“Bwa! Ah ha ha ha ha ha!” Harley bellowed, her laugh carrying throughout the apartment. She was having a grand ol’ time. Sitting on the couch, in a t-shirt and undies, eating junk food, and watching a Three Stooges marathon with her little buddy John. John, conversely, was not having a good time.

John had done all he could to convince Harley not to bring him out into the living room for anything. He was still terrified of being spotted by someone who may kill him on the spot – rather than over the course of several days through careless actions, like he assumed Harley was going to end up doing. It had been a fruitless effort, of course. Any objection he had was dismissed as him being a “negative Nelly” or a “party pooper Pat” or a “downer Duke of Deutschland, Danford Duskwallow III.” He felt the last one was a little verbose.

So, there he was, six hours deep into the Three Stooges, with no means of escape. He sat, as he usually did, in Harley’s cleavage. At the very least he had managed to wriggle his way out of the tight confines of being sandwiched between her breasts. He found himself instead hanging onto the lowest point of her shirt’s deep V neckline. He hung inside the shirt, with his arms over the edge, keeping him from slipping down. Even so, with how tight her tee-shirt was, he was nevertheless pressed up against her soft, crushing, mounds.

“Ah!” he heard Harley belt for the 100th time. “Did you see that Joey Joe Joe Shabadoo? Moe hit him on the head with a giant mallet!” His answer didn’t matter, so he didn’t give one. He just hung there, enduring another shower of crumbs from her mouth as she let out another obnoxious string of obnoxious laughter.

The defeated man watched the crumbs slip down her shirt and tumble down toward her lap. She was wearing only a pair of panties, showing off those vast, creamy, thighs. He studied them as the TV cast flickering lights and shadows upon them. He remembered how much he lusted after them. How he fantasized about kissing her softly up and down her thighs, inching ever closer to her radiating heat. He wanted to lick chocolate sauce off them. He wanted to thrust between her thigh gap and explode all over them. He still found them arousing, but now he didn’t want to be gentle. John imagined being rough with the goofy giantess.

John wanted to throw her up against the shower door and hate fuck her. He wanted to make her pain his pleasure. He imagined squeezing her thighs so tight that his red handprints would last hours on her white skin. He desired to fuck and spank her ass so mercilessly that she wouldn’t be able to sit on anything, or anyone, for days. John wanted to hate fuck the shit out of her.

A glare was cast upward at Harley as yet another series of laughs came from those lips he’d managed to escape from days prior. Her boisterous laughing did several things to him. First, it was loud. That’s about it, John just found it obnoxious and loud. Secondly, it caused her tits to shake violently. With every ha belted out of her cake-filled mouth, her jugs wobbled and bounced. John had gotten pretty good at maintaining balance when he was on her bouncing chest. That didn’t mean he enjoyed it. Finally, it sent more crumbs down onto her chest. When a crumb came falling down, launched off her bouncy breast, and knocked into his face, he had reached his breaking point.

“God dammit! Harleen!” He called up at her. He repeated himself several times until finally he yelled between one of her bouts of laughter. Finally noticing him, Harley looked down at her generous boobs and her ungracious guest.

“Hm? What’s up, Jaybles? Talk fast, there are no commercial breaks so you’re interrupting valuable joke time,” she said, all the while finishing off the bite of birthday cake she took when he started yelling.

“Harleen! I need you to listen! I need-“

“Oh! I know what you need!” she interrupted. In the past, he might have thought she meant what he hoped she meant. That she had somehow realized her mistake. He knew better. He knew life was worse. Sure enough, he was proven right when Harley reached over to the can of whipped cream. “You need some whipped cream! Now, open wide!”

John begged her to stop, kept it as simple as just shouting ‘no’ over and over, but Harley was dead set on her plan. From the top of her cleavage, all the way to the bottom where John was, she ejected a cooling line of fresh whipped cream. There was nowhere he could go. Her shirt was too tight to drop down to safety. So, instead, the cream enveloped him.

He barely had the mental capacity to be panicked anymore. All he was, was angry and determined. With that angry determination, he climbed. Through all that cream, he dug his way through and up. It wasn’t easy, moving against not only the cream, but also climbing her perfectly smooth mountains. While he struggled, Harley just kept watching TV, laughing. That laughing just made her chest move more, often knocking John backwards. But he wasn’t going to give up. What would have once been an arousing dream of his, was now a harrowing nightmare.

When finally he had come to the top of her cleavage, sitting just above the cream, he yelled up at Harley again. What’s more, he yelled louder than he had ever yelled before. Harley noticed immediately.

“Whoa there, Jazzman,” she said. “Indoor voices, please. Now, what’s wrong, playa?”

