This is a sequel to my story Spider-Gwen v Funhouse, written by Thirsty11 and edited by me. If you like this, drop a comment and let him know. Enjoy!
Joseph Grimaldi was a bit frustrated. His funhouse encounter with Spider-Gwen last month had been entertaining, but he couldn't make a habit of trapping her. After all, she was busy defending the city from criminals. "Hmmm. From criminals." he thought to himself.
"Archimedes. What city has the most notorious female criminals?" Grimaldi asked.
"Gotham City, sir" came the reply.
Scroling through his tablet, Grimaldi looks at the headlines, detailing criminal exploits over the past years. One name came up more than others. Harley Quinn. A few taps of a keyboard brought up a file.
"Definitely attractive under all that makeup. Resembles a gymnast. I'll have to figure out how to get her out of those little boots" he said to himself as he began to write notes. "Archimedes, look for vacant property in Gotham."
Seven months later...
It was a hot July day, as Harley Quinn stared at the partially destroyed roof of her building in Coney Island. She bit her lip in frustration at the cost of the repairs, as she gripped the invoice in her fist. There was a time when she would have just busted the contractor’s lip and forced him to do the job cheaper, but she had worked too hard on her reputation since leaving Joker to ruin it now.
“Well that’s the last time I let Power Girl do Jell-O shots at my place.” She grumbled, and kicked a piece of rubble with her sneaker. “How the heck am I gonna come up with the dough to fix this?”
“Hey Harley,” the voice behind her was that of Big Tony. Close friend and one of her tenants. “I might know the solution to yer problem.”
“I’m all ears, lay it on me handsome.” She smiled a little.
Tony blushed, and then cleared his throat. “Well during the party someone let it slip that some guy is challenging people to run through some kinda funhouse. He’s offering 25 large, so far nobody has made it.”
While Harley might appear to be a ditzy blonde to some, her mama didn’t raise a fool. This was probably something Joker set up to test new henchmen and rebuild his gang. If she bet that 25k that this was a trap, she’d double her money. She briefly weighed her options, then sighed. Everyone had been counting on her to protect them, and keep a roof over their heads. They had all been good friends, she couldn’t let them down now.
“Where?” She asked, her face serious.
“Gotham.” Tony said, his face one of concern as he help up a hastily scrawled address on a napkin.
“Yep, definitely a trap.” She thought, then dropped through the crater sized hole in the roof to her bedroom. After a moment of fiddling around in the closet, she produced her old costume. “Might as well look the part.” She smirked.
Although he was irritated at having to track his query to a new location, finding out that she was no longer a criminal had caused him to switch gears. Once his contacts had notified him of Harley’s 4th of July bash, it sparked inspiration. Some hallucinogens carefully mixed in with cherry gelatin worked wonders. And once again his actor had earned his pay.
Now, all Grimaldi had to do was wait. Late in the morning, a day later, he saw the familiar red and black costume, moving stealthily down the street toward his funhouse. He'd purposely left the outside door with an easily picked lock.
Harley quickly gained entry, taking one step down onto a dusty floor. It was covered in a fine powder, that rose as she walked, covering her soft boots. "Looks like they didn't use any of that money for a cleaning lady!" Harley quipped to herself.
She was a few steps in, when a heavy steel door slammed shut behind her, plunging her into darkness and cutting off her only escape. A dim light came on at the end of the hall.
"Welcome Harley, my name is Funhouse!" Grimaldi said through a speaker.
"Let me guess, you wanna offer me a job as your maid? This place needs a good cleaning, before it can be any fun. I'm just here for the cash. Be a good boy, and fetch it for me?” Harley spoke back at the disembodied voice. It definitely wasn’t Joker, he wouldn’t be able to resist taking credit for this trap. As she stood there, she noticed a persistent, aggravating itch on the sole of her right foot.
"But that wouldn't be any fun for me! But since you asked so nice, I’ll tell you where it is. It's on the roof, in the north ventilation shaft. When you get there, go to the west side. The elevator will be there and will take you to the exit. Oh, and by the way. That's not just dust you're standing in.”
