Like the animal she idolizes, Catwoman’s strides were long, graceful, and above all: quiet. So, it was no surprise that when she walked in on Poison Ivy slurping a pair of little kicking legs into her mouth, the maneater was none the wiser.

“Enjoying a midnight snack, Ivy?” Catwoman asked with a cocky smirk. Fully dressed in her black leather costume, complete with “tacticool” padding, Catwoman crossed her arms under her impressive bust and leaned against the doorframe to Ivy’s greenhouse.

Ivy would have liked to have thought she’d know to turn her head and spit out the little human she just put in her mouth. Better yet, it would have made sense to just swallow the evidence. Yet Catwoman’s sudden presence so surprised her that all she could do was keep her lips curled in, tight, and her cheeks puffed out; so Catwoman wouldn’t see little hands pushing against them from the inside. Her green eyes looked her roommate up and down before settling on her face. Judging by Catwoman’s cat-who-ate-the-canary grin, Ivy figured she knew she was the plant-who-ate-the-man. So she spat him out into her hand.

“So, you know then,” Ivy asks, sounding more accusatory than apologetic.

“For a while now,” Catwoman revealed, checking out her black fingernails as if the entire revelation bored her.

“I’m sure an anti-hero, or anti-villain, or whatever, like you doesn’t approve, then?” Ivy’s fingers closed around her paused snack. She was worried Catwoman may try to take it away, use it as evidence against her. Worse yet, she would be taking away her dinner.

“Quite the opposite,” Catwoman said, surprising Ivy, “I’m more than a little intrigued, actually.”

Ivy arched a brow and pursed her lips, keeping on the defensive. “Is that right?” she asked.

“Oh my, yes,” Catwoman admits, excited to come clean. Her body pushed off the door frame. Her heels, a surprising choice given her penchant for running, leaping, and climbing, clicked on the floor as she approached. They make my ass look better, she would tell those who questioned the fashion choice, not that it needs any help, she’d add with a spank. The sultry ne’er-do-well approached the green woman. Naturally, her hips swayed hypnotically. “Leave it to you to make science cool again,” she complimented, running her gloved hand along the table with all the beakers and vials.

Ivy couldn’t hide the smile pulling on her ruby lips. “In that case, let me be a generous host and offer you something to eat,” she said, her tone signaling much of the anxiety having left her. Of course, that something to eat was the damp little man sitting in the center of her outstretched hand. He had since wiped Ivy’s saliva from his face so he could see. However, looking up at the darkly beautiful and beautifully dark woman reaching for him didn’t alleviate his fears.

“In that case, let me be gracious guest and accept,” Catwoman said, playing along. She’d never held a tiny person before, of course. Still, she was a master of deft delicacy and smoothness, so it was no problem to pinch him between finger and thumb and lift him. She just had to be careful not to skewer him with the claws on her gloves. The burglar rotated her hand in the air, examining him from all angles. She figured he must be between four and five inches. I’ve had bigger in my mouth, she thought, casting a smirk on her lips.

Her painted-black lips briefly curled in to wet themselves before her mouth opened to accept Ivy’s offering. He squirmed and screamed but made no progress in freeing himself. He got close enough to hear her guts gurgling from down her throat, echoing through her maw, when she stopped.

“Wait, who is he?” Catwoman asked.

“A delicious morsel,” Ivy said matter-of-factly.

“No, I mean, before you shrunk him,” she clarified.

“Does it matter?” she clarified.

Catwoman gave a sigh, blasting the morsel with her hot breath, which smelled of milk and fish. Clearly this was going to be a thing, so Catwoman lowered the man and held him just below her exposed cleavage. He wasn’t sure where to look; at the dangerous woman who had tried to eat him, or at the swelling breasts of the woman who was debating the option.

“Of course it matters, Pamela,” she said. “I’m not going to aid in the killing of an innocent man, as boring as innocent is.”

“He’s a man.” Ivy gave a dismissive wave. “There’s nothing innocent about him.”

Catwoman sighed even deeper than before. This time the little man wasn’t subjected to the hurricane breath. Better, he got to watch those creamy jugs strain against her suit and her zip drop a notch when she inhaled. “For God’s sake, Ivy, having a dick is not a crime,” Catwoman said in a tone that made it clear she had had this argument with ivy before.

“It should be,” Ivy scoffed, looking away for a moment. Her eyes fell back on the cat and dominatrix themed woman. The botanist raised her defensives back up, crossing her arms under her barely covered breasts. “So, what? Are you going to try and stop me, now that you know your food isn’t ‘cruelty free?’” she mocked.

“Still no,” Catwoman reassured Ivy, while terrifying the nameless man. “I’m of a live and let live attitude, even if someone else isn’t.”