“Wh-what’s wrong? What’s wrong?! You could have buried me alive in that whipped cream stunt! But you know what, I’m not surprised. It’s just another in a long line of ways that you’ve come close to killing me!” John started ranting, standing on her chest, as he got things off his chest.

“Whoa now, I never-“ Harley began to defend herself, but it was time for John to interrupt her.

“Bullshit you never! I’ve been squeezed and crushed under every part of your stupidly hot body because you’re too stupid to realize that you’re fucking squeezing and crushing me!” Perhaps he was getting a little mean. In his defense, he had been through hell and had exercised the patience of a saint throughout. “And every time I try to get free, it somehow just turns you on and you start rubbing one out, while I suffer!”

“You…think I’m hot?” Harley asked, clearly missing the point.

“That’s not the point!” he shouted angrily. “You were supposed to rescue me! You were supposed to take me away from here and maybe, just maybe, help me grow big again!”

“Well, I mean, I’ve helped you grow big plenty of times,” Harley suggestively said.

“GOD DAMMIT LISTEN TO ME!” John was turning as red as a cherry, and in his blinding rage he fell backward into the whipped cream. As he struggled to get back out, all he could hear was the laughter of his tormentor. Rather than let him continue sliding and sinking, she decided to pluck him from his misery and lift him up to her face. He was clearly not amused by her laughter after all he said, after all she did.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Harley apologized, getting the last of her giggling out before muting the TV. When her face fell back on John, she looked different to him. She looked genuinely compassionate. What’s more, she looked remorseful.

“I’m…sorry, really I am,” she began to apologize again. Not for knocking him into her cleavage and laughing about it, but for everything. “I…I know I haven’t been the savior you hoped for. I get distracted easily. I forget things. Even important things. Important people. Important people…like you.” John started to feel himself calm down amazingly fast. “It’s just…if I’m being honest? I liked having you around. Everyone else around here, they’re my friends, sure, but…are they reallly? They never want to hang out, they never laugh at my jokes. Worst of all, they just…leave. As soon as I get carried away, which is often, they just leave the room rather than deal with me.” John began to see more and more sadness and remorse on her face. He started to see her eyes well up. “And for once, I had someone who couldn’t, y’know…run away. And I know that’s terrible. I know you want to run away because it’s dangerous here. And I shouldn’t have kept you here like this without asking you. But I knew, I knew, that if given the choice…you’d leave. I mean…sometimes…I wish I could leave me too.” When he saw that single tear roll down her cheek, and heard that first sniffle, John forgot all about the days of humiliation, suffering, and confusing pleasure.

“Look, Harleen, I’m sorry I-“

“No! No,” Harley stopped him. “You can’t be sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just amazed you put up with me for this long,” she said, trying to laugh a little to stop herself from crying a lot.

“It…it wasn’t all bad,” John tried to spin. “I mean, if I had to be bound to a big, blonde, bodacious babe, I’m glad it was you,” he said, trying to be a little humorous, as he definitely knew Harley liked humor.

“R-really?” Harley asked, smiling. John nodded. “Do you think that, when this is all over, we could still hang out? Just, y’know, sometimes?”

“I’d like that,” he honestly said. “How’s dinner sound?”

“Chuck-E-Cheese?” Harley beamed.

“I was thinking something more…adult,” he suggested. “Maybe…Dave & Buster’s?” For once, John and Harley shared a smile.

“It’s a date.” With her tears gone, Harley gave a determined nod. “Alright, now, let’s take care of you. First, we need to get you cleaned up.”

John assumed this would mean getting put under the faucet, but as Harley’s mouth opened, he remembered better. First came his top half, and for once Harley was being very gentle with him. Despite it being how they first met, and how terrifying it had been then, he was enjoying it under the new context. His bottom half was treated next, and she was spending far more time there than the top half. When he looked up at her baby blue eyes, and saw her wink, he realized what she was doing.

Gently Harley spun him around, so he was looking down at her creamy chest, topped with whipped cream. She wasn’t as oblivious as he thought. Harley definitely knew how much he liked her tits. When they weren’t crushing him. As she gently sucked on him, she began to play with her nipples through her shirt. John watched her nipples grow against the tight stretch of the fabric. All the while her tongue lapped at him between his legs. He was experiencing pleasures he didn’t think possible. He just wished he got to experience them longer. Between the emotional and physical caressing, he didn’t last long, and shot a built-up load directly onto her tongue. John slumped forward, nearly passing out until Harley put a boop of whipped cream on his face.

