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The Joker's Concubine	By : Jokersconcubine Category: DC Verse Comics > Batman Views: 17805 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own the Batman series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 9
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- 11
Author's note: Some re-writes were done in chapter 8 due to the feedback I received. Please read the new version and let me know if you like it better!

He unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it onto the floor. Never taking his eyes off hers, he unbuckled his leather belt and tossed it beside the knife on the bed. He stepped quickly out of his pants, and for the first time she saw his lean, sinewy body. The paleness of his skin stood out in stark contrast to the bright paint of his face.

He walked over, leaned across the bed and grabbed the knife again. “Now, what we are going to have now, is called 'atonement' for you…and 'a hell of a fun Saturday night' for me.” He gave a low cackle filled with sinful delight.

He held the knife up to the light. “You know, this is my very favorite knife. Ain’t it pretty? Yes, yes it is.” He gave it a look of deep appreciation. "Sometimes I spend hours just sitting and sharpening it, the way some people sit and pet a small dog or a cat." He mused to himself for a moment, and then looked sharply at Desiree.

“On your hands and knees. At the edge of the bed. Quickly,” he sang out. “I’m a busy man. You know.” He gestured with the knife as he spoke. “I have heists to plot, people to rob, people to kill, Batman to play with, etc, etc. You know, if just never stops, being an agent of chaos. Very, very busy job. Lots of nights and weekends, but you know the benefits, the benefits are…,” he took a long look at Desi’s nude body , “…spectacular!” He chortled with unabashed glee, his voice filling the shadows of the room.

She dutifully crawled to her hands and knees and scooted closer to the edge of the bed. He leaned down towards her head and brought the shiny knife within an inch of her face. “Kiss my blade.” He brought it against her lips, and she obediently pressed her lips against it for a few seconds. “Good girl,“ he purred, and quickly yanked it away. Desiree gasped, and tasted blood as the razor-keen blade nicked her bottom lip.

“Oh my, did I do that? I’m so sorry.” His mocking eyes bore down into hers and she saw his cock begin to harden between his legs. “Let me get that for you…” He licked the droplet of blood with a quick movement of his tongue and pressed his lips hard against hers. She squirmed at the pain from the fresh cut, and then cried out against his mouth as he sharply nipped her lip between his teeth. “Hmm, hmmm, hmm…” he murmured. “I like that…I like it a lot.”

“I’m going to set this,” he held the knife up to her eyes again, “right here.” He placed it on the bed an inch or two from her. “If you start thinking of misbehaving, just remember…I can grab that in half a second flat and slit your throat so fast you won’t see it coming.” Her eyes grew large and fearful, but her heart was fluttering in her chest and a warmth was spreading between her legs.

“Here,” he grabbed his shirt from the table and threw it to her.

“What-?”

He gave her a most wicked glare. “You’re going to need something to bite down on.” She gulped and turned her tremulous eyes from him. “I can’t have you screaming and the neighbors calling the cops. I hear I’m a wanted man. ” He moved towards her feet and gave her a sharp slap on the ass. He lurched forward and crudely spread her legs. “Feels like I’m wanted by somebody at least.” He pulled his hand back and sniffed his fingers. Quickly, he gave them a lick. “Yum, yum.”

He grabbed the leather belt, bent it double, and cracked it loudly against his own leg. “Yow!“ he yelped. “That hurts!” His face was filled with a wide-eyed mock innocence. He took a step forward and gently tickled her back with the edge of the belt. His other hand was rubbing her ass, his finger tips just barely brushing the skin. “Mmm…this is going to look so pretty tomorrow when it’s all black and blue." He pulled his arm back slowly and paused for a long second as though admiring the offering of unblemished flesh before him. She heard the swoosh as the belt swung through the air. Desiree braced for the coming blow, her body rigid with fear and desire.

The Joker swung wide at the last moment with another ear-splitting cackle. “Hehe…Na, I wasn’t going to do it.” She let out a deep breath as her body relaxed. “Yet.” She screamed out, as the belt connected solidly against her flesh. He had swung again so quickly she hadn’t had time to react. The force pushed her forward onto her face, as he rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Tsk, tsk…the shirt, Desi. Why do I have to do everything myself, hmm?” He snatched his shirt from the bed, and shoved it brutally into her mouth. She began to choke, as he ripped her head backwards by her long hair.. “Don’t you even think about puking on that shirt,” he growled. He shoved her violently forward and reared his arm back for another stroke.