There was no denying it, as Harley began shuffling her feet a little, this itching powder had somehow penetrated her boots, and was worse than Joker’s.
“That's my own special brand of itching powder, I thought you’d appreciate it. Once it’s activated by body heat, it bonds with any material permanently.” She could hear Funhouse chuckle, as a light came on at the end of the hall.
The itching sensation on her feet was becoming unbearable, and she had to move carefully lest it cover her entire outfit. She hopped, skipped and ran gingerly to the end of the hall, rubbing one foot on the other. As she neared the spotlight, she noticed a fountain where she could rinse it off her feet.
Harley quickly took off her boots, and rinsed her bare feet and hands in the running water. She breathed a sigh of relief, then discarded her boots and gloves.
“Some funhouse...” She grumbled, making sure to wash every inch of her pale white feet.
“On the contrary!" said Funhouse in his control room. "I found it quite fun!" He watched his cameras closely, zooming in on Harley's now bare feet. She had quite attractive feet, small, high arches, straight toes, painted red and black, just like her outfit. Harley had placed her feet back under the running water, and was scrubbing vigorously between her toes. The water was turning ice cold, doubtless a way to get her moving along.
Harley looked at the steps in front of her. Stairs made of expanded metal. That might be a little sharp on her feet, but she didn't have much choice. She quickly climbed up the stairs to the next level, leaving wet foot prints on the cool steel floor as she entered.
As she waited for the lights to come on, she rubbed the soles of her chilly feet against her calves a little. “You know, you could at least get a girl some way to warm her feet up after that cold water!" yelled Harley at the darkness.
“Oh I think we can accommodate you!"exclaimed Funhouse, as he flipped a switch. The lights came on, revealing metal walls and floors, with a series of pipes overhead, some red, some blue. She could hear running water flowing through them.
“So who’s your decorator? The Mario Brothers? “ Harley snarked, and began to walk forward. The wet footprints she left behind started to evaporate as the floor heated up. “What the f...?! Ow! Ow! Ouch! Hot!" cried Harley as she started hopping from foot to foot. It wasn’t hot enough to burn, but it was definitely uncomfortable.
Harley, desperately seeking an escape from the hot floor leapt up and grabbed onto the nearest pipe, a blue one. It was cool to the touch. Using her gymnastic skills, she swung her body back and forth, gaining momentum so she could reach the next pipe without touching the floor.
“Ha! You’ve gotta do better than this.” A smile spread across her face as she released from the pipe she executed a nearly perfect backflip, and grabbed the next pipe, a red one.
“Yeow!” She yelped, scorching her hands a bit, instinctively letting go. She hit the hot floor, and began to hop forward. “Ow! Ooh! Ouch! Ow" Harley yipped as she ran, and made a huge leap upward, just barely catching the blue pipe. She perched on the pipe momentarily, and examined her feet. Her soles were a little pink from the heat, but otherwise okay.
“You’re gettin’ a fat lip if I get my hands on you.” Harley said, and swung her way to the exit.
“Well, that cheeky little vixen!" Grimaldi said to himself. " I guess that's the quality of people here in Gotham.
There were no pipes for the last few yards before the exit. Harley sighed, gritted her teeth, and swung as far as she could. She made a perfect landing, then sucked in breath through pursed lips. “Sssssss.... aaaahhhh... ow ow OW! Hot Hot Hot! “It was like the last time she went to the beach and lost her sandals. With a final hop, she landed on the cool metal steps.
“I’m still waiting for the FUN part of this funhouse!” Harley said, sighing at the relief the cool metal steps provided her now bubblegum pink soles.
"Maybe it’s not fun for you.” replied Funhouse. Sitting comfortably in his control room. “But I’m having the time of my life.”
Harley gingerly walked up the next set of stairs. This level was dimly lit, making it difficult to see where she was going. The floor, once again was metal. Her pulse began to race at the thought of another hotfoot.
As she passed the trigger to close her path behind her, she felt the jolt of an electric shock under her feet. “Yeow!” She squealed, and leapt in the air. As soon as her feet hit the floor again, her already sensitive soles were greeted by more jolts.
