With such a big crowd at this year's Comicon security had been bumped up to try and limit anyone sneaking anything in.
The guard had pulled the Harley Quinn Cosplayer out of the crowds cramming through the main gates because of the very realistic - real it turned out - baseball bat she had slung over her shoulder; paper-mache was fine but she couldn't just walk in with an actual weapon after all!
Professionalism stopped her commenting on the incredibly accurate costume, she even sounded like the character! Even so she was a little guilty at having to handcuff the cosplayer and lead her round the back for an invasive strip-search when metal, drugs and x-ray scans all came back...strange.

Harley Quinn didn't seem to mind, chewing a wad of gum and grinning broadly she skipped into the room "Checkin' out the goods, babe?" Already wiggling her tight spandex shorts down, surprising the security woman with a hint of purple plastic, "Eh, you're cute."

The guard gaped in astonishment at the size of the plug snugly wedged between the pale half-moons of flesh and above a dyed purple fuzzy mound, even more so when she, gloved up, pulled it free with a sickeningly wet shlrrrruck. What truly struck her speechless though was the yellow spandex clad human hand that oozed down from Harley's guts into the cavity left behind and plopped lewdly out into the open, dripping thick, clear slime. She thought she even saw one finger twitch weakly.

She was too shocked to be horrified, or concerned. And much, much too stunned to notice Harley's subtle movements towards her baseball bat.
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Baseball bat slung over her shoulder Harley strolled through the gates into the expansive sprawl of ComiCon. A few hours ago she'd 'fought' the lone Batgirl after bumping into each other on the train, her outfit was almost as realistic as Harley's, though clearly not as dedicated, since she was completely unprepared when her mock fighting-poses brought on actual violence. She hadn't felt the caped crusadette move since joining the lengthy line to get into the building, so it was an added bonus running into the 'good guys' again in the form of a security guard. A solid whack with her bat and she'd been able to retrieve the keys and 'imprison' the unfortunate victim as well. Even better that meant shoving Batgirl much, much deeper.

Pausing, hand on hip, bat over shoulder and a shiny new pair of cuffs hanging from her belt, the metal bumping her back thigh with every step, she felt fingers desperately trying to grip the slick tip of the buttplug up her ass and gave a clench, tugging them deeper with a satisfying inner pop of shifting sphincters. Oh yes, this year was going to be a wonderful ComiCon.



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Trying to get back into story-writing and creating little backstories for pictures here and there seems like a good plan.

An unfortunate guard discovers a missing Batgirl cosplayer when she comes up against an...unnervingly realistic and predatory Harley Quinn cosplayer

I love hammerspace vore, incidentally, one day I'll do a cutaway that works with that concept.

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