Roommating update

Reluctantly, trembling with need and the effort of obeying him rather than her own insistent urges, Harley got down on her hands and knees.

“Not down there,” Bruce said, his coolly heated voice going straight to Harley’s pussy, as if preparing her for his cock. He ran his gaze to Ivy and Selina’s joined bodies. “Bend over the two of them. I’m going to fuck you on top of your friends.”

Harley did not even think to get up. She crawled on her hands and knees to add herself to the pile of the bitches Bruce had fucked mindless.

Bruce knew he had made his point already. Selina and Ivy were disabled, and Harley was in no state to do anything but tend to her own self-indulgent needs. He could’ve left anytime he wanted.

But the fact was, his cock was too stiff not to be put to use. He had to have a woman. If it wasn’t Harley, he would’ve revived Selina, or fucked her awake if she refused to come to. He’d at least have come all over Ivy. As disappointing as masturbation would be at the end of this foursome, covering two of the three Gotham City Sirens with his spunk made a warped kind of sense.

But what made even more sense—what truly held the potential to get him off—was fucking all three of them. And even though he’d already had Harley, he hadn’t finished the job. Hadn’t dominated her. Hadn’t made her submit to his cock.

And after Selina and Ivy had given in, the prospect of making Harley do the same thing was absolutely irresistible.

“Are you my anal bitch?” he asked.

Harley bent over Selina and Ivy in heavenly nakedness, her mind clouded with the memory of her two besties getting reamed by this man. Feeling their bodies, she couldn’t forget how ecstatic they had looked to be his sluts. And now she would feel the same thing as she held them in her arms, as she laid down on their bodies.

“Yes, you mudderfutter!” Harley slurred. She hadn’t drank anything, but the throbbing rush of heated blood to all her erogenous zones was making her dizzy. Her brain—never the first destination for her bloodstream—was now quite surplus to requirement. “I’m ya anal bitch!”

“No, you’re not.” Bruce stared down at her, her juicy little ass weaving and trembling in the air. His cock felt like it was filled with all the blood in his body. The tip spilled out precum like a leaky faucet. “Not yet.”

He got down behind her and pressed his cock into Harley’s asshole. It didn’t fit. He pushed anyway.

“Aaiiiiee!”

His thick member was only halfway in. Sweat boiled out of Bruce’s face. His body felt clammy all over. The throbbing in his aroused cock ached as he tried to push its last five inches into Harley’s tight ass.

“Bruce! Bruce! I’m a virgin back there!”

Bruce blinked, shocked. Joker hadn’t taken her anal virginity? And Ivy hadn’t? Not even Selina? He was stupefied—but his prick wasn’t. It jerked and jumped around, making Harley moaned as it twitched against the stranglehold her sphincter had on it.

He reached between her legs and easily found her fat little clit. Harley purred, vibrating intently as he rubbed it. He moved down to kiss her naked back, and as he did, he slid his fingers from her stiffening clitoris and onto the steamy folds of her sex. He fondled them, but kept going, circling over her thighs and waist until he pulled himself upright again and kneaded his hands into her buttocks. When he opened them up, there was the small, puckered opening of her asshole.

This time, Bruce worked his thumb into the tight little hole. Harley whooped with excited laughter as it circled her anus. Then she panted, feeling the full thickness of his thumb pushing into her asshole. After a minute, Harley was drooling, her mouth open and her tongue lolling out.

Harley’s lips quivered, tensing into a smile as Bruce’s wonderfully thick digit pushed into her slick asshole. She knew this was how being Bruce’s slut would be for her—delicious, exciting, like she was going on her honeymoon. She wondered how he’d look in purple. And how he felt about letting hyenas up on the furniture.

Bruce took away his thumb.

He replaced it with his cock.

“You’re real tight in there,” he said. “Can’t have my anal bitch being this tight…”

“Loosen me up, Brucie!” Harley moaned dreamily. “It feels good… keep going…”

By now, Bruce was fucking into her so hard that she and the bodies she was propped up on skidded across the floor. Harley scrambled to grab hold of something to catch herself, but all she found was a wastebasket. She turned it over before she could run into it and ended up with her head shoved into its contents.

Bruce fucked her hard, fucked her fast, his cock long and hard and ready to come. Harley moaned into the wastebasket with each thrust, her cries amplified and echoing around in the claustrophobic bin. She was getting sodomized for the first time, getting fucked by Bruce Wayne for the first time, and he was fucking her like he would never be with anyone ever again.

Even smelling that pastrami on rye sandwich she had thrown out yesterday, Harley thought it was so romantic.

She bucked her hips back to him. Bruce thrust into her. Their bodies slapped together. Harley couldn’t believe the proportions of Bruce’s cock as it fucked into her. It honestly felt like his prick was expanding her ass, opening her up like a carpenter’s wedge. It hurt, but not nearly enough for her not to love it.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK! Fuck my ass!”

Harley quivered and shuddered madly. Everything they were doing seemed particularly crazy. Getting fucked while bent over the fallen bodies of her friends, fucked in the ass for the first time by Bruce Wayne? But Harley liked how crazy it was. Or more precisely, she didn’t care, because she liked being fucked so much.

“Rrrghh!” Bruce roared, his balls erupting, forcing all his cum down his shaft in an explosion of fiery pleasure. His cockhead flared, pumping the semen into Harley’s bowels. It filled her, seared her, made her feel like everything inside her was on fire, an itchy fire that was consuming her cunt as well as her ass.

Harley grimaced, bearing down, her sphincter clenching and unclenching, but being used by Bruce’s cock regardless.

Bruce kept spurting his seed into that delicious tightness. Every drop of cum that was left in his balls shot from his cannon of an erection.

