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“Feel anything yet?” Ivy asks with her third seductive kiss to Diana’s neck.
Diana shakes her head. She does feel something, but it’s just the same tingle of low-grade excitement she’s had since this whole thing started. It’s pleasant, very pleasant, to be settled on her girlfriend’s lap getting slow, open-mouthed kisses all over her neck and face…especially with Ivy’s vines wrapped gently around her bare midriff to keep her from falling off…but it’s not as if they haven’t already done things like that, plenty of times.
The point of this little test is to see if Ivy’s pheromones can affect Diana. So far, the answer seems to be a resounding no. “This isn’t going to be a success,” Diana insists, and then gasps as Ivy puts a little bit of teeth into it. She squirms in pleasure. She does like the biting, she’ll never deny that.
Harley giggles and squats in front of Diana. “Give her a bit more, babe. Maybe it just takes more pheromone power for, ya know. Sexy alien queens.” She runs her hand up Diana’s thigh, her tongue darting out to lick her lips.
Diana shivers at the touch of Harley’s fingertips against the sensitive inside of her thigh, a little moan escaping when the fingertips are replaced by a warm, lipsticked mouth. She’s going to be a mess by the end of tonight, pheromones or not. She can be sure of that.
Ivy licks a stripe up the side of Diana’s neck as her nails gently dig into Diana’s sides. Diana shivers again. She can feel tingles in her skin where Ivy’s nails press into her skin. “Is that…”
“Relax, sweetie.” Ivy nips at the crook of Diana’s neck. “It’ll happen. It always does.”
“But we’ve kissed hundreds of times—”
“Oh, honey. If only kissing did it, Harley here’d be permanently drugged into oblivion by now. It’s all…intentional.” She nuzzles Diana with her nose and breathes, low and hot, against her girlfriend’s skin. Diana feels butterflies growing in her belly at the feeling of Ivy’s hot breath on her sensitive flesh.
“I’m immune to aging and human diseases,” Diana points out breathlessly as Ivy drags her nails up and down her sides. She can feel Ivy’s nails, can feel the scratch trails left behind; she knows they’ll be instantly healed but knowing that Ivy would leave marks if she could makes her feel…things. “I can’t be hurt, remember? So— ooh —so it would follow—Ivy, ugh! —that I can’t be poisoned either.”
Harley giggles again as she toys with the hem of Diana’s shorts. Having shed her usual armor for a sports bra and thin biking shorts, Diana can’t help but feel vulnerable even if she knows she could easily fight off both of them if she wanted to. Her pulse picks up in speed. Harley playfully licks her knee. “Wanna bet, hon?”
Diana feels…something. Maybe. Her heart is beating a little faster now, something tingly and warm taking shape under her skin. But this is how she feels every time she and Harley and Ivy play… “I don’t bet. I know,” she insists, lifting her chin and trying vainly for some dignity.
But now she’s shivering. Again. But she’s nearly naked, and it’s probably just cold, she probably just forgot to turn on the heat in her apartment today. But if it’s just chilly in here, Diana wonders as Ivy’s vines tease the edge of her bra, why does she feel so flushed? “If I can’t be struck down by a gun,” she presses on, “then I certainly I can’t be poisoned with pheromones.”
She’s warm. God, she’s warm. Ivy’s vines feel cool against her skin. And why, Diana can’t understand, why does it feel like the room is tilting under her? She starts to demand that Ivy stop trying to stand up, but the tip of a vine appears before her mouth and, instinctively, Diana sucks on the tip. It’s nice. Tastes good. And she likes the weight of it in her mouth…
“Ohhh look at her eyes,” she hears Harley say gleefully. Teasing fingers slide under the edge of her shorts. Diana gasps softly, the vine slipping from her parted lips, as Harley tickles the inside of her thigh, at precisely the same time that Ivy scratches her again with those nails. Perfect nails, just long enough to give her a nice little sting…
“Oh,” she gasps. The pain of the scratch is so perfectly harmonious with the teasing pleasure of the tickles and it’s. Oh. It’s good. She realizes she’s laughing. One giggle bursts from her throat and then another. “That feels nice,” she says, her voice sounding oddly distant to her own ears.
“Give her another hit,” Harley orders, her voice quivering with barely suppressed giggles. “Give her more, babe. God, look at her.”
Diana feels the vines tighten around her waist. Feels a tongue flick the shell of her ear. “Turn your head, honey,” Ivy gently urges, and Diana does…only for her gasp of surprise to be cut off when a tongue pushes its way into her mouth.
The kiss is wet and filthy and absolutely delicious. Ivy tastes like sugar and ice, her tongue cool and sweet and as perfect as ice cream. Diana’s head spins and she tries to grab onto Ivy, to cup her face and pull her in, keep the kiss going…but her wrists are suddenly held in place and she feels…strangely weak…
She’s never had any trouble shaking off a grip before…
Harley’s giggling maniacally. “She’s feeling it, babe,” she crows. Diana realizes that Harley is the one holding her wrists hostage. She tries, again, to shake off her girlfriend’s grip but…it’s not that she can’t. It’s that something deep inside doesn’t want to.
