Submission Crisis Tie-In: Wilting Ivy #1 (of 2)

Authors’ note: This story was inspired by “Submission Crisis: Gotham Sirens singing” by Pegasus (I suggest you read that first and then come back to this story). As many others, I have enjoyed his stories eagerly waited for a sequel for the DC side of things. When this wasn’t forthcoming, I decided to write my own (unofficial) entry into the story, focusing on what happened to Poison Ivy (who is my favorite Batman villainess). Enjoy.

(I) SAY MAY NAME: IVYS’ STORY

Her ears were ringing. She had been thrown bodily across the room, her fall only being broken by a plush seating cushion, that she had earlier thought to be like the stereotypical décor of a high-class brothel. Now she was happy for the small mercy of not being smashed head-first into the floor.

As she tried to rise, she felt some kind of weight around her wrists and a strange tingling sensation. In her haze she saw spots of lightning dance around her arms, but surely that was caused by a concussion, the blow she had been dealt must have been heavier than she remembered. She heard vague voices from the other side of the room “…slave.” and “…what…now?”.

She slowly realized that the second voice belonged to a woman and the first to… to that little creep she had confronted earlier! The bastard who had enslaved Selina and many other heroines and villainesses, who made them work for him in his disgusting escort service.

She had confronted him earlier, thinking she would be able to handle his brand of evil. She had easily dealt with Jervis Tetch – The Mad Hatter – who had tried to do something similar, using his mind-control devices. Ivy had put him in his place, easily taking over the criminal empire he had built for himself in the chaos following the Bats demise. Ivy was sure the kingpin running this slave ring would fare no better. When she was brought to him, letting him think she was in Tetchs’ power and exchanged for the enslaved heroine Zatanna, she was honestly surprised: he was very young, a mere boy in fact.

But, like all the men, this boy was subject to his urges and so he easily fell prey to her pheromones, thinking himself in power and ordering her to suck his cock – the nerve! Ivy had quickly overpowered him and had relished in teaching him the error of his ways, making him squeal and beg for mercy. Perhaps she had enjoyed this a bit too much, falling into the tired supervillain trope of ‘gloating’, and had not noticed the ambush before it was too late.

She didn’t know what had happened. Maybe the boy had a powerful ally or was really just the pawn of a more powerful villain, as she had suspected earlier. Ivy only knew, that she was in danger now, shaken and too beat up to put up much of a fight. She had to get away.

Forcing her body chemistry to release some mixture of endorphins into her bloodstream to dull the pain, as well as some phytochemicals to repair superficial damage to her body, Ivy struggled to get up…only to find that she couldn’t. While most of her body obeyed her commands, her wrists were still glued to the floor by some invisible force, not moving an inch from their place.

As Ivy blinked in confusion, trying to shift her position to gain better purchase, she heard the voice of the boy behind her, closer this time.

“What do you think happens now?”

She felt an icy vein of fear creep up her spine. Instinctively, her left leg shot out behind her, trying to kick at him, only to find she had misjudged the distance, her foot coming short by mere inches, only gently brushing his chest with her toes.

He lunged forward and grabbed her extended extremity, leveraging it up so she lost her balance, allowing him to move in and squat on her right leg, immobilizing that as well. She heard the muffled click-clack of high-heeled boots on the carpet and the next moment she felt her head being pressed down by a thin stiletto, forcing her to remain prostrate, ass in the air, bent over the cushion.

Painfully glancing up, she gazed up and saw thighigh boots and fishnet stockings, quickly realizing who had overpowered her. Zatanna had come back.

The boy had positioned himself between her legs, releasing her hold on her thigh, but keeping her legs spread with his body and pressing her ass forward, holding her rear in place almost as expertly as the magical bondage and piercing boot-heel of the witch was doing to the rest of her body.

Zatanna uttered a few incomprehensible syllables and Ivy felt a dull pain, as the plants making up the crotch-area of her living leotard started shriveling and falling away, Ivy screaming as she felt them die. She glared up at the bitch, swearing revenge in her mind. Though Ivy was vaguely aware that she had some kind of connection to the mystical realm called The Green, through her empathic link with all plant life, she still had limited experience with magic, preferring to avoid the people who dabbled in the dark arts. Her powers were more scientifically produced than magical and the unreasoning void of the magical world at the edge of her consciousness sometimes frightened her, as did those who wielded those powers.