Funhouse pressed a button, turning on the lights. What Harley saw in front of her was the longest hopscotch game she’d ever seen. The board itself was black, drawn with chalk. The surrounding floor was a series of copper strips. "Ouch! Mother!..." Harley quipped, trying to find a safe spot. As soon as her feet hit the “1” square, the shocking stopped. Her entire body was tingling, and her feet throbbed.
She briefly considered sitting down to rub them, but felt the square she was standing on begin to warm. Harley sighed, and began skipping along playing the hopscotch game.
Grimaldi zoomed in on her hopping feet, making sure to focus occasionally on her pink soles. As she hopped along, a slight smile spread across her face as a realization dawned on her. Nothing in this so called funhouse could really hurt her. Not permanently. It was more like a series of somewhat mean spirited pranks, he was playing, in his own way. Could anyone undoubtedly watching her play hopscotch really have malicious intent?
As Harley got lost in her own thoughts, she misstepped, and landed on the right tile with the wrong foot. “Yeowch!” another electric shock brought her back to reality. It was difficult to think as the bottoms of her feet were being stung. A few hops later, accompanied by a string of cussing brought her to the end. If not for the electricity, that might have been fun.
As a tired, frazzled Harley made her way up the final set up steps, she wondered what awaited her on the roof. A sun baked tar floor? Rough gravel? Or something more nasty? She sighed as she pushed open the door. What she was met with surprised her.
The roof was covered with a white soft looking floor. As Harley stepped out she noticed that it was surprisingly cool and comfortable. Her feet sunk slightly almost as she was walking on gel or foam. It was like a massage. “Mmmmm...” Harley couldn’t help but relax, the floor felt amazing on her sensitized feet.
He watched closely as she walked toward her goal. Her feet, leaving gentle indentations in the rooftop floor. “Archimedes,” Grimaldi spoke, “I want molds of her feet began as soon as she’s clear.”
“Yes sir.” Was the response from his faithful robotic servant.
After a few moments, Harley reached the northwest ventilation shaft. She squealed with delight as the briefcase popped open. The cash was laid inside neatly, along with an exact replica of her harlequin style boots. After a brief inspection, she donned them, surprised at how perfectly they fit.
“Like them? They cost five thousand dollars each.” Grimaldi’s disembodied voice announced. Harley’s jaw dropped before she composed herself.
“So what? You’re into feet or something?” She knew from her days as a psychiatrist this was surprisingly common. Her feet, being so ticklish, were Joker’s favorite target. In fact, he’s the one who had insisted she wear those boots in the first place.
“You could say that.” Joseph grinned. His fortune afforded him to indulge in it with impunity. “You’re free to go, there’s an elevator to your left. You’ll find there’s more than enough ‘bonus’ cash to get you back home in luxury.
“Yeah, thanks.” She said, pressing the down arrow to summon the elevator. Harley smiled a little. An hour of kinky fun for a jillionaire netted her 25 large, no strings attached. She’d come across worse guys in her life. She wasn’t sure if her feet were still tingling from the electricity, or if there was a slight vibration under her booted feet.
“I must warn you!" said Funhouse over a speaker, "the elevator is incredibly slow!" as he stifled a giggle.
“Yeah, yeah!"said Harley as she waited, shifting her feet slightly uncomfortably, "It's gotta be better than your not fun house! I didn’t laugh once.”
The elevator finally arrived, and Harley stepped off the roof onto a soft carpet of the elevator.
“Be careful what you wish for! Because this might be the most fun of all!" said Funhouse over the speaker.
Harley began to notice a sensation, ever so slight at first, building under her soles, and through her boots.
“Oh shiiiihahahahaha!” She began to giggle. Then laugh, ever stronger. She started to lift her feet, but the fatigue from the earlier torments had worn her down. Soon she collapsed on the floor, but the thin material of her costume offered little protection from the tickling fibers of the carpet.
And the elevator moved with the blinding speed of an earthworm, giving it ample time to toment and tickle the feet and body of the notorious Harley Quinn.
