Chapter Text
Dave felt so goddamn smart. The smartness he felt was almost equaled by how dumb he felt for not thinking of this sooner. After three weeks of being a captive of Gotham's terrible trio, the Gotham City Sirens, he had finally come up with a way to escape.
Now, hornier and stupider friends of his might say he was insane for trying to leave his current predicament; being at the mercy of the three most attractive women in the city. In truth, being held captive by a trio of supervillains, smoking hot ones or not, was not the horror show he had feared it might be. Harley wasn't using him as a punching bag, Catwoman wasn't torturing him, and Poison Ivy wasn't experimenting on him. He was just being hypnotized into being their manservant. Grocery runs, cooking, cleaning, hyena care, litter box cleaning, plant watering, massages, and the occasional heist assistance. For the most part it was all downright domestic.
There was also the way they would refresh their hypnosis over him, Ivy's signature weapon; lipstick kisses.
That's right, at least once every day, at least one of these gorgeous women would give him at least one kiss with Ivy's hypnotic, and comically transferrable lipstick. It's likely at this point you're thinking “yeah, Dave's a fool for even considering escape.” This is where I have to offer the cons to accompany the aforementioned pros.
He had no freedom, even his thoughts were occasionally under the sway of the Sirens which was a hell all its own. His room in the Sirens’ hideout was decent, but it started feeling like a jail cell after about two hours. The food was bland and repetitive at best. He'd been shot at least four times by the GPD, and that number would only climb. And perhaps most perplexing of all; the kisses were not as enjoyable once the Sirens started getting… patronizing.
He had assumed their condescending words, thinly veiled as baby-talk adoration, was the type one would use for a boy-toy, sugar baby, or even arm candy if he was feeling particularly full of himself. But it eventually dawned on him that they were speaking to him as though he were their pet, which he kind of was. That dehumanizing element put the nail in the coffin for the chances of this situation being worth it, and so escape was his objective.
So now here he was, crawling through the ducts of the Sirens' hideout following what few vague clues he could to find his way to freedom. He recalled spotting the conspicuously reachable air vent in his room with some mirth. One would think that a group featuring an acrobat and a literal cat burglar would have some sort of defense mechanism in such crawlspaces, but no such system was present, just the occasional sprouting of plant life. Man, they really should clean this place up. He thought, leading to a much less benign idea: what if they didn't have any security here because Catwoman used the vents herself?
That possibility, coupled with the heightening claustrophobia, was enough to put a bit more energy in his movements. He had to concede that they were treating him pretty well, and getting caught pulling a stunt like this might convince them to stop playing nice.
As he came to an intersection in the narrow, metallic passageways, he heard the telltale tone of city traffic. He was close! He felt his ankle catch on something, probably a loose screw he hadn't noticed. It wasn't the first time, but just a little more crawling and it would be the last one!
He shook his leg a bit to try and free himself. Huh, still stuck. He shook again. C'mon, let go. He shook again. Stubborn son of a bitch, aren't ya? He shook again, harder this time. Jesus, did it tear a hole in my pants or some-
Before he could finish the thought, he was jerked back by his apparently-not-stuck ankle by an unseen force. Dave screamed instinctively as he was pulled back through the ducts with unsafe force, his body being slammed and slung against walls and corners as the mystery captor clearly paid no mind to his wellbeing.
Eventually, the banging stopped and he shook his head to try and stop it from spinning. Finally orienting himself, he found he was suspended in the air by prehensile vines that trapped his arms to his sides. The vines held him over a room he was all too familiar with, and one currently occupied by its tenant.
“Well now, what do we have here?” Caught between blanching in horror and blushing from arousal, Dave's face remained its usual color, but his features resembled that of a deer in headlights. “Here I thought the Bat had finally slipped up and tried something stupid,” Poison Ivy said as she turned around in her floral chair on the far side of the room, “imagine my surprise when it's just our favorite silly little fool~”
Poison Ivy was, as ever, a living provocateur of lust. Flawless emerald green skin, silky, vibrant red hair, a curvaceous figure and a voice that truly lived up to her title of Siren. Over her hourglass figure, she wore a skintight black two-piece with openings over her hips and cleavage that resembled thick leafage. And, most alarming, her plump lips were a shade of green that was just a tad darker than the rest of her skin and noticeably shinier. She was wearing lipstick, and she never wore regular kinds.