She started, when she felt a hand come roughly down on her glute, producing a sharp pain. Then another blow, harder and more practiced. The boy had started spanking her! She gritted her teeth, determined not to give him the satisfaction of begging for mercy. The spanking continued, the boy alternating between her left and right glutes, picking up speed.

Worst of all, she felt his erection pressing against her lower crotch, feeling the moistness of his tip and dreading what she was sure was about to happen next.

When she felt his hands painfully grab her beet-red cheeks, spreading them and rubbing some kind of liquid against her anus, Ivys dignity finally broke.

"Naaaaooooo!! Don't do this!" she cried weakly „Please… I’ll do anything you say”. She let the words hang in the air for a moment, before finally voicing her fear, meekly adding “Please, don’t rape me!”.

He burst out in cruel laughter at her words, letting his hand slam down again on her cheeks, while she felt the other one furiously stroking his cock.

"Don't insult me, whore. At least have the decency not to beg to be spared. Not now. How many times have you heard the same pleading from your victims? And what good did it do them? What good would it have done me?" he berated her, punctuating each pause with a sharp slap.

She hung her head in defeat, a single tear escaping her eye. She pleadingly looked up to the female magician, looking for a sign of sympathy or pity, but found only a face of contempt and barely veiled lust staring down at her. Ivy knew she had lost, that whatever happened now was going to happen and that she was powerless to stop it.

The boy had stopped slapping her and spread her cheeks again, using his thumb to try and loosen up her tightly clenched anus. Ivy let out a primal scream, tried to squeeze her buttocks shut in reponse to his cock moving towards her tight back door, but all she did was his cock rubbing in between her clenched cheeks, slowly moving in deeper.

Ivy had never taken it in the ass, always considering this area of her body inviolate, and having it taken from her by force was too much too bear.

She began to babble incoherently, unable to help herself, as she felt the muscular ring of her anus being spread by the tip of his cock. "F-f-f-fuck you! Make it stop!! Get off me! Nooooooo!!"

He grunted, letting out a victorious roar as his cock tensed shortly, squirting some small amount of precum into her anal passage, easing her pain a bit, but also allowing him to move into her with less resistance. The liquid felt like hot lead on her inner flesh, lighting up her pain receptors and fighting against all the toxins already in her bloodstream.

"You would have sodomized me without mercy, without hesitation, Ivy." he spat at her, pushing further into her, not noticing her discomfort – or not caring about it “Tell me, how does it feel?”

All she felt was agony and shame. "Heeelp! Someone help meeeee!" she wailed, her voice rising to a feverish pitch as her body trembled in fear. As if following some invisible cue, Zatanna crouched down, letting one knee rest on each of her shoulders. The magician guided Ivys’ head forward, forcing her face into her crotch. Ivy could her shaved, dripping cunt – she was not wearing any panties below her fishnets – and heard a sucking sound, as she leaned forward to plant a sloppy kiss on the mouth of her rapist.

"Have some dignity, woman" he grunted, easing up a bit. He leaned back, sharing a wicked look with Zatanna, who who closed her legs and tightened her calves to lock Ivys’ head into place. Ivy was trapped between the witches athletic thighs, her mouth and nose breathing in that womans’ scent.

Just as she was distracted for a moment and didn’t think about trying to clench her nether regions, her rapist shifted his entire weight forward, ramming the length of his cock into Ivys’anal cavity.

Ivy let out a muffled scream into Zatannas snatch, feeling as if she was split in two. Her legs flailed wildly, desperately trying to find purchase, to dislodge her assailant, to run away – but he just grabbed her hips, lifting her pelvis slightly and thwarting her efforts.

Guiding her body, forcing her to move with him, he picked up a steady rhythm of thrusts, slowly but surely breaking her in.

Not wanting to be left out, Zatanna had furiously ground Ivys’ face into her crotch, only lifting it briefly to rip her fishnets, allowing Ivy unrestricted access to her pussy. When Ivy didn’t perform as expected, even when the witch literally tried to smother her with her pussy, Zatanna let out a frustrated shriek, screaming “’SIVY SENOMOREHP, ESAELER!”.

Suddenly, Ivy felt every pore in her body painfully widen, as the plant-based pheromones she routinely used to control people around her, were released in one quick burst, drenching the air in a miasma of fragrant smells, that quickly overtook her assailants and increased their pleasure a hundredfold.

The stress of release, combined with the constant assault on her ass and face, was too much on Ivys’ Ivys’ body. More so, the mental anguish of having the very thing she used to control men taken away, turned into an aphrodisiac for some perverts pleasure, leaving her spent and neutered in the process, was too much to bear. Being truly defeated in every way, having her body turned into a helpless fuck-puppet, finally broke her mind.

