A mixture of different emotions cycled through your mind as you bent down and planted the first, fateful kiss on Poison Ivy’s big toe.
Shame. Disgust. Anger. Frustration.
But all of those paled in comparison to the utterly demoralizing realization that came shortly after your lips pursed together and pressed against the vixen’s painted toenail.
You liked it.
The Dark Knight, that inspired fear in the hearts of the most vile and villainous of Gotham City’s criminal underbelly, who single handedly brought down entire criminal empires with his intelligence and resilience, who also filled the halls of Arkham Asylum with a rogues gallery of psychopaths and career criminals, had just willingly subjected himself to the worst kind of humiliation possible at the hands of his greatest female adversary and somehow derided a perverse pleasure from it.
“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” came her taunting purr as you kissed her big toe. Your tongue briefly brushed up against her flesh as you stared back at her beaming down at you with that condescending look of hers.
In that moment, you wanted more than anything to wipe that smug grin off her face. You wanted more than anything to muster your strength back up, reach for that spare Batarang in your gauntlet, escape from her floral trap and simply take the cure by any means necessary.
But there was a small part of you, inexplicably growing larger and larger by the minute, that liked the taste of her skin against your battered lips. That welcomed this sudden reversal in the usual power dynamics between you and your rogues’ gallery. It was truly a startling emotional dichotomy you were forced to grapple with.
On one hand, you hated how she was doing this to you.
Yet somehow inexplicably, you also craved this sexual frustration that was awakening within you.
“Well, keep going. My other babies are getting jealous, Dark Knight. Won’t you make them feel better too?” she sneered, wiggling her other toes as well.
Then, swallowing whatever dignity you still had left you reluctantly bent down yet again and quickly plastered another quick kiss on her next longest toe.
Immediately sensing you trying to get through this quickly, Ivy immediately jolted her foot forward and into your open mouth.
“What are you-hmmphhh?” you gagged as her big and index toes entered in your mouth and rested on your tongue.
“Tsk tsk, Batman. You’re not making my babies feel very loved,” she scolded, wagging one finger in your face disapprovingly as the two toes currently in your mouth stretched out and began scratching at your uvula.
Tasting a mixture of her sweaty odor and some dirt that had accumulated underneath her toenails you held back some choice comments as she merely chuckled.
Then, just as soon as she put them in she sensually withdrew her toes from your mouth. Wiping your saliva off on the ground, she resumed her high arched pose for your viewing pleasure.
“Now, where were we?” she smiled, her emerald eyes gleaming in sadistic pleasure at your humbling at the hands, or rather the feet of Poison Ivy.
This time, you lingered a bit longer on her next toe. The sounds of your lips puckering against her toes must’ve been music to the redhead’s ears, because you could certainly feel the excitement and near ecstasy radiating off her scantily clad body.
“Oh. You have no idea how long I’ve waited to see you in your rightful place, Batman. Like all the other meat-sacks will soon be. Worshiping Mother Nature,” she exclaimed triumphantly, as you finally planted one last lingering kiss on her pinky toe.
Offering you the next one after she wiggled all of the toes that you had just finished kissing, Ivy was clearly enjoying every second of seeing you humble yourself like this for her entertainment.
It was heaven for her, and hell on earth for you.
Yet despite your mental objections, something in you began to change as you began planting more lingering and meaningful kisses on her foot. Not immediately, but gradually you felt a change in how you viewed her bare feet.
Before, they were simply disgusting appendages used to degrade and demoralize you. But now, with every second that your lips remained planted on her skin they became more...stimulating for your senses.
And as ashamed as you were to admit this, by the third toe on her second foot you were beginning to crave the salty taste of her sweat lining the sides of her toes. The feel of her womanly flesh against your bruised and battered jawline. The scent of her unwashed and pungent toes wafting into your nostrils.
Your disciplined mind fought against this idea, but your body had all but succumbed to it. Each time she plopped a toe in your mouth, your taste buds exploded in euphoric pleasure. Every caress of his tongue against her satiny bottom caused waves of pleasure to ripple through your body, especially in your groin area.
Her mocking laughter boomed above and all around you.