Poison Ivy rolled her eyes. She found Catwoman’s hard to read moral compass frustrating. She was a scientist. She wanted, needed, to understand things to be comfortable. She believed in what she could see and trusted in what she could replicate. She sometimes wondered if that’s one of the reasons she was so attracted to Harley Quinn. Her wild, unpredictable, nature excited her. Plus, that body, she’d think.

“Still,” Catwoman continued, thinking aloud while re-examining the man, “I am curious.”

The exasperated woman didn’t have it in her to even make a “curious like a cat” joke. “Then eat it already!” she barked at the cat, demanding she make up her mind while also stripping the man of his gender by being referred to him as “it.”

“Hmmm…still no,” Catwoman answered, clearly playing up the situation by teasing Ivy and testing her already microscopic patience. “First, I wanted to ask you something.”

“If you’re wanting to know more about the creature,” she started, clearly sounding dismissive, and now stripping the man of his humanity, “I can’t help you. All I know is that he was a security guard, his name is something boring like Dave, or something, and he’s supposed to be in my belly right now!” Her bored tone gradually became irritated as she spoke.

“You seem on edge, Ivy,” Catwoman said with mock concern. “You know what you need?”

Ivy was cradling her face in her palms. She knew exactly what she was going to say next.

“Some sunlight,” Catwoman joked, proving Ivy’s prediction correct.

“Selina, I swear, if you don’t get to the point…” she started, speaking into her hands before dropping them and snapping back to attention, looking Catwoman dead in her eyes and continuing with, “…I’m going to shrink you down!”

“So, you can shrink women, too? Good to know, that answers another question I had. However, what I really want to know is if you can shrink anyone?” Catwoman asked.

With her point of visiting finally laid out, Ivy calmed down, the green veins on her neck diminishing until they were gone. “Theoretically. I haven’t met anyone who has been able to resist the toxin, so far.” Her eyes were very analytical, trying to figure out Catwoman’s plan.

“Then, if I were to bring you someone, you could shrink them?” she asked, further revealing her intentions.

“…Theoretically,” Ivy answered. “Although, if you’re looking for a fresh one, I have more,” she offered, once again becoming a generous host.

“I’m sure you do, but no,” she declined. “I’m hungry for someone specific.” Once again, she offered up only the bare essential information, no more than she had to until she had to. It kept Ivy guessing, but at least she was more at ease. “However, before I put in the work…” Catwoman trailed off, letting her actions do the talking as she lifted the little man back to her face.

He had grown somewhat complacent during the conversation; somewhat hopeful he’d be let go. At the very least, taken away from Poison Ivy. As soon as he saw her pink tongue run across her sharp incisors, his panic was reborn anew. He was tossed through the air and landed directly onto her tongue. Immediately the teeth shut behind him, and the ride began.

She was new to having something like him in her mouth. So, her tongue was not gentle. She didn’t know how much punishment he could take. Surprisingly a lot, but it didn’t hurt any less. His body was dragged along the roof, bumping against the ridges and wrinkles while her tongue slid against him. All the built-up saliva in her mouth was sucked down into her gullet, and he was certain he’d be next. He’d seen Ivy consume enough to know that. However, expectations were circumvented again, and once more he was spat out into a female hand. This time, Catwoman’s.

“Not bad,” she admitted, playing down how delicious he actually was, “not bad at all.” She gave him one last sultry look before tossing him underhanded toward Poison Ivy. Instinctively, Ivy caught the morsel, and then immediately grimaced at feeling the foreign spit on her palm. “I’ll be back,” Catwoman left with. Leaving things ambiguous and unclear.

Ivy made sure to watch her leave, both to be aware of any last-minute foul play, but also to enjoy the sight of that perfect peach in tight leather. She was still suspicious of her intentions but felt a bit relieved she no longer had to worry about her only roommate, other than Harley (who was totally on board now), finding out about her and ruining everything. She couldn’t help but smile at the turn of events. There was a softness in her features as she smiled, the little man in her palm thought. Perhaps a kind of softness that begat mercy. It didn’t.

While still watching Catwoman sway her hips out the door, Ivy launched her hand toward her mouth and let the morsel be flung into the wet cave. As she tasted him, her tongue having more expertise at handling him than Catwoman’s, she noticed that he tasted different. Tasted better. Catwoman’s saliva seemed to have added to his natural flavors. She made a note of inviting Catwoman to some one-on-one-on-one time with her and Harley.

As she thought about all the fun they could have with three gorgeous, voluptuous, and devilish women, she swallowed. The moan she let out was not just for how good the man tasted, and felt going down, but for the future. She rubbed her gurgling belly with one hand and ran her fingertips across her chest with the other.