Sensing her defeat, the witch and the boy acted in unison, she reaching around for her breasts, squeezing her nipples, while he reached for her cunt, strumming Ivys’ clit and labia.

As Ivys’ body shuddered, so did the body of her rapist and he released a load of sticky cum into her bowels, painting her insides the same moment her own body betrayed her, causing her pussy to squirt a gushing torrent and her entire body to shake under the heaviest orgasm she ever had.

Her debasement continued well into the morning hours, but Ivy was only tangentially aware of it, her mind having wandered off, not in comfort, but in self-pity.

(II) PRELUDE I: THE JOB INTERVIEW

A lifetime ago. She still thought of herself as “Pamela Isley” back then. Good little Pam, attending college, trying to get a scholarship for a good University.

The douchebag facing her, in his comfy office chair, was called Dr. Jason Woodrue and as he was interviewing her, he was clearly checking her out. Pam wasn’t exactly surprised: she knew that while she wasn’t exactly a super-model, she still had a nice body – tall, with long legs and curves in all the right places, turning the heads of all the boys (and more than a few of the girls) ever since high school. Not that she dressed like it, bulky jacket, conservative skirt (if it hadn’t been for the interview she would have preferred baggy cotton pants) and her hair tied back in a simple ponytail. When she was younger had liked to “dress to impress”, and still did in some way, but she felt uncomfortable when men looked at her that way.

Sexual encounters were something Pamela had avoided for some time now. She had given up dating during her senior year, when her boyfriend at the time, a dumb jock named Chuck Marron, had clumsily forced himself on her behind the stands near the football field. She had considered pressing charges against him, but in the end calmly decided that it was not worth the effort. The police tended not to believe the victim of a rape, everyone knew she was dating Chuck and her reputation would suffer more from this than his would. Besides, she only had a few more weeks to endure in this dump, after which she would leave for a good college where she would never see him again.

She kept her mouth shut, avoided Chuck in the hallways and got to her graduation without a hitch. In college she mostly kept to herself, focusing on keeping her grades up and charting her plans for a future career, never attending any parties or other social events, if she could avoid it.

“You really want this internship, huh?” Dr. Woodrue smirked, forcing Pamela back to the present. “Yes,” she quickly recovered “botany has always been my dream. I’ve taken Dr. Legrands courses at Clover Park and have read the work of Sterns and Raven, even though they are not on the curriculum. I’m thinking about majoring in entomology once I get into Metropolis U. Having an internship at your lab would really help my application. I have read about your work in splicing plant DNA and feel like I could be helpful cataloguing the results.” She sat back, happy not to be taken aback by the creep and his overt leering.

“What would you be willing to do, to prove your… commitment…” another smirk, Dr. Woodrue sat back in a way that pushed out the crotch area of his corduroy pants.

Pamelas’ mouth dropped open in shock. Had this disgusting pig really just insinuated he would give her the job, if she had sex with him? The nerve! She eyed Dr. Woodrue, his lanky body and far from attractive face, covered in a patchy beard and acne scars from when he was younger. He really wasn’t what she was looking for in a man, she preferred the tall, dark-haired and muscular ones, everything that Dr. Woodrue was not. Was she really willing to go this far, just to get this internship?

She needed exactly three and a half heartbeats to decide. No. No matter how good this internship would look on her CV, it wasn’t worth giving up the goods to this weirdo. “I think… we want different things out of this interview, Dr. Woodrue. I have a stellar academic record and a commitment to science. It is a passion of mine, I even grow roses in my free time. But this does seem not to be what you in mind for me, so…sorry for wasting both of our time. Besides,” she added “I like girls.”

Not exactly a lie, she thought. She had had a short fling with another girl from her dorm, when they were both very drunk. The other girl, Lillian, had freaked out afterwards, forcing Pam to blame the whole thing on being drunk, never admitting that she barely had two beers and really liked Lillian (liking girls as well as boys was another secret she had kept during High School and during college – even though it wasn’t as taboo there –this charade had become second nature to her, so she kept it up out of habit).

“You seem to misunderstand me, Ms. Isley. I sometimes have trouble expressing what I mean… I apologize. I was merely referring to the fact that as part of the job, you would need to handle some extremely poisonous plant extracts, which can be really dangerous if they get into your system. I can’t supervise everything you do, so you’d have to be able to know which plants you can safely handle and in which cases you would need to take additional precautions. Also, you would need to sign a waiver not to take legal action against the lab, in case you are hospitalized or impaired in any other way as a direct result of not following our safety regulations.”

