Chapter 1: Introduction
It had been a hard year for villainy in gotham city.
The Bat had been on a rampage, cleaning up the streets, and Catwoman's usual gigs had dried up like a fucking desert.
Harley and Ivy, well, they'd been laying low too, their usual antics too risky with the Dark Knight sniffing around every corner. We needed a change, a new game, something that would keep us in the black and out of the clink.
That's when it hit me, like a fucking mallet to the head. An erotic massage parlor. We'd use our unique skills to give these rich pricks an experience they'd never forget. Harley, with her insatiable appetite for cock, would be our main attraction. Ivy, with her plant powers and that fuck-me-now green hair, would be our madam, running the show and squeezing every last penny out of these bastards.
And me, Catwoman, I'd bring in the clients, my feline grace and fucking irresistible charm drawing them in like moths to a flame.
We set up shop in an old, abandoned brothel under the city. The place was a fucking dump, but Ivy worked her magic, and soon it was transformed into a den of sinful pleasures. Velvet curtains draped the walls, casting the place in a dim, erotic glow. The air was thick with the scent of incense and the hushed moans of our first customers.
Harley was in her element, prancing around in a fucking tiny, red and black corset that left little to the imagination. Her tits were spilling out of the top, and her ass was barely contained in the short skirt. She was a fucking walking wet dream, and she knew it.
"Alright, boys, who's ready for a little fun?" she purred, her eyes scanning the room. She spotted a guy in the corner, his eyes wide with lust as he watched her. "You, handsome. Come here and let me show you what we're all about."
The guy, a middle-aged businessman with a wedding ring glinting on his finger, hesitated for a moment before standing up and making his way over to Harley. She grabbed his hand and led him to one of the massage tables.
"Lie down, sugar. Let's get you nice and relaxed." He did as he was told, his eyes never leaving her body. Harley climbed onto the table, straddling him. She leaned down, her tits brushing against his chest, and whispered in his ear, "You like that, don't you? You like a real woman on top of you, grinding on your cock?"
He groaned, his hips bucking slightly. Harley chuckled, a low, sultry sound. "Oh, I think someone's excited. Let's get you out of those clothes, shall we?"
She sat up and began to unbutton his shirt, her fingers brushing against his skin.
He shivered, his breath hitching in his throat. Harley smirked, loving the power she had over him. She pushed his shirt off his shoulders, revealing a hairy chest. She ran her hands over his pecs, pinching his nipples lightly. He gasped, his cock twitching in his pants.
"Oh, you like that, don't you, you dirty boy?" she cooed, her voice like velvet. She leaned down and took one of his nipples into her mouth, sucking and biting gently. He groaned, his hands reaching up to grab her tits. She slapped them away, hard. "Uh-uh, sugar. Hands to yourself.
This is my show, and I'm the fucking ringmaster." She sat up, her eyes flashing with dominance. The guy nodded, his hands falling to his sides. Harley grinned, her eyes locked onto his. "Good boy. Now, let's get you naked, shall we?"
She reached down and unbuckled his belt, her fingers brushing against his hard cock. He groaned, his hips lifting off the table. Harley chuckled, a low, dirty sound. "Eager, aren't you? Let's not rush things, sugar. I want to draw this out, make you beg for it."
She slowly unzipped his pants, her eyes never leaving his.