Sitting in his control booth, Joseph Grimaldi brought up a database of female heroes and villains. “Who’s next?” He wondered aloud.
Joseph Grimaldi was a bit frustrated. His funhouse encounter with Spider-Gwen last month had been entertaining, but he couldn't make a habit of trapping her. After all, she was busy defending the city from criminals. "Hmmm. From criminals." he thought to himself.
"Archimedes. What city has the most notorious female criminals?" Grimaldi asked.
"Gotham City, sir" came the reply.
Scroling through his tablet, Grimaldi looks at the headlines, detailing criminal exploits over the past years. One name came up more than others. Harley Quinn. A few taps of a keyboard brought up a file.
"Definitely attractive under all that makeup. Resembles a gymnast. I'll have to figure out how to get her out of those little boots" he said to himself as he began to write notes. "Archimedes, look for vacant property in Gotham."
Seven months later...
It was a hot July day, as Harley Quinn stared at the partially destroyed roof of her building in Coney Island. She bit her lip in frustration at the cost of the repairs, as she gripped the invoice in her fist. There was a time when she would have just busted the contractor’s lip and forced him to do the job cheaper, but she had worked too hard on her reputation since leaving Joker to ruin it now.
“Well that’s the last time I let Power Girl do Jell-O shots at my place.” She grumbled, and kicked a piece of rubble with her sneaker. “How the heck am I gonna come up with the dough to fix this?”
“Hey Harley,” the voice behind her was that of Big Tony. Close friend and one of her tenants. “I might know the solution to yer problem.”
“I’m all ears, lay it on me handsome.” She smiled a little.
Tony blushed, and then cleared his throat. “Well during the party someone let it slip that some guy is challenging people to run through some kinda funhouse. He’s offering 25 large, so far nobody has made it.”
While Harley might appear to be a ditzy blonde to some, her mama didn’t raise a fool. This was probably something Joker set up to test new henchmen and rebuild his gang. If she bet that 25k that this was a trap, she’d double her money. She briefly weighed her options, then sighed. Everyone had been counting on her to protect them, and keep a roof over their heads. They had all been good friends, she couldn’t let them down now.
“Where?” She asked, her face serious.
“Gotham.” Tony said, his face one of concern as he help up a hastily scrawled address on a napkin.
“Yep, definitely a trap.” She thought, then dropped through the crater sized hole in the roof to her bedroom. After a moment of fiddling around in the closet, she produced her old costume. “Might as well look the part.” She smirked.
Although he was irritated at having to track his query to a new location, finding out that she was no longer a criminal had caused him to switch gears. Once his contacts had notified him of Harley’s 4th of July bash, it sparked inspiration. Some hallucinogens carefully mixed in with cherry gelatin worked wonders. And once again his actor had earned his pay.
Now, all Grimaldi had to do was wait. Late in the morning, a day later, he saw the familiar red and black costume, moving stealthily down the street toward his funhouse. He'd purposely left the outside door with an easily picked lock.
Harley quickly gained entry, taking one step down onto a dusty floor. It was covered in a fine powder, that rose as she walked, covering her soft boots. "Looks like they didn't use any of that money for a cleaning lady!" Harley quipped to herself.
She was a few steps in, when a heavy steel door slammed shut behind her, plunging her into darkness and cutting off her only escape. A dim light came on at the end of the hall.
"Welcome Harley, my name is Funhouse!" Grimaldi said through a speaker.
"Let me guess, you wanna offer me a job as your maid? This place needs a good cleaning, before it can be any fun. I'm just here for the cash. Be a good boy, and fetch it for me?” Harley spoke back at the disembodied voice. It definitely wasn’t Joker, he wouldn’t be able to resist taking credit for this trap. As she stood there, she noticed a persistent, aggravating itch on the sole of her right foot.
"But that wouldn't be any fun for me! But since you asked so nice, I’ll tell you where it is. It's on the roof, in the north ventilation shaft. When you get there, go to the west side. The elevator will be there and will take you to the exit. Oh, and by the way. That's not just dust you're standing in.”
There was no denying it, as Harley began shuffling her feet a little, this itching powder had somehow penetrated her boots, and was worse than Joker’s.