Pams face turned beet-red. Wow, I’ve really walked into this one, she thought. Had she so completely misread Dr. Woodrues’ intentions? She quickly decided to make up for it. “I’m willing to sign whatever you give me and you will find that I’m very capable to handle botanical specimens. You won’t have to supervise me at all.”

“OK, would you be up for a little test, then? I will show you some plants and you will point out the ones that are safe to handle. Does that sound good to you?”

“Perfect” Pam beamed “I won’t let you down.”

“We will see” Dr. Woodrue smirked, handing her a stack of papers “This is the waiver I talked about, as well as our NDA, please sign on page 4 and 17, then follow me to my lab.” He got up and slowly walked towards the door. Pamela glanced over the writing, then quickly put her signature in the required lines and hurried after Dr. Woodrue.

His lab was a mess, with pots of plants, lab reagents and research notes everywhere. Dr. Woodrue pointed to a side table, where fifteen plant specimens with leaves and petals had been neatly arranged. “So, Ms. Isley… closely look at those specimens and point out the ones, that can be handled safely.”

Pamela studied each plant closely, recalled her biology lectures, as well as the preparation she did for this interview. Finally she decided “Well, all of those plants are poisonous or venomous, but” she picked up a round leaf with a point “this one is clotho hyppolitia, which exudes a very mild paralyzing venom that only affects small insects and is safe to handle for humans, while this one” she picked up a stem with a red flower “is mirabilis accedia, used as an aphrodisiac among some South American tribes, but only has a noticeable effect in its distilled form – the amount found in an individual plant is not enough to produce an noticeable effect”. She put down the two plants and picked up a third one, a white petal shaped like a cup, “And this is myristica acuta, or ‘demons horn’, known to cause disorientation in small mammals, but again – an adult human would need to ‘accidentally’ eat a barrel of those petals to even notice anything – and even then they would probably not be impaired very much.” She smugly put down the third plant in its tray and faced Woodrue, happy with herself “Am I right?”

“Pretty much, Ms. Isley. But, I want to show you something else.” He pointed to another side of the lab, where a microscope was set up. Pamela walked over to it, looking at Woodrue quizzically. “Look at those trays and tell me what you see.” Pam did as she was told, paused for moment “Those look like chlorophyllic cells, semi-permeable and with additional thykaloids. I have never seen anything like that. What is it?”

“Actually, those are the specimens you handled earlier.” Dr. Woodrue had stepped behind her and was breathing in the nape of her neck. Pam felt a bit uncomfortable and flushed, but that might be due to the humidity of the lab. She didn’t want to accuse Dr. Woodrue of sexual misconduct again, when he had done nothing to deserve it.

“Using gene-splicing, I have extracted certain attributes of those three specimens, combining and enhancing them” He breathed at Pamelas neck “Now, all of them have venom that is absorbed by skin contact and the potency of each has been increased by a factor of about 100. You might have noticed a slight discoloration of the leaves and a different size of the petals, giving you a hint that those specimens were not the same ones as the ones found in nature, but you still were careless enough to handle them without gloves… rookie mistake.”

Pams’ head spun. How could she have been so stupid. She was so focused on impressing Dr. Woodrue, that she blindly assumed because she recognized those plants she could handle them safely. She staggered back from the microscope, causing her to back into Dr. Woodrue, his crotch rubbing against her ass.

“Don’t worry Ms. Isley… Pamela.” His arms grabbed her shoulders, steadying her. “While the effects of those plants are more potent after the modification, they are not fatal. I wouldn’t risk you being seriously hurt.” Pam breathed a sigh of relief, while shifting her weight again. Something was not right, she felt a bit woozy and the presence of Dr. Woodrue so close to her was extremely distracting. She felt a slight itch in her crotch, adjusted her weight again, trying to dislodge her panties which had rubbed in an uncomfortable way against her most private area.

“Still, we should keep you under observation for a while” he said, apparently not noticing her discomfort, gently pushing her towards a nearby stool, keeping his arms limp, so he pushed up against her back, their bodies touching again and again. He pushed her down on the stool and helped her out of her jacket, his elbow brushing her left boob. Pam felt a slight tingle – not uncomfortable, but definitely strange – and slumped a bit, letting out a small sigh.

