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"Bastards thought they could hold me…"
Poison Ivy carried on through the thick brush, trying to keep balance on shaky legs. Above, shining down through the entwining branches of the towering pines, was the full moon.
It was a clear night in Gotham. Somehow, Ivy had managed to escape.
She'd bided her time, swallowed her pride and obeyed every direction, every protocol, every demeaning order. She'd endured their experiments and the indignity of letting those brute orderly touch her body. She was a goddess and she'd let them defile her by taking samples. "We just want to know how your physiology has changed", was the pathetic excuse they gave her. Ivy knew the truth: they wanted to weaken her. They wanted the tools to destroy her. Because they were afraid. Afraid of her power, afraid of the coming retribution of nature.
Those doctors and scientists at Arkham had been fools, every last one of them. And the guards had been pigs. They had all underestimated her. Men always underestimated her.
Now she was free again. Free… but weakened.
Ivy felt it in her muscles, in her bones, in her very core. It was an ache, faint and dull but seeping through every inch of her body. She felt an emptiness, like she'd been hollowed out. Like she was starving.
"Fuck." She groaned, clutching her arms to her belly. She stumbled forth, her bare feet sinking into the soft, damp soil. A small fortune in that it had rained earlier that day, just before her daring escape. She could feel the muck between her toes, caking over the soles of her feet, her ankles, sticking to her calves. She could feel the power of the Earth beneath her, nourishing her through her skin.
She was weak but growing stronger. Though it was still too slow for Ivy's liking. Whatever they had done to her in Arkham had left her… stunted.
Ivy let out a long, heavy sigh. She took a few more steps before coming to lean against a tree. She braced herself with both hands, feeling the energy of Mother Earth seeping through the bark. It was faint, but her fingertips were buzzing as they drank in the power. She fed on what was offered, what little she could take in.
The reality was plain to see, no matter how much Ivy was loath to admit it.
She needed help.
Poison Ivy needed some muscle.
For a moment she felt a pang of regret - Ivy could have snatched up a couple orderlies or guards during her break-out. She squashed that feeling quickly though. Those guards had been scum. Lower than scum. Not a single man among them deserved the privilege of feeding her plants, much less serving her.
In a way, that was another blessing. Now that she was free from the confines of Arkham Asylum, Ivy could choose her disciples at will.
Then she heard it. Through the sounds of the musty forest, the chirping of crickets, the croaking of frogs, and the evening wind rustling through the trees… there was the faint sound of civilization. In the distance there was the buzz of streetlights, the low hum of passing cars. Unmistakable.
Ivy pushed off the tree, forcing herself up a small hill towards the glow of the lights. Each step was a struggle… but each was less of a fight than the one before. Slowly, ever so slowly, she was gaining back her strength. It spurred her on, carrying her closer and closer until she reached…
A neighborhood.
Ivy stopped at the edge of the tree line, breathing deeply as she leaned on another trunk for support. She drank in the sight before her. Houses. A long row of houses stretching off to her right and to her left. And they were big. Two stories, three stories, each sporting large, open backyards. Some had pools, pool houses, small playgrounds, trampolines, swing sets. The house right in front of her was simple in comparison, sporting a furnished, wooden deck.
This place was upper class, no doubt. Not Wayne-rich, but definitely wealthy. Even weak and aching, Ivy had to smile. Fortune was on her side once again.
Gathering her strength, Ivy pushed off the tree. Somewhere in this neighborhood was her first disciple.
Her very wealthy disciple.
Ivy slid forth from the dark of the forest and into the warm light of the backyards. The house in front of her was a two story home with a white stone veneer. The large wooden deck extended out, furnished with a table, patio chairs, and cushioned benches. Off to the side, Ivy noted a double garage.
Yep, this place just shouted "money".
Then… movement at the glass sliding door. A figure moved out into the cool, evening air. Under the patio lights, Ivy got a look at her new prospect.
Male. A boy. A teenager. He moved slowly across the patio, tapping away at his cellphone.
Ivy smiled. It was yet another flash of serendipity. As far as thralls went, young men were the easiest marks to ensnare by far.
Briefly, Ivy yearned for a mirror. Just for the chance to look herself over. But she brushed it off as a needless concern. Ivy knew how beautiful she was. Even without her pheromones, men and women alike desired her. And even dressed in these rags from Arkham, with her hands and feet caked in dirt, Ivy still made for a stunning sight.