Pulled free, Harley gave his face a big, soft, gentle, kiss. Her lips and a quick peek of her tongue removed the whipped cream she had playfully put on his face. “Mmm. Creamy,” she suggestively said. John was in heaven. He wanted to thank her, but Harley stopped him before more than a single syllable got out. “I know, I know. I’m awesome. Now come on, let’s go confront Ivy!”

Harley began marching toward the greenhouse, and as John got his senses back, he raised and objection. “Are you sure this is a good idea? Shouldn’t we just leave? Go to the police? Hell, we can go back to my apartment if we need to.”

“Don’t worry, John, I know how to handle Ivy. You’re in good hands,” Harley reassured him. John wouldn’t have time to raise another objection, as they had already arrived at the greenhouse. Quite loudly in fact. Harley swung open the door and bellowed out, “Poison Martha Ivy!”

Ivy was working diligently with her lab equipment when Harley arrived, noisily. She was used to it, so she wasn’t even surprised when it happened. Thus, rather than give a confused and shocked reaction, she just said, “For the last time, my middle name is not Martha. My real name isn’t even Poison Ivy.” Ivy turned around and saw Harley, in a state of undress, with half melted whipped cream on her tits, holding a five-inch tall man, marching over. “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s going on?”

“We need to talk!” Harley firmly stated, standing in front of her only slightly less busty friend and roommate.

“…about what? The whipped cream on your breasts?” Ivy asked, hoping she got it in one.

To clarify, Harley firmly, while being mindful of his safety, put John down onto the table near Ivy. Harley stood straight, back arched, chest out, chin up, and pointed directly at John. In typical Harley fashion, her attempts at clarification just made things more confusing.

“…What?” was all Ivy could ask.

“I think you mean ‘whom’!”

“Okay. Whom?”

“Him! That’s whom!” Harley stopped to correct course. “Wait, that doesn’t sound right. Let me try again. I think you mean ‘who’!”

“Okaaay,” Ivy said again, her genuine confusion at least keeping any annoyance-based anger at bay. “Who?”

“Him! That’s who!”

“Who’s he?”

“John!”

“John who?”

“Not John Woo,” Harley corrected. “Just John!”

“I- Who is John?”

“He is!” Harley re-stated, again pointing at John.

“Dammit, Harl, I’m not going to play Who’s on First with you again,” Ivy said, exasperated. “Why is this shrunken man, named John, on my table, and why is he so important?”

“You don’t remember him?” Harley asked, surprised.

“That’s been established,” Ivy answered, exhausted.

“This is John, the shrunken human being you pulled out of you vagina and threw at me to eat, several nights ago.” Harley’s clarification seemed to have worked, and after a few moments of searching her memory, Ivy’s eyes went wide.

“You kept him? Why?”

“To prove a point.”

“What point?”

“To prove I’m not just some ditzy, dumb, blonde…John!” Harley had begun to answer Ivy, but at the last second looked straight down at the shrunken man who seemed just as confused as Ivy in that moment.

“Wait, what?” John reacted.

“I hate to agree with a man, but yes - what?” Ivy repeated.

“I may be ditzy, I may be blonde, I may be busty, I may be hot, I may be-“ Harley was rambling off positive descriptors before Ivy stopped her and told her to get to the point. “The point is, I’m not dumb, Johnny boy!”

John was no less in the dark after hearing all that. If anything, he was more confused. It was a terrifying kind of confusion, though. The kind where he wasn’t sure what was going to happen next, but the tone of the room told him it wouldn’t be good. Harley continued her rant as his eyes darted between her and Ivy.

“You’ve been trying to manipulate me from minute one, buster. Doing anything you could to convince me to let you go,” Harley explained.

“You were going to eat me!” John shouted, confident that the idea of his survival necessitated any action.

“Yea I was, but your games didn’t stop there. You didn’t just want freedom, you wanted me to turn on my girl Ivy here. And there would have been more, I know it. I can read you like a book, mister. I have several doctorates in the field of psychology, you twit! I could taste the sleaze on you the second I put you in my mouth.” Harley broke for a moment to have an open thought. “Hm, maybe that’s why I spat you out in the first place.”

While John was looking more and more terrified, Ivy’s smile was only growing more. She loved watching her girl put men in their place. Especially men who underestimated Harley. Ivy decided to stay out of it and just enjoy the show.

“I’ve been dealing with jag offs like you all my life. You think that just because I have big knockers that I don’t have the brains to match. I may have slept with all my professors in college to get an A, but I knew the material. I could have passed on my own, flying colors, but I really like fucking. What’s more, I like fucking with people. That’s why I filmed all my ‘tutoring sessions’. After graduation, I gave all their wives and mistresses a copy. Hell, even managed to convince some of the scorned ladies that sleeping with me would be great payback,” Harley added with a curt laugh. “Filmed those too. Remind me to show you sometime, Red,” she said to Ivy. “The point is, I’ve been dealing with manipulative jerks like you for a long time, and I learned that it was more fun to manipulate them back rather than just immediately call them out.” Harley scoffed, hands on her hips. “I mean, did you really think you could fool the Harley Quinn?”

