"Hmm," Harley tilted her head, tapping her chin with a finger while her eyes flicked over Omen's cock tenting his pants. "Lemme think here... oh! What about... Harley Hole? Y'know, cause every hole's a party hole!"
Omen's smirk stretched wider. "Good enough. Next," he said, voice low, eyes locked on Harley's tits, "obviously, we're fucking raw."
Harley snorted loud and waved her hands like he'd just insulted her clown lineage. "Whoa whoa whoa—raw?! What kinda horny hitchhiker do you think I am? Only Mistah J gets to fill this oven, capiche?" She folded her arms but didn't move an inch away from him, her pout theatrical and puffed-up. Then, in a softer grumble, she mumbled, "Even if he ain't... actually... ever dipped the cannoli."
"Nine million," Omen said flatly, cutting her off.
Harley froze for half a second, then blinked fast like her brain needed to catch up while her fingers tensed and clawed around the seat cushion.
"And you'll suck my cock and flash me on command," he added, "anytime I say. No questions and certainly no hesitation."
"Excuse you?! Flash you? Like I'm some kinda tit vending machine?! What is this, a porno or a hostage situation?!" Her eyes widened like dinner plates, gesturing dramatically at the air like she was yelling at a ghost. "You can't just toss demands at a girl like she's on the dollar menu! For your information, this clown got a college degree! A real one at that!"
"Also, how would that even work? This isn't an indefinite contract, you bozo, how can I even trust that you will keep up your word now that—"
"Eight million dollars" Omen interupted her, and Harley looked like she was about to launch herself at Omen at any second now as she stared him down, of course Omen wasn't intimidated even in the slighets, even if he hadn't modified his body yet, the law prevented any damage to be meaningful in any way, even if he let Harley attack him.
Omen warped reality so that the lower his offer went, the more excited and horny Harley would get about each further offer, and almost instantly, Harley's interest and lust spiked, as the change gradually came to effect.
Her eyes were now looking at Omen with modest interest, now focusing on his body, and more importantly, on his big and girthy cock, making a tent on his pants. "Ugh," she groaned, shifting in her seat. "Fine. But ya try any freaky-ass alien junk and I swear to God I'll turn your balls into wind chimes."
Omen continued after changing reality, "Obviusly, there will be threesomes with some heroes and villains, specially Poison Ivy," Omen said as Harley rolled her eyes as if dismissing him, "Ugh, fine too, long as she gets the good end of the strap-on rotation," Harley huffed, rolling her eyes, tossing her pigtails with a flick of her head. "God, Ivy's never gonna let me live this one down…",
"And right now, I want you to get on your knees and stuff your face into my crotch, and burn the scent of my dick into your mind"
Harley's eyes twitched at the humiliating words, but she didn't want another million cut off her payment, she sank down to her knees with a theatrical groan, dragging her fingers down his thighs like she was mocking herself the whole way. "eight mil, eight mil, eight mil," she chanted under her breath, her face now inches from the thick tent in his pants, sticking her face directly into his crotch, her face hovering right over his bulge, her breath warming the fabric.
One hand landed on his thigh, the other instinctively lowering to her own crotch as if debating whether or not it was a good idea to masturbate now.
She could feel how his cock was rock hard, and the scent slapped her face as she smelled his cock, clogging up her senses, leaving her faintly shivering in that position, her nipples growing diamond hard as she stayed still in that position, clearly enjoying herself.
"Jesus…" she mumbled, nose pressed deep into Omen's cock as if it were the softest pillow she had ever been on. "This thing's like a baseball bat, you smell like Batsy after a sewer fight with Killer Croc... only way less moldy."
She stayed there, nuzzled up to his cock, not moving, just breathing the scent while her hips swayed slightly behind her, her ass sticking up in the air, suit pulling tight over those cheeks. Her nipples poked sharply through her outfit, and her tits jiggled a little with every breath.
"You're gonna dress exactly how I tell you to," Omen said as Harley hovered over his cock with nose brushing the bulge.
"I-I told ya this wasn't forever," she mumbled, still staring at the monstrous shape, her voice shaky, but her eyes wide like a moth in front of a flame as she gave it another long, slow sniff. "But... damn..."
"Six million dollars," Omen said flatly, looking out the window like the number didn't mean anything. Harley whimpered, her thighs squeezing together as the heat between her legs pulsed harder, every time the offer dropped, her body got hotter, needier, and her thoughts fuzzier.
"B-but I thought it was a mil per 'no'—ain't that what you said?!" she whined, practically grinding her face into his lap again, sniffing at his crotch again, making her lips twitch and her fingers digging into his thighs like she couldn't stop herself. "You can't just change the rules mid-fuckin' game!"
"Five million off for backtalk, I never said anything about a pattern, and from now on, you have to swallow my cum," Omen interrupted her, moving aside her jester cap and grabbing a fistful of her blonde hair and yanking her head up, dragging her face to the tip of his cock, still hidden under the fabric. "Do you agree?"
Harley nodded fast while her mouth fell open and her tongue out before she could think. Her breath hitched, and drool started to slip from her lips onto the tent in his pants, soaking it as she panted like a bitch in heat.
"Now," Omen said with his voice steady, "I'll make you a deal: If you let me spank your ass whenever you disobey—until I decide it's enough—I won't drop your price again, at least for now."
"Yuh—yes, okay!" Harley blurted, nodding wildly, she couldn't take her eyes off his bulge, her thoughts were gone, melted down to cock and cash. She could barely think straight, and all she could imagine was how thick and warm it'd feel inside her mouth and how heavy it'd be on her tongue.