She had already long ditched those dreadful pants, wanting to feel the splendor of the Earth under her bare feet. That left her in gray underwear and her abbreviated prison top. She'd tied the open flaps of her orange shirt into a knot just beneath her breasts, leaving much of her belly exposed. The fresh air against her skin had been liberating. So much skin on display - enough to send tongues wagging in even the most pious of monasteries.
I might not even need to enthrall the kid, Ivy snarked to herself.
"You there! Boy!" Ivy called out as she strode through the open backyard. Each step across the manicured grass had her fighting back a wince - the green should have been allowed to flourish unrestrained, no be butchered for looks.
The teenager whirled in her direction, giving Ivy her first clear look at him. This was no boy, she realized quickly. A teenager, yes, but matured. He looked healthy, fit, strong. And he was tall. If not for the youth clear on his face and the letterman jacket he wore, Ivy might have mistaken him for a grown man.
He was lean and solid. A fresh face with the spark of vitality in the eyes. His masculine features were still colored by youth, just soft enough to lean him towards the label of "pretty boy". His hair was cut short, dark brown locks lightly styled. And from the Letterman jacket, Ivy could only assume he was an athlete.
Not bad as far as prospects went. At least this one was cute.
The young man stared at her for a short moment, stunned into silence by the sight of a half-naked woman in his backyard. As Ivy drew even closer, he found his voice again.
"Jesus. Lady, are you alright?" He moved quickly, shoving his phone into his pocket as he practically jumped down the patio steps. He hurried across his backyard, meeting her halfway.
Ivy could better appreciate his face now, absorbing the little details. The sincere concern in his bright eyes, the way his brow pinched in worry, even the fullness of his lips, they all contributed to his looks. He wasn't just cute, Ivy found much to her inner delight. He was handsome.
Already he was shrugging off his letterman jacket, letting Ivy see the firm build of his shoulders, lean muscle packed onto his biceps and forearms. He was no Batman, but his strength was obvious. It was the sort of fitness that was impressive for any man, not just a teenager.
He offered up his jacket and Ivy had to fight back a smile. She still had to play the role of the damsel.
She hugged her arms to her bare belly, pretending to shiver - she didn't get cold the way normal humans did, so she drew on old memories. The young man swept his jacket over her shoulders. Had Ivy still been a normal human, she might have found the new garment pleasantly warm. But it carried the scent of man. Ivy didn't hold that against the boy, though.
"Young man." Ivy reached out, daintily touching her hero's arm. "What is your name?"
"Tommy." He answered quickly. "Thomas. You can call me Tom."
"Thank you, Tom." Ivy answered with feigned emotion. She swept some of her damp red locks from her eyes, looking up into his. "I think I might have lost my way. Such a big city, Gotham. It's so easy for a girl to get turned around. Would you be so kind as to help me?"
Tom nodded quickly, hanging on every word that poured from her mouth.
"Yes. Sure. Absolutely. Help you with what? Do you need a ride? A phone?"
Standing so close to him, Ivy finally noticed just how tall the young man was. Tom had more than a head on her. Ivy liked that.
She let out a little groan, swaying a little. A small performance to sell the image of helplessness.
"I've been walking for hours. Now my legs and feet are just so sore." Ivy whimpered softly, reaching down to rub her bare calves. Tom's eyes followed - and lingered. Again, Ivy tried not to smirk. "I was wondering if you could carry me? Surely it wouldn't be a problem for you? You look very strong."
Tom's face became a sight to behold. He looked torn between incredulity and complete jubilation. The starry-eyed teen blinked and swallowed.
"Oh. Oh, yeah. Definitely. Happy to help." He held out his arms but paused, as if mulling over just how to proceed. Ultimately, Ivy had to meet him halfway. She put herself into his waiting arms - his very firm, very strong arms - and let him sweep her off her feet. She threw her arms around Tom's neck as the teen lifted her into a bridal carry.
Ivy let out a genuine sigh, feeling relief as the pressure was taken off of her legs and feet. She hadn't been lying completely - she had been walking for hours and her legs were sore. Why should a goddess have to endure that?
"Oh, thank you so much!" Ivy cooed, pouring on the gratitude like sweet, sweet syrup. She let her fingers stroke the back of Tom's neck, grazing through his soft hair. She wiggled in his arms, drawing herself up to his broad, warm chest. "Thank goodness there are still gentlemen in Gotham. Would you accept a small reward?"
She gazed into his eyes, trying not to giggle as she felt the teen freeze up. He looked back at her… then turned his eyes away. It was adorable.
"Uh… that's not necessary, ma'am- miss."
