DC: I am Dr Doom

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*****

"My apologies," I offered, holding up my hands to stop her from attacking. The cattle prod was inches from Harley's chest and the electricity was crackling fiercely. "How about a deal?"

"No fucking deal, there is no fighting in my bar," Mary hissed out as she stared us down.

"How about a new employee so you can take some weekends off?" I asked with a roguish grin on my face as I gently pushed the cattle prod away from us. "And we will throw in all-natural shampoo that will help with split ends and bring out the gloss with no grease."

Instantly two of the dupes of Mary took a step back. Did they somehow have slightly different personalities? Unfortunately, Mary, the one in front of us, did not take a step back at all.

"I don't want your deal. I want you to hand her over for punishment," Mary seethed from her location at the head of our booth.

"Can't we be civilized, Mary? Harley, apologize please," Pamela spoke up quickly from the other side of the booth. The look of defiance on Harley's face said it all, which meant that this could turn into a really long night. I sighed and worked my way out of the booth. As I got out, all three 'Marys' turned to me threateningly, having to look down due to our height differences.

"I don't like your kind," Mary stated as she looked into my eyes. "You think because you flash me a roguish smile I'll just drop my panties and do as you want?"

"My lady, I admit that you are a beauty, and compliments are always your rightful due. That is not my purpose at the moment, as I already have two exceedingly lovely companions with me tonight in Pamela and Harley," I answered with a smirk on the corner of my lips.

"Ha! As if, everyone knows that she belongs to the Joker," Mary snorted before readying the cattle prod to be used, this time on me.

"Not anymore, Mary, he went to visit Aunt Daisy," Harley sniffed from beside Pamela, while Mary caught me rolling my eyes at the euphemism. Villain culture obviously had their own little code phrases and terminology.

With that statement, the bar had gone truly silent, you could even hear the room's air vents blowing, as everyone was shocked into silence at this unbelievable news, and were now desperately trying to listen in on our conversation and hopefully hear more.

The Joker was a legendary/notorious figure in this town, seemingly immortal, it must have been like someone saying the President had just been assassinated, a shocking, improbable, and unbelievable event.

"What?" Mary whispered.

Sniff, sniff. "You heard me. Mistah J went to visit Aunt Daisy," Harley was able to get out before breaking down into fresh tears. Pamela went to comfort her while Mary had an unreadable look in her eye as she looked at me over.

"Damn."

"My lady wanted Harley back in her life. I don't share with other men," I replied ambiguously, with a shrug at the look Mary was giving me. Mary gave me one last assessing look, obviously reevaluating my threat level and everything she thought she knew about me, before growling and turning around to return to the bar.

Admitting to killing the Joker, even in this ambiguous way, was a calculated risk. It was a virtual certainty that this information would get back to Batman at some point, and it would undoubtedly raise my threat profile in the man's mind, confirming many of his fears, but that ship had already sailed. Thankfully, I had been extremely careful to ensure that there was little to no evidence actually proving I did it.

Of the two supervillains that most needed to die in this new world I found myself in, the Joker was the lesser of two evils, and the one that would bring much less reprisal from the Justice League and the world upon myself. Many in law enforcement might even secretly thank me for ending the psycho that had taken or ruined so many lives.

Killing him would also raise my profile and leave my mark on the underworld, leaving a power vacuum that I could ruthlessly exploit to make more money and increase my influence in this cesspool of a city. It would also send a clear message that I wasn't above permanently removing those who impeded my goals, or had what I wanted.

I was strongly considering getting involved in the drug trade in the future, specifically selling marijuana. The drug cartels in my old world were a multi-billion dollar a year business, a group that didn't even count their drug proceeds normally. No, they counted their money by the weight of the tractor trailer.

Selling marijuana was currently illegal in the United States, of course, but just like with my old world, a well crafted public relations campaign and bribes in the right pockets, could easily see marijuana legalized in this country, just like it was in much of Europe already.

Pam's powers meant that she could grow some truly epic shit in a wide variety of types and flavors. That would be a multi-billion dollar a year enterprise if done right, something perfectly suited for her powers. But these were plans for the future. I had another idea to use her powers, something more immediately useful, as it was already legal and part of the culture, but that was a plan that still required refinement.

"I want that shampoo ASAP, and it better be a year's supply," Mary huffed as she turned around. "Also, she starts Monday."

The quiet mutterings started back up as Mary walked away. Once she walked far enough, I turned around and gave Harley a look that said more than enough. With a sigh of exasperation, I took my seat back in the booth. I was positive, now that more than a few days had passed, that whatever was left of the Joker's corpse should be gone, in the bellies of many fish now.

Maybe I should send something into the bay to confirm that there was nothing left and if there was anything, to destroy it utterly via some other means. With a sigh, I placed those macabre thoughts out of my mind for the moment.

Soon after our little confrontation the food came, but before it was placed before us, Mary gave a fierce glare that cowed Harley. The glare lasted only for a moment, before Harley returned a cheeky smile in turn. That broke the dam and mellowed Mary enough to serve us.

The meal was delicious, as I had come to expect at Mary's bar, but the topic of conversation was what really drew my attention. Harley mentioned something like 'if her old teacher could see her now, Dr. Harleen Quinzel is about to become a serving wench.'

That drew a hearty laugh from me, then Pamela had to point out that serving wenches were supposed to be carried off by Viking Lords in the old days. Harley, in turn, pointed out that she had already been stolen away, but that I hadn't held up my end of the deal by ravishing her body to within an inch of her life. She almost got me to spit take with that one, as I was about to take a drink from my mug.