This one came down with all his brute strength against her tender flesh. “Mmm, mmm, mmm, that is going to leave one hell of a bruise.” He slammed the leather belt against her ass several times in quick succession, hitting first one cheek and then another as she sobbed into her impromptu gag. He paused, leaned forward and grasped her neck viciously. His finger nails dug deep into her flesh. “Flat on your stomach, whore.” She immediately bowed to the pressure and prostrated herself onto the bed.

He slapped the back of her thigh. “Legs open!” He wrapped the buckle-end of the belt around his hand and then cracked the tail of it sharply against the back of her upper thighs. Desiree burst into violent, choking sobs.

“Sssh, ssh ssh! What’s the matter, doll, aren’t you having fun?” She whimpered loudly. “I’m having fun! I’m having a blast!” Another loud crack, this time across the flat of her back. “And you know what I think? Hm, hm? I think you are having a good time.” He skimmed his free hand up between her thighs, brushing painfully against the forming welts. “ He coated his hand with the soaking wetness he found there and then yanked her face up again. The metallic smell of her own juices filled her nostrils as he rubbed his hand all over her tear-stained cheeks.

He released her and swung the belt back again. With every crack of the leather, every scream of agony, she remembered the years of shame and guilt. The hot shame of her mother calling her a whore, telling her she’d never be anything because she was just born bad. Her father’s silent gaze as he watched the proceedings, knowing that it was his fault, all his fault but she was paying the price. He watched her go. She saw flash before her eyes a decade of self-induced torture, night bleeding into night as she walked the dangerous city streets seeking out the low and desperate. All the hours spent in seedy hotel rooms and rust bucket cars. All the miles walked in high heels with some stranger’s cum dripping between her legs. Her tears were streaming down her face as the blows rained on her back, on her quivering buttocks, and across the tender meaty flesh of her thighs. She was lost in the pain, feeling waves of overpowering sensation rolling over her battered body. Her ragged breaths were full of her own scent and she could feel her entire body pulsing with pain and lust and anguish.

She gave one last muffled howl as he aimed an especially vicious blow right across her open pussy. Her whole frame collapsed in on itself as she was overcome with violent, bone shaking sobs. Her body was trembling as she ripped the shirt from her mouth, sucking in huge gulps of air that didn’t seem to reach her lungs. She buried her face into her hands and she bawled. She cried for all the times she wanted to when her father opened her bedroom door, for all the things her mother should have done and didn’t, cried for every moment when she lay beneath some thrusting stranger and prayed for God to just let her die, please, to just give her the strength to die.

As the convulsions rattled her body, she sensed him crawling into the bed beside her. He stretched his long, smooth body along side hers, and she breathed one good, deep breath. “I can’t-I can’t stop-” she gasped.

“Shhh, shh…” he whispered in her ears, no longer mocking her. She felt the length of his form against her, his engorged member pushing into her side. Her skin was on fire from the pain as he drew his hands every so softly over the raw, raised welts that covered her from shoulders to knees. Every touch was a symphony of agony that she could feel herself falling into, being encompassed by.

Slowly, as his hands played over her, the shakes lessened, her breathing deepened, and she felt herself coming back to reality. Little by little, her shuddering finally subsided and she turned her face to meet his.

She had wondered once, that first night, what his eyes would look like filled with passion. Now she knew…Dark, intense and utterly terrifying. He found her suffering to be exquisite. He was reveling in it, feeding off of it like a strange, suckling, vampiric creature.

He brusquely grabbed her, flipped her over onto her back and straddled her. Her back screamed as the rough bedspread abraded her abused flesh.

He leered down at her like a comic book villain as he rubbed his hard cock against the sopping slickness between her legs. His flesh on hers, his pressing against her most sensitive of areas, sent tremors of a different sort through her. He leaned down and viciously bit at one painfully erect nipple, seeming to savor her subsequent squeal of protest. He whispered darkly into her ear, “How bad do you want me?” His own breathing had become shallow as he continued to grind his aching hardness against her. She could feel long-forgotten feelings of lust returning to her, pleasures she had long ago ceased to allow herself.

“More than anything," she gasped. “More than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.” With a quickness that denoted much practice, he snapped up the knife and ripped a long strip of cloth from the bed cover, just inches from where her head lay. He grabbed both her fragile wrists in his one large hand and wrenched them above her head. In a matter of seconds, he had deftly tied them to the vertical bars of the headboard. They were tightened so that the narrow fabric bit deep into her flesh. He looked back to admire his handiwork, and then pushed his throbbing head against the tight, wet opening of her pussy.

