Fabulous Ivy

Commissioned by: anonymous

Written by: Danni Lynn

Date: October 18th, 2023

Word Count: 3,000 words

Synopsis: Brilliant biochemist, Frankie Songmin, wants to put his new experiments to the test. With a love for DC Comic's Poison Ivy, he dresses in his drag alter ego, Fabulous Ivy, to rob a bank and--hopefully--make the local headlines.

CW: Hypnosis, crime.

NSFW CONTENT: Due to the NSFW nature of this piece, the entire, uncensored story can be found on my Wix website for 18+ readers only.

Read the full story HERE

Or continue reading the censored version below…

Going to the bank at 10 AM in the morning might be a drag if only regular people shuffled to and fro depositing checks, and bothering bank tellers all while dressed in drab clothes that were hardly fit for leaving the comforts of home. But one morning, at a Sacramento branch of Sixth-fourth Bank, a young man dressed in drag pushed his way through the front doors, relishing the average moment around him that floated, as if drifting between two spaces in time: the moment before he arrived and the moment everyone in the room noticed him in all his glamour.

Frankie Songmin was a man of many talents. He was a brilliant biochemist, someone who went by unnoticed with his (as he thought) plain dark eyes and hair. But when he was Fabulous Ivy, he was a force to be reckoned with. Dressed to look like DC Comic’s Poison Ivy, Fabulous Ivy had lusciously long strawberry blonde hair with a mesmerizing red tint at the tips. He wore a green leather body suit with triangular shoulder pads, a corset, and short bottoms that caressed his curves. Elbow-length gloves covered his arms and hands and his bare tan legs ended in knee-high, stiletto boots. The wide pointed shoulder pads added to the litheness of his height and accentuated his thin corseted waist in dramatic contrast. Overall, the entire outfit was a sight to feast on.

On his belt, he carried three secret items that he had created in his lab. He caressed each one, making sure everything was ready and in place. His special lipstick, compact, and a small vial were all secured. Fabulous Ivy smiled, his heart fluttering in anticipation. Today was going to be the day he made a name for himself. He could see the headlines now:

Vivacious Femme Fatale—A Bedazzling Bank Heist—Still at Large!

Today he was going to become known by everyone in Sacramento. He would claim the fame, make the money he had always dreamed of, and would roll in the joy of being a wanted enemy of the law. His beauty was sure to captivate all and the public itself would be trapped in wonder. They would ponder his mysterious appearances: How could someone so beautiful be so evil?

The bank was a simple suburban one. A small building with only a lobby and a back area for private offices and the vault were marked off with an “employees only” sign on the door. A dark carpet covered the floor, and a few fake ferns decorated the empty spaces between stanchions marking out the cues for each counter.

A sleepy security guard was sitting in a chair by the front window reading a paper, and only two clerks were at their desks. A few customers were scattered about, in line, waiting in the lobby, or sitting in armchairs by the windows.

It took only a moment after entering for Fabulous Ivy to garner a few glances. The customers noticed first, some audibly gasped, but after the first wave of shock passed through the room, everyone’s eyes were on him.  

The security guard noticed last, looking up from his newspaper with raised eyebrows. He was a large man with dark curly hair, a brown complexion, large shoulders, and a chest that strained against the confines of his buttoned-up uniform. He stood up and set the newspaper down and nodded to Fabulous Ivy.

“Good morning, miss,” the security guard said. Fabulous Ivy smiled, flashing his white teeth. He strutted straight over to the guard and pricked his chest with one manicured nail.

“‘Miss?’ I think you are a little off your mark, but if you’d like, I answer to ‘Queen,’” Fabulous Ivy said. He tilted his head back to look up at the tall man. A plastic name tag on his chest read, “Cameron O’Donnel.”

“Oh, sorry,” Cameron said. “Well, if you need anything, just let me or one of the tellers know. We would be happy to help.” Cameron turned to pick up his paper when Fabulous Ivy reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.

“I think you can help me, in more ways than one,” he whispered. Cameron turned back around with his eyes wide, almost puppy-like in the way a dog looks confused when their favorite toy is replaced with some unknown object. He looked soft, manipulatable; all despite his muscular frame.

“Excuse me?”

… Read the entire story over on Wix!

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