///////////

True to her word, Catwoman would return to Poison Ivy. Unlike last time, however, she was not as quiet as a cat on the prowl. In fact, she was as noisy as a cat knocking something off the counter. After turning the knob just enough to unlatch the door from the frame, she slammed her butt against the door to swing the door open. It hit the wall with a bang. The stop-and-go sound of Catwoman dragging something heavy, taking brief breaks to catch her breath, followed behind her rude entrance.

“I’m back!” Catwoman announced with a mix of cheerfulness and exhaustion. Finally, able to take a rest, she took a seat: right on the raised stomach of the man she had just dragged in. As much as most men have fantasized of having Catwoman sit on them, he didn’t look pleased.

This time, Ivy was not caught playing with her food, in one way or another. This time, Ivy was in the middle of mixing dangerous chemicals. Mixtures which required precision and exact measurements. Catwoman’s abrupt entrance caused Ivy to at the very least ruin her batch, but it could have been worse – it could have exploded. Once she was confident no explosion would follow, she turned her attention to the loud interruption.

“You’re also loud,” Ivy said through clenched teeth. Her annoyance well established, she turned her eyes South to look at Catwoman’s impromptu seat. Her lips pulled into a smirk as she saw a prime opportunity present itself. “Well, well, well, look who the cat dr-“

“Finish that sentence and I will claw your eyes out, Ivy, don’t test me,” Catwoman said between heavy breaths. “It wasn’t easy getting this guy from his penthouse to here, and all while being stealthy and looking good.”

The bemused botanist couldn’t argue against her looking good, but “stealthy” was easily refuted. Still, she looked exhausted, so a fun back and forth was likely out of the question. “Fine. So, who is this sperm bank and what is he doing in my greenhouse and under your ass?”

“Don’t tell me you forgot our conversation a few days ago,” Catwoman worried. At least she was done panting. Although Ivy did enjoy watching her chest rise and fall rapidly, testing the patience of her suit.

“This is the specimen you want to shrink?” she said with distaste in her voice. Ivy wasn’t choosey in which men she shrank, but she was particular about who she ate. She couldn’t imagine someone so bald, fat, and old tasting any good. “I assumed you were going to bring me a male model, or something,” Ivy stated her theory. Catwoman was known to prefer the finer things in life, so she just assumed that would extend to which men she wanted to consume.

“It’s not about looks, for me,” Catwoman answered, seeing the disgust on Ivy’s face, “It’s about the individual. Him and I have history.” When she saw Ivy once again roll her eyes at her, she spoke up with, “You keep rolling your eyes like that, they’ll get stuck.”

Ivy grumbled at the tease. She examined the world’s angriest seat cushion again and shrugged, surrendering to her request. “Fine. Whatever. I’ve kissed worse.” Having agreed to Catwoman’s request, she reached into her lab coat pocket and pulled out a gold lipstick case.

“You have to kiss them to shrink them? Why am I not surprised?” Catwoman playfully scoffed.

“You have your gimmicks,” Ivy said between applications, “and I have mine.” Lips curled inward to make the application even. Her finger going against the corners of her lips to remove any errant streaks. The color was black. Catwoman’s favorite. Catwoman couldn’t help but appreciate the choice when she saw the stick push up from the case. It looked even better once Ivy dragged it across her pouty tiers.

“Mmm, what shade is that and can I borrow it?” She asked, hoping to add it to her surprisingly vast collection of different shades of black lipstick. Obsidian, onyx, midnight, rolling blackout, sleeping panther, and Void by Armani, just to name a few.

“Not unless you want to end up like he’s about to,” Ivy warned before recapping the stick and disappearing it between her breasts. “Unless you’ve had your shots.” She was referring to the all-purpose antidote she had offered to Catwoman when she first moved in. It was meant to protect her against all the toxins of Ivy’s plants and Ivy herself. Catwoman declined, citing a preference for the danger.

“Keep it up with that darker look, Ivy, and I just might,” Catwoman flirted. She had often suggested to Ivy that her cold personality and tendency to gloominess would make her the perfect goth chick. But Ivy preferred green.

The green goddess was certainly appreciative of that. Still, it wasn’t time for games, it was time for business. Ivy waved her hand at Catwoman to shoo her off the bound and gagged man. Once she was up, Ivy replaced her, straddling the man’s gut. She was not at all gentle when she decided to just drop her ass on him, rather than lower herself gently. Seeing the gag around his mouth, muffling his no doubt angry accusations and threats, Ivy gestured for Catwoman to remove it. Deftly, with her claws, she sliced it down the middle, causing it to fall away.

“You bitch!” was the first thing he had to say. Not off to a diplomatic start. “I’m going to get you for this,” he said to Catwoman, but addressing Ivy, too, if she continued to toy with him. “You think you can just barge into my home and kidnap me? There’s going to be an army coming after you!”

