He wasn't the first man Poison Ivy had used her unique strength to manipulate, nor would he likely be the last, but something made this prey very different than the rest she had conquered.  A woman who harbored a rightful amount of resentment towards the male species, there was an selfish sort of pleasure being the one whose will finally outmatched theirs.  To be able to call the shots, and take what she wanted, was an addiction Ivy had spent years catering to with uncanny success.  She had been robbed of her choices, taken advantage of and left to rot, and over the years, she had thoroughly enjoyed returning the favor to any man stupid enough to get tangled within the vixens grasp.  But this was different.  This man wasn't stupid.  This man wasn't ordinary.  This was Batman.  And for that alone, a whole new kind of gratification swelled within her, one vastly more hungry for a fix.<br/><br/>The croon in her throat as Batman heeded her guidance was that of pure praise, sweet and telling as his touch shifted to explore the tantalizing feel of her lust.  Again her hips rolled, indulging in the sensation, but in no obvious rush to amplify it as the motion was sensually slow though there was little question to its pleasurable purpose.  With one arm folding about his neck, Ivy's figure molded to him, the cushion of her breasts pressing against his chest as another sultry whine followed the hero's own raspy delight.  The moment of hesitation in Batman's reaching fingers was noted, but with her own hand still not retracting, Poison Ivy wouldn't let it last, and slid her delicate fingers to join his in encouragement.<br/><br/>With her digits lining his, Ivy coaxed the return of his seeping glide along her intimate petals, letting the evidence of her arousal cling to his fingers before drawing them back to caress the swollen bud of her precious flower with firm but gradual focus.  Her breath hinged, and as it was released on an approving sigh, her teeth raked softly at the plump bottom tier of Batman's lips.  "Savor it," she swooned, the soft command carried by her decadent and gentle panting as her other hand curled around the back of his head until her grip could fasten itself around the pointed ears of his cowl to tug him back and leave the expanse beneath his jaw open to her seductive kiss.<br/><br/>"Just like that, let your touch beg, and then feel how it blooms for you," Ivy continued, her voice coaching while the directive placement of her hand upon his ushered Batman to delve further, albeit slightly, into the slick he was producing.  "Nurture it, Batman. Cultivate the desire," she moaned, unable to stop the way her pelvis instinctively stroked against him as his attention milked her smoldering urges. "Remember," she said before another breathy pant came to interrupt her words.  "It's a pleasure, not a chore.  The fruits of your labor can give you all you could ever need."  A whining moan ended her statement, and both hands moved to grip the Dark Knight's broad shoulders.<br/><br/>Ivy could feel her body tremble, her pulse quicken and her womanhood quiver at the pleasure that was now left to his control.  Her words and body offered the hero promises both spoken and silent.  Promises that Poison Ivy was willing to keep with the exception of the strings she intented on rooting in him.  Vendictive as she was and as conniving as she could be, however, there was no deception in the way the villainess yearned against her hostage.  The intensity of her ever growing desire could not be falsified here.  Despite being remarkably talented in the art, there was no subduing her longing as this time it grew from a deeper place and not solely for the purpose of manipulation.  If she had ever had Batman where she wanted him, that time was now.