragtag army of women from all over the world, leading them to an archipelago of beauty and plenty where they would build one of Earth's greatest civilizations. The theme remained, but now, the centerpoint of the tapestry was Edgar Cizko himself: A titanic figure, standing on an anthropomorphic Themyscira. On his hands, he had a whip and a scepter, his face light up on a grin, gleefully lording over the goddesses of Olympus and beyond. The deities groveled before his cock, leading women from all over the world inn chains to the island beneath his feet.
As Dr. Psycho raped his foe turned slave mouth, he contemplated his future. This was just the throne room. He had an whole island full of them.
"YEEEEEEHAAAAAAAAAAW! Giddy up, horsey!" Glitzy screamed, riding Captain Cold's cock like there was no tomorrow. "Fuck, this is GOOD!"
Said villain just let her drive the pace as he mauled her perfect breasts. This had to be the... Sixth or seventh time they did it. The crazy imp was insatiable, demanding to do it in every possible position before fulfilling any of his desires. He should be exhausted by now, he knew, but the little minx was keeping him up and running with her magic.
Not that he was complaining. Fucking Glitzy was heavenly in a way beyond words for tridimensional beings like him.
"Fuuuuuuuuck! That's the stuff! I think I'm going to keep you as my personal human vibrator forever!"
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