Harley's eyes fluttered open, the cold metal of the lab table beneath her sending shivers up her spine. The electrodes attached to her chest felt like tiny, invasive insects, and the ache in her head was a constant reminder of her recent blackout. She groaned, trying to piece together the fragments of her last memory—Batwoman, the Joker cock, the mindless submission. It all felt like a twisted dream now.
The door creaked open, and in walked Agent James, her expression as cold and unyielding as the steel walls of Arkham. Harley's heart raced, a mix of fear and defiance bubbling up inside her. The stern g-woman's words cut through the air like a spike, informing Harley of her new role in the GRAVEDIGGERS SQUAD and the micro explosive nestled at the base of her skull.
"No more head," Harley muttered under her breath, a manic grin spreading across her face. She wasn't one to be easily controlled, and the thought of being a pawn in someone else's game made her anger boil. She tried to make a run for it, but the moment her feet hit the floor, a searing pain shot through her body as the electric collar activated. She crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath, the shock leaving her body trembling.
Agent James stood over her, her eyes devoid of any emotion. "Get on your knees," she commanded, her voice a cold, unwavering. Harley's defiance wavered, the pain still fresh in her mind. Slowly, she complied, her knees hitting the cold floor with a thud. She looked up at the agent, her eyes filled with a mix of anger and desperation.
"Kiss my thigh," James ordered, her tone leaving no room for argument. Harley hesitated for a moment, but the threat of another shock was enough to make her lean forward and press her lips to the agent's thigh. The fabric of the pantyhose was smooth against her skin, and she could feel the warmth of James's body beneath it.
"Now suck my tits," James continued, her voice as cold as ever. Harley's eyes widened, but she knew better than to resist. She moved her hands to the agent's chest, feeling the firmness of her breasts through the fabric of her shirt. She leaned in, her lips brushing against the material as she began to suck, her mind a whirlwind of confusion and anger.
"Finally," James said, her voice cutting through Harley's thoughts, "masturbate to orgasm while you worship my legs and feet." Harley's heart pounded in her chest, the command sending a shiver down her spine. She reached down, her fingers finding the wetness between her legs as she began to stroke herself. Her eyes locked onto James's legs, the long, pantyhose-clad limbs dominating her vision. She leaned forward, her lips pressing against the fabric as she kissed and licked, her body responding to the commands despite her mind's resistance.
The room was filled with the sounds of Harley's moans and the rustle of fabric as she continued to worship James's legs and feet. Her orgasm built, the pleasure mingling with the humiliation of her situation. She could feel the agent's eyes on her, watching her every move, and it only fueled her arousal. With a final, shuddering gasp, she came, her body trembling as the waves of pleasure washed over her.
Agent James stood over her, her expression still as cold and unyielding as ever. "Good," she said, her voice devoid of any satisfaction. "Now, let's see if you can follow orders without the collar."
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