Placing the mug back onto the table, I took a look at her. I took a long, hard look at Harleen. Fair, clean skin, long silky locks with a face people would call extremely beautiful. Her body had rich, full curves in all the right places, and the look she was giving me spoke of her hunger, but it was more than that. The fact that Harley was a submissive, either by being turned into one by the Joker's actions or had always been one, was blindingly clear to me.

I saw in her eyes the offer of a most precious gift, her submission, and her desperate desire for me to accept that submission as her new master, to own her and care for her in all the ways the Joker had never done.

Honestly, part of me was hesitant to take on the role simply because I had been the one to kill the Joker, her last master. Another part of me was terribly excited by it. I knew myself, my mind and personality. My future was to rule. To be a King. I would never accept another person's power over me. I was an extreme dominant at heart, with a desire to rule all before me, though only a select few women would ever get to experience my sexual dominance.

Harley was beautiful and deadly, yet extremely intelligent, riding that fine line between insanity and brilliance. She also had a darkness in her heart that drew me in like a moth to a flame. Pamela too had that darkness. Any woman who stood at my side would need that darkness to accept me and my actions. A King needed his queens.

With these thoughts, I made a decision to accept her submission and it must have shone in my eyes because of the dark blush on Harley's cheeks, the unshed tears of happiness in her eyes, and the way she leaned towards me as if to beg for me to pet her. Perhaps, it was time to head home.

Pamela gave me a sultry look of happy acceptance as well, from over Harley's shoulder, a look that said she recognized the unspoken contract that had just been struck between Harley and me. We all got up within moments preparing to leave the bar.

Turning around, I dropped a large stack of hundreds onto the table to cover the food and all the other unpleasantness tonight. I had no problems leaving five grand on the table within this place because no one wants to cross Mary and get banned from the only establishment in Gotham that would take them. I had many other options for drinks and food, of course, but the bar was an excellent place to get information and contact people that were otherwise very hard to get a hold of. With a wave of goodnight to the bar owner, we hustled out of there quickly.

Pamela was doing her sexy predatory catwalk while Harley ran off to the parking lot. I guess Harley was really excited to formalize our new relationship and get some dick tonight. I can't really blame her since I too was eager to bed her. Taking Pamela's hand in my own, we made our way after Harley when we heard a loud exclamation.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!"

Sharing a look with Pamela, I picked us both up with my telekinetic abilities and flew the half-block distance, our feet a few inches off the ground. What greeted us was a small ring of bodies lying around my car. For a moment I was stunned at the sheer number of unconscious idiots who had obviously tried and failed to steal my car, before shaking my head at how stupid people could be.

Ignoring the lot, I quickly looted the bodies of all their cash and valuables, and even picked up all of their bats and other tools to place them within my truck. Waste not, want not. I was certain that Harley could use the extra bats for something or other.

With that complete, I created a telekinetic net to move the bodies of the thugs to the sidewalk, allowing my vehicle space to drive away without running them over. I held the door open for both ladies this time, unlike earlier in the night when only Pamela received such treatment.

This was a clear indicator that I now considered Harley mine to cherish and care for, and then got in the driver's seat myself. Harley, being the brilliant study of human behavior she was, recognized my action for what it was, giving me a brilliant smile once I was behind the wheel. Did I notice the folded note that was held under my windshield wipers?

Rolling down the driver's side window, I used my telekinetic abilities to summon the note within the car and into my hand. With the note in hand, I saw there was a double fold with a black-suited penguin on the outside of this high quality paper. Noticing the little insignia, I couldn't help quirking an eyebrow at just how quickly he'd gotten the information I requested.

Inside, I found information on the person I was looking for with a phone number and address included. The number and address were interesting, alright. I was certain the only reason this information was 'free' was because he heard about me offing the Joker tonight.

Undoubtedly the Penguin was already moving in on the Joker's former territory now, likely smelling an opportunity to expand his operations and influence. That was likely valuable enough on its own to pay for this information in his mind. Still, even if the information had been indirectly paid for, it was probably best to pay the man something direct as well for his work. This way I can maintain a respectful business relationship with the man. Paying him also shows that Doom always pays his debts.

The note read: 'Deadshot is located in BlackGates' triple secure cell block four, cell five. He is now part of Waller's Suicide Squad.'

The note was short and to the point, but that name raised many red flags for me. Removing Batman's rogue gallery was one thing, sticking my hand within Waller's piggy bank was quite another. For my plans, only Doom can absolve him of his crimes. Placing the note within the center console, it was time to head home.

***

When we pulled into the driveway of the house we felt the invisible force field wash over us. Harley couldn't keep it in her pants even a moment longer, working her way from the backseat to the front. Harley placed herself right in Pamela's lap. Lips mingled as deep kisses were shared. The look that Pamela gave me as Harley kissed down the nape of her neck made me hard as steel, the show they were putting on was all that was needed to get me in the mood.

I gunned the engine in impatience to fly up the driveway and drifted into the empty space in front of the house like a stunt driver, coming to a quick stop. Within moments we were out of the vehicle and in the greenhouse.

There was no time to take my shirt off as Pamela just ripped it open from the front, exposing my chiseled musculature. She was already completely naked and waiting for me and Harley. Taking a moment to look back, I noticed the trail of discarded plant life trailing our steps into the bedroom. My attention was brought back to the girls, with the kisses that they both worked down my smooth chest.

Noticing that Harley was still wearing her shirt, I divested her of it by also ripping it from her body. While showing Harley my appreciation of her perky tits with my lips and tongue, Pamela trailed her hands down my chest to my waist and removed my pants. My long and thick shaft sprang forth, smacking hard into Harley's thigh as I ravaged her chest, switching from one plump breast to the other. Levitating Harley up, I placed her gently on the bed while using my other arm to bring Pamela to my front so that she could have her turn.

*****

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