Something clinks as Poison Ivy tries to move her wrists. What feels like cold metal encases them. And she can't see, pitch black wrapped over her head. Nostrils flare as she tries to take in the scent of her surroundings but all she gets is cloth covering antiseptic and metal. She's comfortable at least, lying down on something soft. She sits up, slowly, listening to the dead quiet around her. Against her skin is not the leaves to which she's become accustomed but rather soft, loose-fitting cotton.
Finally she dares to bring her arms up to the hood covering her head. Still no sound around her so she tugs it free. The revealed space is cold, metallic and bare. It's a solid-steel room, no trappings save for the bed she's sitting on.
She slowly scans the space before twisting around to take in a figure even colder than the room, standing directly behind her making nary a sound.
"They must have remodeled Arkham," she coos.
"This isn't Arkham," the Batman growls.
She bends over, tries to crawl towards him on all fours. "I suppose not," she says. "Would this be your own private asylum then lover?"
He steps forwards, grabs at her arm and lifts her up again to a kneeling position, stopping just short of using enough force to cause pain.
"Understand one thing, Ivy, we are not lovers."
Ivy smiles, giggles loudly. "You were an abstinence-only child, weren't you Batman?" She leans forward, chin tilted towards his black-clad jaw. "Perhaps you need a lesson on the birds and the bees." Her mouth move towards his and he closes the distance. Their lips meet furtively at first but then they began to explore, tongues brushing for a moment before he draws back again. Ivy reaches towards him only for the jet-black cuffs on her wrists to fall to the floor with a clang.
"I suppose those stealth techniques are good for more than just fighting," she says. He doesn't respond, so she presses on. "So, if we're not lovers, then what are we? And what am I doing here...lover?"
"This is a secure location," he offers. "I sedated you back on the rooftop and brought you here. That's all you need to know."
"And what might you need, Batman?" But Batman is done talking. His hands reach out and with a single gesture rip the gown covering Ivy's torso open. Her breasts have barely splayed out before he finds one with his tongue, pushing her down on the bed as sucks. "Mmmm" is all Ivy manages before he releases her nipple and brings his mouth to hers. They kiss as she folds herself around him, surrendering to his firm, powerful grip.
She feels a gauntleted hand easing itself down her pants, the cold of the armor rubbing against her pussy. She breaks the kiss and arches her back, rocking and moaning with the novelty. "And you're even good with your hands," she manages. After a few moments his hand pulls back from her folds. She looks up, willing a pout to come to her face but there's no need. He's slid down on the bed and has started to yank the pants down. She lifts her hips up and he pulls them off.
She's naked before him, her curvy, toned body fully visible in the harsh artificial lights. Her breasts twitch up and down as she draws breath, eyeing the Dark Knight as he stands there for a moment. What's going on behind that mask?
He stares at her for a moment more before he starts to tear at his armor. One piece falling to the floor after the next. Ivy finds her clit with her hand and starts to rub as the black-folded creature becomes human once again, full of flesh and bone and rock-hard need. In another moment the mask is once again the only thing separating them. "You could take that off, you know," she says.
"And you could give up a life of crime," he replies before climbing on top of her. Their lips meet. Her hand finds his cock and his finds her ass, both gripping tightly as they rub against her, neither ready to start fucking.
He bats her hand away and rubs himself against her crotch, still careful not to penetrate her just yet. He withdraws from her mouth again and rests his cheek against her neck, rocking against her with a little more speed in each moment. She starts to moan. "Give me your tongue," she says.
He pulls back from her neck and a hand grabs her behind the back of her head, forcing her gaze to his. "Beg," he growls.
"Nnnoo," she moans.
His mouth trails down and starts to nibble at the wonderful fat of her breasts, one and then the other before his lips find her nipples and suckle once again, his hips still rocking forward and rubbing against her pussy. She needs his tongue and his cock but she can't give him the satisfaction...
"Ahh," she says.