“So tell me, petal, what were you doing crawling around the vents?” She asked, a notable hint of agitation worming its way into her tone.
He had to be careful, of this much he was sure. He had already let it slip that the last hypnosis had worn off; he wouldn't do anything the Sirens hadn't told him to do while under their influence. Two objectives: have her release him from the vines, and try to keep her from kissing him. “Oh well, y'know uhhh…” he looked around the room, desperate to avoid eye contact and/or staring at her boobs. “I was a bit bored and I guess I let the intrusive thoughts win! Heheh…”
She giggled as well. No way she bought it, but at least she didn't seem angry anymore. “Sweet little David,” she invoked his full given name, something she'd forced him to admit he found hot, “always doing something aren't you?” She got up and started to strut slowly toward him. “You never let my darling children go thirsty for even a minute. The girls are ever so grateful as well, but it seems we need to give you more tasks to keep you occupied, hm?”
No way. Did she really think he was still under their influence? “W-Well, that probably wouldn't hurt, m’- Ms. Ivy!” He hoped she didn't question his stumbling words. “Maybe I could do some cardio! So I could help you out faster, or be able to outrun the cops!” He gave an almost honest smile.
“Oh, I do love your enthusiasm, but I already have something in mind.” She strutted back to her desk and fiddled with something he couldn't see “Do you know what it is?”
“Uhhh… A new fertilizer recipe?” He guessed, hoping that was sufficient enough a punishment for his transgression.
“A good guess,” she said, turning back to him, a tube of green lipstick hovering by her mouth, “but not quite.” The sight made Dave's stomach drop. “You see, I've developed a new lipstick formula, and I need to test it out to make sure it's ready for its official debut.” She capped the tube and walked back toward him with mocking slowness. “And it just so happens that my favorite little guinea pig would drop in for a visit~”
“N-No, w-wait a second here…!”
“Oh, what's wrong? A grown man scared of a kiss? How adorable~”
“No no no no! Not again!” He whimpered, struggling vainly against the vines as his captor closed the distance.
“Don't worry, David.” She assured in a voice just above a whisper. “I'll be gentle~” She pulled his forehead down toward her.
“Nononono…”
“Mmmmm… *chu*” She pulled back, admiring the full, green imprint of her lips on his forehead before looking into his eyes which were already clouding over.
“N-Nuh… N…N…”
“What's the matter petal? Mwah~” She left a mark on his left cheek. “Something you'd like to say? Mmm…*chu*” Another kiss marked his right cheek.
“...” She smirked as she saw his mouth hang slightly open and his eyes look at nothing in particular.
“On your knees, pet.” She ordered with a casual tone as her vines released Dave, making him land face first on the floor. Almost immediately, he was up, now on his knees, looking up at her with an expression of awe.
“How may I help you, Ms. Ivy?” Dave said, all nervousness in his voice replaced by prim, enthusiastic, eagerness.
“Tell me, what do you desire right now, more than anything?”
“I desire a kiss from you, Ms. Ivy.”
“Well, I am nothing if not an accommodating mistress~” She said playfully as she leaned down to capture his lips in yet another kiss. His arms went slack and her hand on his chin made a notable contribution to keeping him upright.
She ended the kiss and reveled in the sight that greeted her. First was the green stain on his lips, second was the pinhead-sized green glow that inhabited his pupils. It was the sign she was looking for; when she sunk her claws this deep into someone they were more than her plaything; they were her puppet. An extension of herself that she could manipulate with the barest of effort.
“On your feet, pet.” She ordered, and Dave was standing before she could finish uttering the patronizing nickname. She then threw an arm around his neck and hefted herself up, letting Dave catch her in a bridal carry. “Now then, I have a fabulous idea for how to reward such a good boy. Are you interested?”
“Very much so, Ms. Ivy.”
“Hmhmhm! Excellent~ Come now, into the bulb we go!” Dave did just that, carrying his gorgeous green captor into the massive bulbed flower she used as a bed. With an elegant curl of her fingers, the petals of the massive flower curl shut, putting the pair out of view from prying eyes. However, any pair of ears in the vicinity could hear the amorous storm the villainess was unleashing.
Mwuh *chu chu chu* How lovely Mmmmm… *chu* Now right about… *chu* Mwah! Hahaha! Who's the silliest little fool in all of Gotham?
I am, Ms. Ivy.
