"You was supposed to go potty," Harley groaned as she forced the butt plug back into his clenching asshole. She untied his leash from the wall and wrapped it around her hand. "Sigh, guess we'll try again tomorrow."
Barry kept silent under the muzzle. He and she both knew he wouldn't go tomorrow either.
With the leash pulled tightly, he couldn't even turn his head away from her. His knees and hands were hovered from the ground when she pulled him through the puddles of piss and shit on the floor.
"C'moooonn," yelled Harley, "It's almost bedtime. Baby's gotta go to sleep."
He sighed. He was actually relieved. Looking forward to being shoved into the cage. With the pee-soaked newspapers, the expectation to play with toys and bones that would inevitably shatter his teeth, the hot darkness that was locked metal covered with a blanket. Anything that would keep him away from her, and out of this scat hall. As far as he knew, there wasn't anything new waiting. He's seen it all, enough for a lifetime of hysterical laughter and therapy circle storytelling. The cage and bedtime didn't seem all that bad.
She would lead the way and he'd attempt to comply. Clenching his eyes only made the smell worse and forced the tears to build up in his burning eyes.
They stopped. "Stay," she commanded.
The waft of wet pussy took over the smell. Barry's eyes fluttered open to find Harley standing in front of him, with him between her legs. He struggled to focus on her legs, the floor, virtually anything else. The ring was making his cock ache and this was going to do no good.
"You sit. Sit."
He lowered onto his butt. He prayed she wouldn't have him like this for long. Between leaning on his hands to take pressure off the butt plug and keeping his face away from her g-string ass crack, plus the force of the leash, he was scared to collapse and disobey like a bad boy.
In what seemed like forever, she pulled a keyring out and found the right key. She pushed a hand into his head, smacking his face with keys when she scruffed his hair. "Gwood bwoy."
Harley opened the door and Barry bolted into the room. He'd go in the corner where the kennel was, in case he'd have to hurry into it. He wouldn't turn around to look back.
She laughed. "Oh alright. Ten minutes to play." She started towards the other side of the room. "But ya muzzle gotta stay on so ya don't keep the baby up."
He would have to look back now. Baby? What baby? This got his head racing and heart thinking. Were they not alone this entire day? Did she just kidnap somebody new, or have they been listening to this entire ordeal?
Barry crawled over, following Harley from behind. He had a weird urge, almost innate, to start using his nose to scope out the situation.
Who? What?
Harley's hand reached back to shove his nose and muzzle away. "SSHH."
Where his tease table had once been was now an adorable scene. A little television with a warped image, playing a cartoon from his childhood. Facing it was a large magenta seat - one of the five point harness special needs ones he's seen during a couple investigations. A head peering out the top, ashy blonde pigtails thrashing as she pouted.
"Puppy, shoo!" Harley groaned. "I gotta give baby medicine and you're gonna leave me alone."
The girl in the seat was around his age. In fact, he was sure that he'd met her somewhere before. Only if she could speak instead of protesting through a pacifier that was clipped around her head.
Harley didn't hold back when threatening the girl, despite the girl's placed role of an innocent child. Barry wasn't sure what it meant, but it could've easily been near-death for the girl. Things about using red on the girl, or "silver" if it came down to it, if the crying didn't stop.
By the looks of it, she was starting to calm down. Into a drugged trance that he's come to know all too well. Her hands clenched the top of the seat and reached around for - she wasn't sure what, and her arm was splotted with needle marks similar to his.
Harley crouched down next to her seat. Shoving a big pink hippopotamus in her face. Squeaking a feathered cat toy against her cheek.
The girl knew Barry was there. A mist of blue showed through the red when she looked back at him. Super girl Kara. Kara Danvers.
What was she doing here? What business did Harley have with her? Business with him, he could sort of understand. But Kara hasn't done anything wrong, has actually done all the right she caj, and definitely has nothing to give to a woman like Quinn.
"As a matter a'fact," Harley said, dropping the toys to pat her knees. "C'mere, pup."
He didn't know what to expect to happen. How much worse it could get. Slowly approaching the chair.
Kara's tutu poured out the side of the seat. Frilly, humiliatingly and exhaustingly pink. Her pigtails draped over the word "Mommy's" on her shirt, while sparkly pink "Little Girl" was fitted over her thin frame. The shirt was almost too small, showing the curve of her belly, but it must've been part of the aesthetic. To match the sparkly leather accessory collar around her neck, buckled together by a metal heart in the middle. And to go with her socks, their sparkling pink stripes and frilly ankles, which admittedly were cute albeit unnecessary.
Her teeth ground on the pacifier teat. She was horrified to be seen like this, and terrified by the leather cage that locked Barry's jaw shut, and especially curious about Harley's incessant smiling. She'd soaked her diaper in fear and defiance, and it was beginning to burn the silky tissue of her vulva, but she'd be alright doing it again if it got her out of the chair and got Harley to stop letting Barry stare in confusion.