Tracey took one look at me and sat down in a guest chair. "Did you call Eve last night? Did she call you?" I shook my head in answer to both questions..."Boss, this is not a good impasse. It worries me." I'm sorry it worries you. Unfortunately, it confirms what I have feared from the beginning. It's just going to be too hard to combine our lives. I won't bother her. She has a lot of demands upon her time. Now, I have one more and it's at her behest."I'll leave a little early this afternoon and go. This was almost like having an enema, but a very painfulenema. The water was really hurting my hole. I had tried holding my pain inside but it had gotten so bad I started cry out. ‘What the fuck are you yelping about?’Dickie growled. ‘It’s anus is burning really bad, Master Dickie, Sir.’ I gasped out.’And It’s bowels are full and beginning to cramp, Sir.’ ‘Too fucking bad. It is a filthy fucking pig that shat all over itself and now is being cleaned.It will keep It’s fucking mouth shout and. I went and drank a bit more, cleaned my weapons and rested in the shade after firing the rifle twice and finding it pulled slightly right. I polished some balls until I was sure of their roundness.At twelve or so someone rang a big bell and about a score of men, in a wide variety of uniforms, appeared and displayed their numbers. We crowded around the adjutant who had evidently sponsored this thing, and he told us the rules: rifle shooting at one hundred yards, then knife, tomahawk or ax. The bulge between her legs isn’t very visible in the jeans that she wears, but in costume it’s another matter. Ivy had been the one to design the plant spores that caused Barbara to grow a penis, but it had been Harley’s idea. Barbara is shocked that Ivy enabled it; she might’ve been drunk.The consequences have been serious. Barbara and over a thousand other Gotham women were affected by that attack. Bruce still hasn’t figured out a way to get rid of the penises without surgery, and Ivy’s.