“That's my own special brand of itching powder, I thought you’d appreciate it. Once it’s activated by body heat, it bonds with any material permanently.” She could hear Funhouse chuckle, as a light came on at the end of the hall.
The itching sensation on her feet was becoming unbearable, and she had to move carefully lest it cover her entire outfit. She hopped, skipped and ran gingerly to the end of the hall, rubbing one foot on the other. As she neared the spotlight, she noticed a fountain where she could rinse it off her feet.
Harley quickly took off her boots, and rinsed her bare feet and hands in the running water. She breathed a sigh of relief, then discarded her boots and gloves.
“Some funhouse...” She grumbled, making sure to wash every inch of her pale white feet.
“On the contrary!" said Funhouse in his control room. "I found it quite fun!" He watched his cameras closely, zooming in on Harley's now bare feet. She had quite attractive feet, small, high arches, straight toes, painted red and black, just like her outfit. Harley had placed her feet back under the running water, and was scrubbing vigorously between her toes. The water was turning ice cold, doubtless a way to get her moving along.
Harley looked at the steps in front of her. Stairs made of expanded metal. That might be a little sharp on her feet, but she didn't have much choice. She quickly climbed up the stairs to the next level, leaving wet foot prints on the cool steel floor as she entered.
As she waited for the lights to come on, she rubbed the soles of her chilly feet against her calves a little. “You know, you could at least get a girl some way to warm her feet up after that cold water!" yelled Harley at the darkness.
“Oh I think we can accommodate you!"exclaimed Funhouse, as he flipped a switch. The lights came on, revealing metal walls and floors, with a series of pipes overhead, some red, some blue. She could hear running water flowing through them.
“So who’s your decorator? The Mario Brothers? “ Harley snarked, and began to walk forward. The wet footprints she left behind started to evaporate as the floor heated up. “What the f...?! Ow! Ow! Ouch! Hot!" cried Harley as she started hopping from foot to foot. It wasn’t hot enough to burn, but it was definitely uncomfortable.
Harley, desperately seeking an escape from the hot floor leapt up and grabbed onto the nearest pipe, a blue one. It was cool to the touch. Using her gymnastic skills, she swung her body back and forth, gaining momentum so she could reach the next pipe without touching the floor.
“Ha! You’ve gotta do better than this.” A smile spread across her face as she released from the pipe she executed a nearly perfect backflip, and grabbed the next pipe, a red one.
“Yeow!” She yelped, scorching her hands a bit, instinctively letting go. She hit the hot floor, and began to hop forward. “Ow! Ooh! Ouch! Ow" Harley yipped as she ran, and made a huge leap upward, just barely catching the blue pipe. She perched on the pipe momentarily, and examined her feet. Her soles were a little pink from the heat, but otherwise okay.
“You’re gettin’ a fat lip if I get my hands on you.” Harley said, and swung her way to the exit.
“Well, that cheeky little vixen!" Grimaldi said to himself. " I guess that's the quality of people here in Gotham.
There were no pipes for the last few yards before the exit. Harley sighed, gritted her teeth, and swung as far as she could. She made a perfect landing, then sucked in breath through pursed lips. “Sssssss.... aaaahhhh... ow ow OW! Hot Hot Hot! “It was like the last time she went to the beach and lost her sandals. With a final hop, she landed on the cool metal steps.
“I’m still waiting for the FUN part of this funhouse!” Harley said, sighing at the relief the cool metal steps provided her now bubblegum pink soles.
"Maybe it’s not fun for you.” replied Funhouse. Sitting comfortably in his control room. “But I’m having the time of my life.”
Harley gingerly walked up the next set of stairs. This level was dimly lit, making it difficult to see where she was going. The floor, once again was metal. Her pulse began to race at the thought of another hotfoot.
As she passed the trigger to close her path behind her, she felt the jolt of an electric shock under her feet. “Yeow!” She squealed, and leapt in the air. As soon as her feet hit the floor again, her already sensitive soles were greeted by more jolts.