“Oh, you seem to already be affected by the toxins in your blood” Dr. Woodrue smirked “They are designed to enhance each other, so as you are affected more strongly by one, the other ones will also start to have a stronger effect.” He rolled up the sleeves of her blouse, lifted her arms and dropped them, stroking her armpits “Can you still feel that?” Then repeating the process with her legs, her feet, removing her shoes. Finally he proceeded to hike up her skirt and massage her thighs, causing Pam, who was feeling more and more like she was suffering from a fever, to finally grow suspicious.

“I…I…think I would rather like to have female nurse check on me” she stammered. Woodrue looked up to her, smirked again… and his hand shot out below her skirt, quickly snaking its way into her panties and feeling for her vagina.

Pam was taken aback, instinctively tried to force her legs shut, leaving Woodrues face between them. He licked her thighs with relish, as his hand found her clit and started rubbing it, while his other hand tried to pull down her panties. Pam tried to push him away, but somehow, despite being at least 5 inches taller and way more athletic, she was unable to dislodge him from his crouching position between her legs. Worse, she felt herself becoming wet down there, the constant rubbing and licking of her erogenous zone definitely having its intended effect on her.

She desperately changed her tactic, instead of trying to push him away, she tried to shift her body on the stool, in a way that her back wasn’t against the table anymore. She hoped that this would allow her to back away from Woodrue, but as she shifted her legs to step over the stool, he felt them give way, causing her to crash legs-over-ass onto the cold linoleum floor of the lab.

Dr. Woodrue, deprived of his position of fingering her, but still clutching her ripped cotton panties, slowly stood up. “As I have mentioned before, the effects of the specimens enhance each other. For example, the more your body is affected by the aphrodisiac of mirabilis accedia, the more you will also feel the paralyzing effect of clotho hyppolitia – in short” he started removing his trousers “the more aroused you get, the weaker you become.”

“You…you bastard” she stammered as she tried to get to her feet “you gave me a rape drug.”

“Nothing so crude,” Woodrue said “I merely found out what most scholars have known all along: that the flesh is weak and subject to the whims of nature. As evidenced by you.” he pointed to the wet spot on Pams panties before casually throwing them at her “You bitches always act so superior, never giving me the time of day, but if reverted to your true place in nature, you are nothing more than guinea pigs that are subject to my every whim!”

He finished removing his own pants and Pam gasped when she saw the erect cock between his legs, covered with sores that looked a bit like what you would get if your skin touched poison ivy. She tried to crawl towards the door, only for him to take a few quick steps forward, grab her by the hair and yanking her up forcing her to face him and then backing her against one of the lab tables with his body. Unable to move or push him away, Pam screamed, trying to get help.

“I would quickly forget that. This is my very own private lab – no one works here but me and my assistants, who I gave the day off. One of the perks of being recognized as a genius.” He pulled her skirt up, exposing her dripping womanhood. She ineffectually tried to punch his chest, but found that she had no leverage and her blows were weak, barely bothering him.

Still, he decided to take care of her flailing arms, by spinning her around, grabbing the arms of her blouse and tying them together in the front, trapping her arms like in a straightjacket. Then he pushed her down with one hand clamping on her swan-like neck, while the other one moved towards her raised ass and started inserting two fingers into her dripping vulva.

Pam let out a screech of frustrated lust, as the cruel digits started rubbing her sensitive inner channel, quickly locating the areas that caused the most intense reaction from her and steadily closing in on her G-spot. Woodrue felt her body stiffening and let out an appreciative whistle, concentrating on the area he has just maltreated. When he felt that Pam was close to climaxing, he withdrew his hand, causing a small moan of disappointment from her.

She felt her legs giving way, her body only supported by the table and the weight of Woodrue still pushing against her. She lay there, unable to move, exhausted by her ordeal… when she felt Woodrue shift position and the erect cock that had before been pressed against her left glute, move more to the center of her body.

She started panicking “Please, don’t do this. Anything but that. Please. I will do anything” she cried, causing Woodrue to erupt into maniacal laughter “Of course you will do anything. Not that you have any choice in the matter. You still don’t understand your place in this: you are nothing, bitch, nothing but my plaything.”

A single tear ran down Pamelas cheek, as she realized the truth of his words, realized the trap she had unwittingly fallen into. It was not the first time she was a victim, not the first time she was targeted by a male predator preying on her innocence. But while her first rape had been a crime of opportunity and passion, this predator had coldly lured her in, taken away any chance of escape and manipulated her in a way that made her be the one who chose her own downfall.

As she felt his probing cockhead against her moist labia, she prayed that it might be over quickly.

To be continued…

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