It’s not like when she lost her powers to the wishing stone. It’s…calming. She could summon the strength to put Harley and Ivy on the ground if she wanted to. But she doesn’t. She feels too…warm. Too safe. Tingles of pleasure crawling over her skin with every breath. The sensation of Ivy’s vines is so delicious against her bare skin. She feels…human. Vulnerable, yet safe.
And she cannot. Fucking. Stop. Giggling. “I think someone’s about to eat her words,” Ivy purrs in her ear.
“I don’t want to eat, I want you to kiss me again,” Diana giggles, and then squeaks as one of Ivy’s vines dips into her belly button. “That tickles,” she whines, and then giggles uncontrollably because damn it, Ivy is tickling her again. A vine slides under the edge of her sports bra and teases her breasts. She giggles and moans and pleads, “Do that again!”
Harley’s laughter sounds far away. “Oh I shoulda brought my camera. She’s never gonna believe this when she comes down from the high.”
“Who says she will come down from the high?” Ivy’s tongue traces the curve of Diana’s neck, and Diana moans deep from the back of her throat. “Maybe I’ll just keep her like this forever. Maybe I’ll keep her drugged with my pheromones just like this, so she’ll never fight with those do-gooding Justice Leaguers again. Just keep her here with us, under my control…” The vines dance over Diana’s bare belly and she squirms in delight. “Would you like that, little princess?” Ivy whispers in her ear.
Diana knows she should be afraid. The things Ivy’s talking about could very well happen. And yet…she isn’t afraid. Because she does enjoy this, this feeling of warm helplessness. In danger, but still safe. Walking the knife edge between what she should do and what she needs to do. Isn’t that how she always is? And if she is how she always is, how could she possibly be controlled? “I’m not under your control,” Diana insists, even as she squirms under Ivy’s touch. God, those vines… “I’m perfectly—oh!—perfectly fi-i-ine…”
She can’t stop giggling. Ivy’s vines are playing with her belly and teasing under her bra, and Harley’s tickling and nipping at her thighs, and Diana feels overwhelmed and too happy to care that she must look so absolutely insane right now.
“Let it out, honey,” Ivy urges her softly, vines lifting aside Diana’s long hair so Ivy can kiss along the edge of her jaw. “You just relax, let it out. Feels so good, doesn’t it?”
It does. Letting out those loud, pitchy gasps of laughter; shaking all over because it tickles so much. It feels amazing. Diana is floating, her body warm and tingling all over, and her head feels like it’s full of spun sugar and her eyes won’t quite focus and she feels…she feels…
“Too much,” she breathes, and licks her lips. “I want…oh I want…Harley, please…”
“I got you, princess,” Harley coos, with a teasing kiss to the back of Diana’s knee.
Diana looks down and almost startles; her thighs are covered in—blood? No, lipstick, Harley’s lipstick. Harley isn’t holding her wrists anymore. Diana reaches out and pets the girl’s soft waves of hair. Her arm feels strange. Heavy. It’s not her own anymore. Vines, she realizes; her arm is too heavy so Ivy’s vines are holding her up. Of course.
She could let Ivy wrap her completely in vines, control her every move. She could just be a puppet, slack and easy and mindless in Ivy’s grasp, and be perfectly content just like she is now…could let Harley tease her and let Ivy control her, could just stay like this, relaxed and floaty and happy and safe.
She’d never have to fight again, if she didn’t want to. She could be like this. Not a warrior, not an Amazon. Human. Protected and happy and human. No longer bound to fight Ares’ influence. No longer a princess. Just. Herself.
The thought makes her heart ache. A moment later she feels herself lying back, feels something soft and pillowy underneath her. Something wet is on her face. A pair of warm lips kisses away the drops. Sweat? No, tears.
“I don’t want to stop,” she whispers, suddenly, painfully aware that the pleasurable tickles on her belly have stopped and that she’s no longer held captive by the vines. She suddenly feels…small. Small and painfully exposed. She can’t stop shivering. “Please don’t stop,” she begs, her heavy arm aimlessly reaching out for those comforting vines.
Almost immediately she finds herself wrapped in something warm and soft. Moments later an arm settles around her waist. A kiss against her forehead. A hand playing in her hair. “You’re okay, Di,” Harley’s voice soothes her. “You did good, princess. Relax.”
“But—” But if she stops she has to go back to being a goddess, and Diana doesn’t want to be a goddess right now, she wants tickles and cuddles.
“I think I overdosed her,” she hears Ivy mutter.
“It’s okay. She’s an alien warrior, Ives. That shit’ll work itself outta her system soon enough. In the meantime…” Diana feels the corner of a blanket lift, feels someone small and soft press against her. She immediately clings, her arms and legs wrapping around Harley like a lifeline.
“You’re safe, princess,” Ivy’s voice sounds from over her head. A hand rubs her back. “You just rest, honey. You’re okay. You did so well, yes you did…”
It’s undignified and unwarrior-like as hell, and if Antiope saw her do it, her mentor’s eyes would roll so hard they might become permanently stuck. But Diana doesn’t care. She cuddles her girlfriend like a teddy bear while her other girlfriend gives her the gentlest back-rub ever, and she closes her eyes and lets herself be human a little while longer.