This time Ivy had to smile. He was perfect.
She curled her arms just a bit tighter around his neck, pressing up to him as close as she could. Though the cold no longer held any bite for her, she enjoyed his warmth all the same. That and how solid he felt, all that taut, fit muscle. But most of all, Ivy enjoyed the sight of that blush spreading across his cheeks.
Too easy.
"Please." Ivy inched her face closer to his, their lips just about to touch. "I insist."
"I have a girlfriend." Tom blurted.
Ivy fought the urge to roll her eyes back into her skull. She drew back a little, looking Tom dead in the eyes. It was only then she noticed just how blue they were. Very blue and completely sincere.
Burying her frustration, the escaped villainess forced a smile. That seemed to lower the boy's guard.
"That's very sweet of you, Tom." She told him truthfully.
Then she tightened her fingers in his hair and pulled his face to hers, pressing her lips firmly to his. It only took a second or two for Ivy's pheromones to work their magic, but she was not going to take any chances. Not when she was so weak. She had to be sure this young man was hers.
Ivy held their liplock for a long, long time. She let their mouths part and their lips slide together, allowing their simple kiss to morph into something deeper. Something far more intimate. It became a dance of passion - and control. Ivy wanted to take no chance with her pheromones - so she slipped her tongue into the young man's mouth.
Tom's lips were as soft as they looked and carried the faint taste of mint. Ivy appreciated that, especially as they began to swap spit. Tom himself proved skillful if a little eager - Ivy chalked that up to his youth. With his looks, she could only imagine all the practice he'd gotten. Soon enough, both of them were moaning, tasting and being tasted.
Ivy let the kiss drag on until she was satisfied her influence had taken root. By the end, she'd even come to enjoy it. When they finally parted, breathless and flushed, she swore she could see hearts in the teen's eyes.
"Your girlfriend is a lucky woman. But right now, I need you more than she does." Ivy huffed, stroking Tom's cheek.
"Okay." Tom nodded obediently, wearing a dopey grin. "Whatever you need, miss."
"Has she ever kissed you like that?" Ivy couldn't help but pry. It was a spot of pettiness flaring up.
"No. Never."
Ivy felt a swelling of pride at those words. It only made sense. How could a regular, plain girl compare to a goddess?
"Serve me well and there'll be more where that came from." Ivy found herself promising. Again, it just made sense. Loyalty should be rewarded, shouldn't it? Ivy pointedly eyed the house over Tom's shoulder. "Your family is wealthy, yes?"
"Yes."
"And do they give you an allowance?"
"Yeah. I have my own credit card, debit card, a bank account. I even have a trust fund set up."
"Hmm. Very useful. What about a car?"
"It's in the garage." Tom cracked a boastful smile. "It's a Mustang."
Ivy winced. Mustangs and muscle cars guzzled gas like nothing else. And she didn't even want to think about those carbon emissions. Yet… she couldn't really afford to be picky.
"Fine. Let's go. Get onto the highway and head towards the Miagani River. You're taking me back to my old hideout."
"Hideout?" Tom blinked, his face flashing with recognition. "Oh, damn! You're that Poison Ivy chick!"
Ivy stared, lips parted as she tried to find the words. She shook her head.
"You didn't recognize me?" She couldn't keep the incredulity from creeping into her voice.
"I thought your skin was supposed to be green. Or greener. And I thought you controlled plants and had an army of plant monsters and stuff."
The villainess sighed.
"It is supposed to be greener. Right now, I'm weak. Those bastards at Arkham tried to defang me. Now I can barely feel my babies in the soil."
"Wow. Fucking assholes."
"Yes. Fucking assholes. But once we reach my hideout, I can get to work in my lab, regain my strength, and find a way to make myself stronger than ever. And then no one in Gotham will ever imprison me again!"
Indeed, many would try. More likely than not, those frightened, pathetic men would try to make Ivy weak again. Try to control her or destroy her. But Ivy would crush them. She'd crush them all.
"Hell yeah." Tom affirmed as he carried her towards his house. Ivy was only able to get a fleeting look at his ritzy kitchen and dining room before he moved them on to the garage. Sure enough, the teen's black Mustang was waiting for them. A sleek, waxed muscle car with seating for two. Absolutely dreadful for the environment… but it did look nice. Tom went around to the passenger side and eased her down. He opened the door for her, grinning ear to ear. "You know, I always thought you were really hot."
Ivy flashed him a wry smile as she settled into her seat.
"Of course." She chuckled softly. "Everyone thinks I'm hot."