John’s eyes went wide. “Wait, you’re Harley Quinn?!” To his credit, John only knew her as Harleen Quinzel. To his credit, he’d never seen her suit – though he had been inside it. However, she’s also a smoking hot blonde with twin tails who associates with Poison Ivy and lives in Gotham City. So, really, that oversight is on him.

“No duuuuuh!” Harley mocked, getting right up in John’s face and knocking him back. “Now who’s the idiot?”

“So…so all this time? You’ve just been…screwing with me?” John asked as he got back up.

“Look at that, you’re catching on. I may be a little clumsy and absentminded sometimes, but that’s just for laughs. You think all those ‘sexy accidents’ were really accidents?” Judging by John’s face, he did. Harley had to laugh. “Maybe one or two might be coincidence but come on! How many times can one man find himself being ‘accidentally’ inserted into my asshole before he catches on?” Harley explained, laughing.

“Wait, how many times was he inserted into your asshole?” Ivy interrupted.

“Don’t interrupt, Red,” Harley casually scolded.

“Then, did you know? Did you always know that I was an actual human being, not some synthetic clone or whatever?” John inquired further.

“That’s a bingo!” Harley proudly answered. “Of course, I knew. Ivy would never lie to me. Unlike some people,” she said to John. “And to answer that burning question in your head: no. I don’t care that you, or any of the other tinies are shrunken people. Real people. In fact, I think it’s really, really, hot. If you were just lab grown,” Harley paused to laugh at the pun, “then it wouldn’t be half as fun.”

Ivy had heard enough and had to interject again. “Wait, Harley. Are you telling me that you’ve been stringing him along all this time? Giving him false hope, finding ways to satisfy your pleasure while inflicting pain on him, and somehow keeping him in the dark of your true intentions?”

“Right-a-rooney!” Harley comically answered, despite the grim implications.

“That…is so…freakin’ hot!” Ivy beamed. No longer able to contain herself, she threw her arms around her blonde lover and gave her a big kiss on the cheek, leaving a red kiss mark.

“Aw, shucks,” Harley said, blushing.

“So, what’s your end game here? What are you planning on doing with him now?” Ivy asked, stepping back again to let Harley do her thing – while also swiping the cream that got on her green tits during the embrace, and sucking her fingers clean.

“I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do with him. I’m gonna smash him with my giant mallet!” Harley said directly to John.

“Harley, wait,” Ivy said.

“I know, I know. Any mallet I own would be giant to him. But I mean the mallet that’s giant to me. It’s gonna be humongous to him,” Harley said with glee.

“No, I mean, why don’t we have some fun with him instead?” Ivy suggested. “Together.” Ivy took some more whipped cream off Harley’s chest and sucking her fingers clean.

“See, Red, this is why I like ya. Always thinking with the ol’ hot box!” Harley complimented.

“Well I don’t think that’s true,” Ivy said to the implication of her overly sexual decision making. “Anyway, he’s your project, so what should we do with him?”

“How about…a game of Wishbone!” Harley suggested, bouncing lightly.

“Oh, I don’t know, Harl. That’s a little too dangerous,” Ivy said with uncertainty.

“Pleeeeease! I worked really hard on him, Red. I deserve a treat!”

“Oh alright,” Ivy surrendered quickly. “We’ll play Wishbone.”

“Yay!” Harley cheered. John had no time to figure out what kind of game Wishbone was. As soon as Ivy gave the go-ahead, Harley picked him up and dunked him into the whipped cream on her tits. Once he was fully coated, Harley gave him one last wink and air kiss before popping his torso into her mouth. Not a single dollop of cream was kicked off his legs before Ivy came in and took the rest of John into her mouth. After Ivy and Harley started a countdown from 3 with their fingers, the game began.

Immediately after 1, Ivy and Harley began to suck on John. Hard. He thought his eyes would come out, or he’d be pulled in half. The name of the game was to suck the tiny into one’s mouth and swallow him before the other person could get him back. Harley had better sucking strength, so John went into her mouth first. However, Ivy’s tongue was more dexterous, so she got him back easily. Another strategy either used was trying to distract the other with sexual groping.