“Oh my God!” Harley gasped, then heard her words echo back to her. She would’ve said ‘echo,’ but the next thing she knew she was writhing around his sodomizing prick, in the deep throes of a powerful climax. Waves of burning enjoyment swept over her as Bruce pumped and jolted until his cock was finally emptied.

He rested inside her splayed hole, relishing the delicious sense of conquest. He had never shot so much cum in his life and he knew it had happened so depravedly now because he had just ass-fucked all of the Gotham City Sirens, all but Ivy, and he had at least thumbed through her—so to speak. It was one of the biggest thrills he had ever known.

Harley was still coming, screaming her head off inside the echo chamber of the wastebasket, twisting and jerking with the ecstasy rushing through her. “Ooooh! Ahhhh!” she cried as the greatest pleasure she had ever felt filled her up like the cum Bruce had stuffed her bowels with. It was all she could think about. And soon, she couldn’t even manage to think about that.

As Bruce pulled himself out of Harley’s ass, he heard her snoring resonating out of the wastebasket.

He shook his half-hard cock, working loose the dregs of his cum, which landed in flecks on Harley’s dimpled lower back. His ejaculation hadn’t been enough to overflow her ass as he’d done with Selina, so that was as much as he marked her. But it was enough.

When he’d come here the other night to interrogate Selina, it’d occurred to him that he had a golden opportunity to bug the Sirens’ hideout without them knowing. Once Selina had lost consciousness, the prospect became irresistible. He’d expected only to gather information on their plans before they committed crimes, but lucking—if that was the word to use—into playing Harley and Ivy’s boytoy had now given him so much more.

He had all three Sirens on tape. Getting sodomized. Begging to be fucked. Moaning about being his whores. And while Bruce wouldn’t stoop to revenge porn—horrible example to set for Damian—even an audio recording of some of their escapades would be damning. Ivy would lose her little feminist fanclub. Harley would he permanently estranged from the Joker. And Selina… well, the leather catsuit would be impossible to take seriously once people knew how much she liked to be dominated.

Going to Ivy’s laptop—as with many a hypocrite, she used an Apple—he went to the proper website and entered the proper codes to access the recordings. He quickly cut together a video file of them, closed out the link to his surveillance network, and set the video to play on a loop. Muted, so the Sirens’ rest wouldn’t be disturbed.

When they woke up, they’d discover it along with a sternly worded letter urging them to stop snatching drugged men off the streets, as well as putting a halt to their other antisocial behavior. If they did, the video would stay his little secret. If they didn’t…

Bruce didn’t elaborate. In his experience, bad people had much more elaborate thought processes when it came to making others suffer than good people. By leaving to their imagination what he might do with the footage, he’d surely be threatening them with a fate much worse than anything he could come up with.

And he could always tap into the cameras to see what they’d theorized about. It might give him some good ideas. He still had to deal with Talia al Ghul, after all…

***

A day later, Bruce was hastening down the steps of Lexcorp’s Gotham offices, on his way to his car. ‘Batman’ had delivered the ultimatum to the girls and ‘rescued’ Bruce Wayne. So far, he hadn’t heard anything from them, but then, they weren’t the most dangerous criminals in the first place, not these days. There was a reason he’d been tolerating having them all outside of Arkham and Blackgate.

He opened the door to his town car, seeing no need to inconvenience his driver by insisting on the man actually getting the door for him, and slipped into the backseat. And saw Harley Quinn, a chauffeur’s cap perched on top of her head, look back at him from the driver’s seat. “Where to, Mistah B?”

The other door to the backseat flew open. Selina came in one door and Ivy came in the other, sandwiching him between them. Both wore tightly buttoned trench coats, giving him irresistible ideas about how far the bare skin of their plunging necklines and naked legs went underneath their coverings.

“Haven’t you ladies learned your lesson yet?” Bruce asked. “I thought Batman handled you…”

“Relax, Brucie,” Ivy cooed, leaning over him with a hand bracing herself on his thigh. Her fingers squeezed pleasurably. “We’ve come to an understanding with the Bat. No more pheromones. Promise.”

Selina came in from the other direction. The hand she braced herself with was closer to Bruce’s groin. “But if we can’t be bad girls—well, not too bad—that frees up a lot of time for us.”

“Yeah, we need someone to do!” Harley piped up from the front seat, then snorted a laugh at her Freudian ‘slip’.

“Where’s my driver?” Bruce insisted.

“He’s fine.” Selina ran a stroking hand over his cock. “Ivy just gave him a little kiss and now he’s taking a little nap.”

“And now I want to give you a little kiss,” Ivy continued, rubbing her cheek against Bruce’s on the other side of his body. “But you won’t be napping anytime soon.”

“And I’ve always wanted to take a boy out to make-out point!” Harley cheered. “Never could when I was in high school—too busy studyin’!”

Both Selina and Ivy let out disbelieving guffaws.

Bruce considered it. It was two o’clock in the afternoon. He had some time yet before his nightly duties as Batman demanded him. He could be training, but this would give him plenty of exercise. And it would keep the Sirens out of trouble.

And what was the point of being in the idle rich if you weren’t idle—at least, idle for him—once in a while?

“Well,” he said, eying Ivy consideringly. “I never did properly fuck your ass, did I?”

Selina’s eyes lit up. Ivy gulped nervously. But her eyes lit up too. “And I am your anal bitch…”

Her hands began to pull her trench coat open. So did Selina’s.

“I get his mouth,” she purred. “He won’t need to call Ivy his whore—me and Harley can do that.”

Harley laughed approvingly as she stepped on the gas.