“Please shut him up,” Catwoman pleaded, already exhausted by his mouth.

“You stupid fucking cu-“ but he had no chance to finish that obscenity. Ivy’s mouth saw to that. Her thick lips easily made a seal against his mouth. Tiers firmly pressed against him, making sure to apply as much toxin as possible, as quickly as possible. After a handful of seconds that he had to admit he enjoyed, Ivy’s lips pulled off with a smack.

The scientist spat to her right, at the floor. “Blech, a smoker. Disgusting,” she criticized.

“And a man,” Catwoman added sarcastically, as Ivy stood up, clearly playing off of Ivy’s aggressive level of radical feminism. More accurately, Ivy hated all of mankind, so she really didn’t care about women’s rights as much as plants’. But between the two sexes, she hated men much more.

Despite her earlier, sarcastic, warning, Ivy rolled her eyes. As she was want to do. Hands pressed against her hips as she watched the figuratively little man become a literally little man. All the while he continued to shout about all the things he was going to do to them when he got free, sprinkling in swears and slurs as he did. It was of no small amusement to either women that his voice got squeaker as he shrank.

When it was over, Ivy bent down at the waist, favoring Catwoman a glimpse of her ass, barer than it was covered by her leafy thong, and picked up her favor to her. Then, Ivy dropped him into Catwoman’s greedy hand.

Catwoman looked over the immensely confused man and couldn’t help but notice a difference between him and the one she tasted a few days prior. “He’s smaller than the other one,” she observed.

“The size varies,” Ivy revealed. “It has to do with the different DNA of each person. Some shrink to even smaller than him,” she added, referring to the now two-inch-tall man.

“I find that hard to believe,” Catwoman said in response while poking at the shrunken man’s penis, grinning. “Still, I was kinda hoping he’d be bigger,” she lamented.

“Well, too bad,” she coldly answered. “Besides, for a rookie like you, the smaller the better. Makes them easier to deal with and swallow.” The little guy did not like that last word at all.

“I’m not a rookie at anything, babe,” Catwoman said with no small amount of confidence.

There went those eyes again. Rolling. Still, this time, Ivy couldn’t help but smile at her bravado, and the not at all subtle sexual implications. She watched as Catwoman tucked him away between her tits the same way Ivy had with her lipstick. Only, her lipstick didn’t have two arms flailing above the sink-line. Her smile widened. Ivy never got tired of seeing them struggle.

“Thanks, Ivy, I’ll let you know how it goes,” Catwoman said.

“Not going to eat him here?” Ivy asked, sounding just a little disappointed.

“You wanted to watch me?” Catwoman asked.

“I was curious,” she replied with a sultry purr usually reserved for Catwoman herself.

“I bet you were,” Catwoman teased, clearly enjoying the flirtations. Sadly, for once, she had to end the flirtations short. “But no, I’ve got other plans for him. For now.”

“Very well.” It was no great wound to Ivy. “Oh, I recommend swallowing him whole,” she remembered to suggest. “Blood does taste delicious, but it can be messier than it’s worth. Plus, they feel divine in your stomach,” she described, unable to stop herself from caressing her belly.

“Hey now, no spoilers,” Catwoman stopped her with. The two shared a smile. As Catwoman would return to her room, her breasts bounced slightly in the tight confines of her suit. At their size, there was no stopping some jiggling. Regardless of the slightness of their bounce, to the victim between them the motion was immensely disorienting and uncomfortable.

Once again, Ivy couldn’t help but watch her roommate leave. In doing so, she suddenly felt a rush overcome her, forcing her to brace herself on the table. If she was lucky, Catwoman didn’t hear her moan, but she wouldn’t mind being a little unlucky. Once she recovered from her brief, but strong, orgasm, she reached into her left breast cup.

Her nipple still sensitive, removing the tiny from it sent another shiver through her. “Impressive,” she said to the exhausted and panting three-inch man. “You made me cum just from molesting one of my nipples.” No doubt seeing Catwoman aided in that accomplishment, but Ivy was a generous goddess. Just not a merciful one. “That means you graduate to level three.” Level one being massaging the soles of her feet, and level two of course was massaging her nipple. Level three was…

Ivy pulled aside the crotch of her corset, not wanting the leaves to fall away just yet. The man had no strength left to find against being shoved feet first into the giantess’s soaked and sticky pussy. “Be sure to move around a lot,” she instructed. “Otherwise, you get detention,” she added, punctuating the threat with a lick of her lips and a well-timed growl from her stomach. With one last push on his head, he went inside, and her corset was moved back into place.

She was sure Catwoman would have as much fun as she did with her food. After all, cats are known to play with their food.