“Would you do anything for me? Anything at all? Any horrible, disgusting thing I asked of you?” His voice had become ragged with his own need.

“Anything, anything, please…” she moaned against him.

“He reached down and rubbed himself directly against her swollen clit. “Even if I…hurt you? Even if I do terrible, humiliating, degrading things to you?”

“Yes, yes, just please, please don’t tease me anymore.” She could feel an orgasm building deep within herself, the first she’d felt in years and she was terrified in this moment of losing it.

“Mmmm…I will give you fucking if that's what you truly want,” he breathed. “But at a price. I want-” he groaned as he pushed against her, “ I want to…mark you as my own. Mark you so that anyone who sees you will always know that you were mine, you were the Joker’s whore and concubine and you catered to his every sickening lust and need.”

“I’m yours, all yours, any way you want me, I promise.”

“Hmm…," he slowed his strokes, backing her slowly down from the climax that had she had been verging on.” He calmed himself, slowed his breathing, and reached slowly for the finely honed knife that still lay inches from her beautiful face.

Her eyes widened in paralyzing fear, as he settled his weight forward, moving to straddle her heaving chest. “Open that lovely mouth, my sweet slut.” He pried his fingers into her jaw, and she opened wide. Her heart was thudding, like a bird beating desperately against the walls of its cage. She felt the blade rest a hair’s breadth from the tender flesh at the corners of his mouth. His face was filled with a maniacal pleasure as she willed her body to be absolutely still. She could feel a wet spot slowly growing beneath her hips as he said, “Oh yes, yes, you would look so ravishing with a big beautiful red, smile stretching from one end of your face to other. They would know it was my work, yes, oh yes, they would…but…” Here he paused. “But they wouldn’t know why. They wouldn’t know the extent of your service to me, would they?" She gave the smallest of whimpers, terrified of twitching the slightest muscle.

“No, no, we must make the punishment fit the crime. I think, ah yes, the perfect idea.” He slowly removed the knife from her mouth, turning the flat of the blade to press against her chin. “I think something…a little lower is in order,” he laughed. He drug the knife down her throat, and then ever so slowly between her breasts, and down her tight stomach. As he lowered the blade against her shaven pubic mound, she moaned and pulled against her bound wrists.

“Yes, yes, I think right here is a perfect spot. Don’t you, Desi? Hmm?”

“Anything you desire,” she answered in a unsteady voice.

She turned her face against the pillow as she felt the first keen slice of the blade through her sensitive skin. The knife sliced through flesh with an ease that shocked and horrified her. She heard the Joker give a low, passion filled moan as he moved the knife and made a second, sweeping cut downward. She fought to cling to consciousness when the new round of pain washed through her. The sting of her ripped flesh brought an acute misery to her weakened, and nearly broken body. She knew without looking what he had done.

He had carved a ragged letter J into the fragile skin above her pussy.

She could feel small rivulets of blood running down over her slit and mixing with the her other fluids. The pain was astonishing and yet she moaned, deep and throaty when he lowered his head to lap the mixture up. His tongue pressed insistently against her, probing her depths, and then sliding up and down the full length of her lips, stopping to lick and nibble at her sensitive inner core. She pulled violently against her bound hands, feeling herself once more on the brink of an earth-shattering climax. She heard his own gasping breath against her skin and looked down to see that he was furiously stroking his thick shaft as he feasted on her.

His own groaning grew louder as his tongue more frantically worked on her clit. He reached up with his left hand and suddenly raked his nails down the full length of her open, bleeding incisions. “Mine!” he growled as she openly screamed into her pillow. She felt his body shudder and shake as he spurted into his own hand. He never missed a beat with his tongue as he brought that hand forward and coarsely rubbed his hot cum directly into her wounds. The pain and pleasure consumed her, one blending into the other so that that she could no longer tell the difference as she screamed, “Yours!” The intense feelings ripped through her, just as his blade had cut through her flesh.

She quivered and shook for a moment, willing herself to catch her breath as he rolled off of her. His face was a mess, covered in her cum and blood. His make up was smeared beyond recognition, most of it transferred to the skin between her thighs. He rolled over and propped himself on one elbow, his own chest still heaving a bit.

“I still want you to have my smile.” She looked at him, unable to speak for fear of her heart bursting. He lowered his hand, raked his index finger through her bloody mound, and then grinned devilishly at her as he slowly painted a red smile at the corners of her mouth. “There we go. That’s more like it.”
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The Joker's Concubine