"That doesn't cover if you try to refuse something," Omen added, grabbing the front of his pants and smearing the thick precum leaking through the fabric all over Harley's cheeks and rubbed it into her lips, her chin and across her mask. "You still say no to me, the number goes down again."
"Ugh, gross—wait, no—hot—fuck, I don't even know anymore!" she said, not pulling away, even as he rubbed her mask with it, her tongue flicked out like a reflex, licking the slick mess he left behind as her thighs started trembling. She was so far gone in the smell, she could feel her clit grinding against the tight crotch of her suit, and her nipples were hard, poking through the glossy fabric.
"Now," Omen leaned back slightly, spreading his legs wider, "why don't you start by kissing it? Nice and slow. A blowjob never hurt anybody, right?"
Harley leaned in and pressed her lips right to the head outlined in his pants, kissing it softly at first, then licking, her tongue working the shape like she needed it to breathe. She moaned softly as she kept kissing, her fingers sliding up to stroke along his thighs.
Each press of her lips left a wet spot, her spit soaking through the cloth as she let her body move on instinct. Her ass wiggled in the air behind her, suit pulled tight across her cheeks as her hips rolled on their own.
"Good girl," Omen said, running his fingers through her pigtails, gripping them tight as he guided her face lower. "Now pull it out."
Harley's hands were already moving, desperate and shaky, as she reached for his waistband, as Harley pulled down Omen's pants and boxers, his fat cock sprang out and whacked her right across the face with a meaty smack, "Holy fuckin' hell!" she yelped, jerking back in surprise. "Warn a girl next time before you go clubbin' her with a log, Jesus!"
The stench hit next, heavy, hot, and straight-up filthy. It rolled off his dick like a wave of gas station bathroom and locker room mixed together "Goddamn, ya smell like a whole Arkham cellblock..." Harley said as she stared at Omen's cock, then mumbled to herself, "and I dunno why, but that's makin' me so fuckin' wet right now."
His uncut cock was thick and veiny, the swollen head already glazed in smegma like a pervert's idea of frosting, and Harley licked her lips like a hungry mutt sniffin' bacon grease.
She shuffled forward, still looking a little dizzy from the scent alone, and gave his tip a sloppy kiss. Then her tongue slithered out, flicking over the mess around his foreskin, and she made a satisfied, slight hum as she started suckin' it clean. "Mmm... salty, dirty, man-butter—just how I like it…" she mumbled as her tongue went under his foreskin.
Her body wiggled automatically as her ass went up in the air, hips swayin' like she was auditioning for the world's trashiest strip show. Drool spilt out the corners of her lips as she slurped his cock slowly and deeply, working that tongue under his skin, gathering up every drop of grime like it was the last food she would ever eat.
Then, a loud smack was heard, echoing in the limo, Omen's palm cracked across her ass so loud it could've been a gunshot. Harley choked a little and squealed as her eyes snapped up to meet his.
"That's fuckin' pathetic, Harley Hole," Omen said, dry as ever. "You call that a blowjob? You're just slobbering on it like some bargain bin hooker. I'm not paying you to play with my smegma like it's fuckin' yogurt. If you keep sucking like that, I'll start lowering those millions again."
Harley mumbled low in her throat but didn't pull off his cock. Her eyes narrowed and her cheeks flared red, but the embarrassment only made her clench her thighs tighter.
"Y-Yeah, yeah, okay," she mumbled around his cock, drooling more as she picked up the pace.
"And tell the driver to head to Ivy's," Omen added, still not looking at her, "Don't swallow and don't spit. Keep it all in that dirty little mouth of yours."
Harley popped off his dick with a schlurp, a long, gooey strand of spit still connecting them as she staggered up on her knees.
"Mmph—mou' fulla jizz an' ya want me givin' directions now?" she griped, her words were thick and wet as she crawled up to the limo divider. Her cheeks were puffed out, and her tongue was swimming in the salty mess of precum and smegma, drool seeping from the corners of her lips.
She tapped the window hard with the back of her hand, then leaned close, "Hey—mff—hey, dumazz—guhk—take uz tuh Ivy's, wuh-yuh? Eigh'y-ninth an' Blehhke—mmnghh—" she choked slightly mid-sentence, forcing a gulp down just to keep from spilling, her voice a wet garble of smegma and spit.
Then she shrieked, high and loud, as her face smushed against the divider as Omen buried his tongue in her fat bubblebutt "Fuh-HUCK!" she barked with her nose wrinkling and one eye twitching. "Gohh—yuh, j-juh keep guh-goin' shtraighhh—mmffgk—n' t-take a left at duh fish—mnhhh—fish market! No' the stinky one—the o'her stinky one!"
Her hips jerked with every lick of Omen's tongue, even if it wasn't directly touching her pussy, stopped by her suit, her voice slurring from the overload in her mouth and the tongue wrecking her from behind.
"A-an'—hhrrk—righ' at duh big gas station—wit' duh crackhead clown sign—y'can't miss it!" She tried to grin. "Hhhuh... I sound like I'm tryin' tuh order food outta Bane's gimp mask…"
Another lick hit her clit and she squealed again and her words collapsed into a barely comprehensible moan.
"Juzz—jus' fuckin' drive!" she gurgled, pounding the divider with her palm as her thighs trembled, "an' lemme die happy back here, holy SHHHHIT—!"
Her voice cracked into a giggle and a gag at the same time as she went limp against the glass, smegma still sloshing behind her teeth and her eyes rolled back with a stupid grin.