Funhouse pressed a button, turning on the lights. What Harley saw in front of her was the longest hopscotch game she’d ever seen. The board itself was black, drawn with chalk. The surrounding floor was a series of copper strips. "Ouch! Mother!..." Harley quipped, trying to find a safe spot. As soon as her feet hit the “1” square, the shocking stopped. Her entire body was tingling, and her feet throbbed.
She briefly considered sitting down to rub them, but felt the square she was standing on begin to warm. Harley sighed, and began skipping along playing the hopscotch game.
Grimaldi zoomed in on her hopping feet, making sure to focus occasionally on her pink soles. As she hopped along, a slight smile spread across her face as a realization dawned on her. Nothing in this so called funhouse could really hurt her. Not permanently. It was more like a series of somewhat mean spirited pranks, he was playing, in his own way. Could anyone undoubtedly watching her play hopscotch really have malicious intent?
As Harley got lost in her own thoughts, she misstepped, and landed on the right tile with the wrong foot. “Yeowch!” another electric shock brought her back to reality. It was difficult to think as the bottoms of her feet were being stung. A few hops later, accompanied by a string of cussing brought her to the end. If not for the electricity, that might have been fun.
As a tired, frazzled Harley made her way up the final set up steps, she wondered what awaited her on the roof. A sun baked tar floor? Rough gravel? Or something more nasty? She sighed as she pushed open the door. What she was met with surprised her.
The roof was covered with a white soft looking floor. As Harley stepped out she noticed that it was surprisingly cool and comfortable. Her feet sunk slightly almost as she was walking on gel or foam. It was like a massage. “Mmmmm...” Harley couldn’t help but relax, the floor felt amazing on her sensitized feet.
He watched closely as she walked toward her goal. Her feet, leaving gentle indentations in the rooftop floor. “Archimedes,” Grimaldi spoke, “I want molds of her feet began as soon as she’s clear.”
“Yes sir.” Was the response from his faithful robotic servant.
After a few moments, Harley reached the northwest ventilation shaft. She squealed with delight as the briefcase popped open. The cash was laid inside neatly, along with an exact replica of her harlequin style boots. After a brief inspection, she donned them, surprised at how perfectly they fit.
“Like them? They cost five thousand dollars each.” Grimaldi’s disembodied voice announced. Harley’s jaw dropped before she composed herself.
“So what? You’re into feet or something?” She knew from her days as a psychiatrist this was surprisingly common. Her feet, being so ticklish, were Joker’s favorite target. In fact, he’s the one who had insisted she wear those boots in the first place.
“You could say that.” Joseph grinned. His fortune afforded him to indulge in it with impunity. “You’re free to go, there’s an elevator to your left. You’ll find there’s more than enough ‘bonus’ cash to get you back home in luxury.
“Yeah, thanks.” She said, pressing the down arrow to summon the elevator. Harley smiled a little. An hour of kinky fun for a jillionaire netted her 25 large, no strings attached. She’d come across worse guys in her life. She wasn’t sure if her feet were still tingling from the electricity, or if there was a slight vibration under her booted feet.
“I must warn you!" said Funhouse over a speaker, "the elevator is incredibly slow!" as he stifled a giggle.
“Yeah, yeah!"said Harley as she waited, shifting her feet slightly uncomfortably, "It's gotta be better than your not fun house! I didn’t laugh once.”
The elevator finally arrived, and Harley stepped off the roof onto a soft carpet of the elevator.
“Be careful what you wish for! Because this might be the most fun of all!" said Funhouse over the speaker.
Harley began to notice a sensation, ever so slight at first, building under her soles, and through her boots.
“Oh shiiiihahahahaha!” She began to giggle. Then laugh, ever stronger. She started to lift her feet, but the fatigue from the earlier torments had worn her down. Soon she collapsed on the floor, but the thin material of her costume offered little protection from the tickling fibers of the carpet.
And the elevator moved with the blinding speed of an earthworm, giving it ample time to toment and tickle the feet and body of the notorious Harley Quinn.
Sitting in his control booth, Joseph Grimaldi brought up a database of female heroes and villains. “Who’s next?” He wondered aloud.