“Look at how pathetic you are, darling. To think that you somehow defeated me at the peak of my abilities at the Asylum is simply galling. But here you are, worshiping my feet.”
Then, as if that same impulse somehow bypassed your honed mental faculties and gained control of your body, your tongue shot out and licked in between her middle and ring toes. Pulling back into your mouth a few specks of dirt mixed in with what could possible be her toejam had quite the effect on you.
More surprising than that, it had quite the effect on Poison Ivy.
“Oooooh. Momma liked that,” came her sexy drawl, her voice suddenly husky and wanting, or at least more so than usual.
Her toes even began curling and clasping together in response as a heavy sigh escaped her lips.
“Do that again, Batman,” she half ordered half purred in a husky whisper, almost compelling you to make her aroused wish your command.
Another sigh drenched in ecstasy escaped her lips as your tongue explored the area between her ring toe and pinky toe, causing her to almost shudder in euphoric bliss.
Now with the bitter taste of her foot odor as well as the ground that she had walked on now firmly ingrained within your taste buds, you somehow found yourself becoming fixated with what you were doing.
It was quite possibly the equivalent of a recreational drug activating that dopamine high in your brain, only replaced with the natural taste of her bare feet.
So much so that you found yourself going back to doing just that after you finished kissing her pinky toe. Your tongue soon became blackened with the sweat and dirt glistening from her soles as you continued licking between her toes with the slavish attention of a dog trying to please its master.
The irony of that metaphor had hit you like an anvil from above, but you quickly jettisoned that from your mind as you found yourself hopelessly addicted to worshiping your archenemy’s bare feet.
Just as you were about to fully indulge yourself, she suddenly turned away from you. And just like an addicted user being denied his high, you let out an almost childish whimper as she stood with her back facing you.
She was still breathing heavily as your head remained bowed, both in shame for the shell of the man you’ve become to become whole again and more surprisingly in anticipation for what she has to say about this.
“You know what I think, Batman?” she finally said, one hand on her hips as she continued to face away from you.
This was the point where you would retort back in a last-ditch attempt to regain control of the situation, but unfortunately your actions had spoken louder than whatever words you could summon at the moment.
“I think you’re enjoying this. I think you like worshiping my sexy feet. I think you crave my taste, my scent, my everything. Am I correct in this assumption?” she smiled.
You couldn’t bring yourself to deny or argue against what was being said. Tilting her head back towards you with an absolutely sinister grin plastered across her face, you could only look back down.
To her, your silence was the only answer she needed.
“Like I told you once before lover, no man can resist Poison Ivy. Not even a Batman,” she smiled softly, her hand slowly creeping towards her groin area.
Most humiliating of all, instead of seeing her sneering face you were instead met with her bare ass, curving into her slender back.
“Tell me how much you want my feet, Batman!” she cooed in a singsong voice, as she lifted the other foot up to showcase her narrow and well-shaped arch.
“I-I…” You were at a loss for words. Now is usually the time for a clever rebuttal, a snarky comeback, anything to tell off the former botanist. But you couldn’t muster the strength to defy her again. Couldn’t, or more appropriately wouldn’t.
The words were almost out of your mouth before you even knew what was happening.
“You’ve the most beautiful feet I’ve ever laid eyes on. I-I want your feet more than anything. More than anything. More than...Gotham’s well-being. More than…”
Thankfully she held up a hand to silence your frantic ramblings.
“Good boy,” came her approving purr, one last condescending insult to emphatically rub in the inevitable: that Poison Ivy had broken the Batman.
“Do you see now how foolish you were, trying to attack your master? Gotham may be your city, but you are in my world now Batman. And look at you now. On your knees like the dog you are, rightfully worshiping the feet of your mistress. Harley may have feared you lover, but you’re just another meatsack who thought himself worthy of Mother Nature. And since we now both know how wrong you were,” came her scathing sneer, her words evoking a paradoxical blend of pure hatred and arousal that only fueled your sudden longing for the plant queen.
She then presented her other dirtied sole to you, her wrinkled flesh blackened with dirt for your awaiting tongue.
Poison Ivy then uttered the command that would forever seal your fate:
“Lick.”
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