The rustling of foliage announced the return of two of Gotham’s most chaotic trio. Harley Quinn kicked a massive leaf that folded away undamaged. She giggled at her own silliness and put her signature baseball bat in the old umbrella holder she had picked up a few months back. Behind her strolled in Selina Kyle, better known as Catwoman, carrying a shuffling bag of jewels and gemstones. She was clearly less than enthused about one thing or another.
“Ivy! I need you to have a word with your walnut here as soon as you can!” Selina called out into the renovated warehouse the ladies used as their hideout. “She needs to be taught the difference between distraction and destruction.”
“Oh don't be such a sourpuss, Kitty Cat!” The nut in question said as she skipped around the room. “You still got enough shinies to buy out one of the more posh shops on Broadway!”
“And if you hadn't used all that dynamite, I could have gotten enough to buy out all of Broadway!”
“Ew, even the Jimmy Johns?”
“Yes, even the- wait, is there a Jimmy John's on Broadway?”
“Dunno, lemme ask Red. Reeeed!”
“Wait a minute, don't change the subject!” Selina said as she followed her clownish compatriot through the hideout. A scandalized gasp put a very brief hole of anxiety in her gut before-
“Red, it's my turn to paint our favorite mook!” Selina rolled her eyes and walked in on the scene she had to hold back a laugh at the goofiness of.
On the massage bed Selina had conned some fool out of last year, laid Ivy, wrapped in a towel of fronds and as relaxed as could be. Standing over her, working his magic on her shoulders, was Dave, the group's manservant. His usual casual duds were gone and replaced by a thong and brassier of seaweed. If his average build didn't already make him look like Jimmy Kimmel trying to recreate The Birth of Aphrodite, the cosmetic job Ivy has apparently done to him was enough to make Selina's gut ready to bust.
Seemingly every inch of his headshot was coated in Ivy's telltale green kiss marks. Three across his forehead, one on the nose, at least three on each cheek, one on each temple, one over each eye it seemed, a dense smattering around his neck, and a chaotic overlapping of marks across his lips.
For one reason or another, Pamela had decided to really do a number on the poor guy.
“Hm? Oh Peanut, you're back!” Ivy said, momentarily removing the cucumbers from her eyes. “I had a feeling you'd appreciate my handiwork on David here.”
“Red, we've been- Well yes, this is the funniest thing you've done all month- But we've had the rotation for who's gonna reapply Dave's hypno thingy for months now! And it's absotootly my turn!”
“Oh Harley, I'm sorry for cutting in line, but I have to tell you what our favorite little thing did this morning.” Ivy continued blindly, the cucumbers still on her eyes while Dave proceeded with the massage. “I was working on my new formula for the hypnosis lipstick we use, right? And I'm hearing some clanging coming from the vents so I figure it’s either the Bat or his little helper, right?” She continued as her partners found seats on a couple of the room’s couches. “So I get my plants in there to bring our unwelcome guest to me and who does it turn out to be?”
“Dustin Hoffman?”
“So close Peanut, but it’s Dave looking like a fly caught in a trap”
“I never knew he had such a cat burglar’s spirit in him.” Selina purred.
“I was thinking the same thing, and I did want to let you have a go at him, but I just couldn’t wait for you two.” She felt above her for Dave’s neck and dragged him down for another kiss on the lips before shoving him aside, making him fall to the ground. “And knowing just how devious he could be, I couldn’t just leave him idle without some of our love. We might have another Bat on our hands.”
“Oh alright, I forgive you, Pammy.” Harley relented with a pout.
“Oh don’t be so glum, Peanut.” Ivy cooed as she sat up on the bed. “I’ll give you my next turn as an apology. Sound good?”
“You’d do that for little ol’ me?!” Harley gasped with sparkles in her eyes.
“For you, my dear,” Ivy said as she got up and began to straddle her favorite clown on the couch, “I’ll do anything~”
“Alright, I can tell when to clear out. C’mon Dave, let’s go see how you look in leather~” Selina said as she walked out of the room.
“Yes, Catwoman.” Dave droned as he got up and followed her, leaving the happy couple to their affections. Dave would suffer the indignity of Selina’s game of dress-up, Harley’s cartoonish ‘mwahs,’ and Ivy’s demeaning monikers for at least another few days. He would sigh in anguish if he didn’t have to tell Selina how good he thought he looked in a garish black leather bodysuit.