Harley knew how to knead Ivy’s breasts like a seasoned pro. Afterall, she was. This would cause Ivy to lose focus and moan heavily, relaxing her tongue’s grip and letting Harley suck him back into her mouth. Ivy wasn’t without her tricks, however. She knew how much Harley liked to have her ass played with and wasn’t above using that knowledge to her advantage. From simple squeezes, to spanking, to going knuckle deep inside her butt, Ivy did it all to keep Harley off her game.

By the end, Harley simply wanted it more, and managed to suck John into her mouth. However, she did so with such force that he slammed immediately into the back of her throat and fell down at a weird angle. Ivy pulled back when she felt Harley coughing.

“Oh shit! Harley!” Ivy exclaimed. Two hacking coughs later, and John came flying back out, landing directly on Ivy’s left breast. “Lovely,” she said, bemused. Ivy grabbed John, who was also coughing up all the spit he’d swallowed, by his ankle and held him up like the disgusting item she saw him as. Ivy continued to watch Harley cough, happy to see she was at least recovering. “This is why I don’t like Wishbone, Harl!”

“Best two out of three?” Harley said between coughs.

Ivy examined the dangling John and smirked. “I got a better idea. It’d be a shame to just kill something you worked so hard on. Why don’t you keep him?” Ivy suggested.

“What? Like a pet?” Harley answered, recovered from the poorly conceived game.

“More like a toy.”

“Why would I want a piece of shit like him as a toy?”

“Exactly.” Ivy smiled wickedly. After a few beats, Harley caught her meaning and shared in that smirk.

“Well, John,” Harley said to the confused, betrayed, and terrified ex-lawyer and future sex toy, “looks like your silver tongue has earned you a stay of execution and landed you in solitary confinement. I trust you’ll keep putting that tongue to good use, though.” John had no idea what she had planned, but he’d learn soon enough.

Ivy turned him right-side up and stood him upright on her leafy chair’s seat. She wouldn’t let him stand on his own, though. She kept one set of fingers pinched around his ankles, and another around his waist, pinning his arms down. Meanwhile, John watched as Harley sexily pulled down her panties and kicked them off her ankle. He started struggling in earnest, but it was no use.

“How many tinies have gone up your butt, Harl?” Ivy asked as John panicked and pleaded to deaf ears.

“Not nearly enough, Red,” Harley said as she stood with her back to them. Her hands reached back and pulled apart her cheeks. “Not nearly enough.” With those final words, Harley began to slowly lower herself toward John.

“No! No, please! I’m sorry, please don’t do this! I can’t go back up there! Let me go, please! I don’t- I don’t want to! NO!” John cried just before Harley’s asshole pressed down on his head and started to slowly open to accept him. Little by little Harley sat down on him. Ivy moved her fingers when appropriate to make room, while keeping John stiff and upright. She didn’t want him to accidentally break in the process.

Harley purred and bit her lip as she silenced the amateur manipulator with her enviable rear end. A second after Ivy removed her hands, Harley sat down onto the chair, and John was inside her – struggling with a newfound level of panic and desperation. Harley had a tiny orgasm from that alone. When she stood back up, Ivy saw that John’s feet were still kicking about outside of her asshole. The green woman reached up to push him in the rest of the way, but Harley stopped her.

“Leave him. I find that when you leave a little sticking out, they start to believe they can get themselves out,” Harley explained. “Keeps them hopeful. Keeps them moving,” she purred.

“It seems you have a lot to teach me about the utility and use of shrunken men,” Ivy admitted, standing up and throwing her arms around Harley’s waist. “Which reminds me. I have something I need to talk to you about.”

“What’s up, doc?” Harley asked while idly clenching her ass, forcing John to suffer further.

Ivy reconsidered. “Actually, it may be better if you hear it from Selina, instead. She has a business proposition.”

“Ooo, intrigue,” Harley happily replied. Harley pursed her lips and looked away for a moment. When her eyes came back to meet Ivy’s, she asked her a favor. “Do you think, maybe, you’d like to…watch the Three Stooges with me?”

Ivy smiled warmly. “Nothing would make me happier, Harley.” Her blonde lover lit up like a Christmas tree. “If you promise to share some more of that whipped cream with me,” Ivy joked.

“Ab-so-lutely!” Harley surprised Ivy by suddenly grabbing her head and shoving her face down into her cleavage, rubbing what was left of the whipped cream onto her shocked, green, face.

“Harley!” Ivy yelled after she broke free of the delicious grasp. Harley was already running toward the door. Smiling, Ivy yelled after her. “You’re going to get such a spanking, you bad girl!”

“Oh no!” Harley said with faux concern. “John will hate that!”

From then on, for the rest of his days, numbered though they were, John was nothing more than Harley Quinn’s buttplug.