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The Joker's Concubine
By : Jokersconcubine
Category: DC Verse Comics > Batman
Views: 17805 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1Disclaimer: 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
With a quick movement of the nearby knife, he released her wrists. She lay beside him, willing her pounding heart to still and her breathing to calm itself. The sharp pain of her incisions was slowly fading to a dull throbbing ache.
“Tell me what you’re feeling. I want to hear it.”
“I feel…alive. Renewed. Cleansed.”
He gave a low chuckle, as though something had greatly amused him. “Even after doing something so horrible as letting a man you barely know mark you as his own?”
“Yes. You were right…about making friends with your inner darkness. All the guilt I’ve felt, all the shame…I may have been a whore, and a slut, and maybe I really am broken. Maybe I am a sick, twisted person who enjoys pain and humiliation. But I don’t have to be a slave to that. I can own it, and make it my own and enjoy it.”
“What about your faith? All that faith in God and the Devil and evil.”
“I think…I’m losing that. And that scares me because it’s all I’ve ever had. Yet, now, a part of me feels that if I can lose it completely, I’ll truly be free.”
He gave her a nod and rolled over on his back staring at the ceiling for a long, quiet moment. “Well,” he said. “That’s that.” He leaned up and bounced off the bed, walking over to the pants he had throw aside earlier. He hummed a little to himself as he stepped into them. Desiree sat up in the bed. “You‘re leaving?”
“Hmm? Oh yah. I’m going now.”
“But-”
“But?”
“But I got promised some fucking and I’m more than ready for round 2.” She gave a coy smile.
He gave her a disinterested look that slightly wounded her. “I think I’ll pass.”
“But you promised, you promised if I let you….,” a note of slight hysteria crept into her shaking voice. He moved to her side of the bed and crouched down.
“I promised you would get fucking . And you will. But not tonight. Because I’m tired and I have other things to do tomorrow. So just be…a good girl. Clean yourself up, get some sleep. Oh, and, a, you might want to go buy a new bedspread.”
He grabbed his shirt, which was crumpled beyond belief and wet with her tears and saliva. He gave her a seriously menacing look. “I should beat you for this. Now I’ve gotta wear a wet shirt.”
She grinned playfully at him. “You can beat me for anything you want. Or for no reason at all.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe next time.”
He walked out the door.
She lie there after he left, still covered in cum and blood and sweat. She looked down towards her carved flesh and was overcome with this sense of...belonging. For once in her life, she belonged to someone. She had always felt there would never be anyone for her. She was afraid that the minute they saw who she really was, they’d run screaming the other direction, terrified of catching her own special brand of madness. But the Joker was already mad, already crazier than she’d ever be, and so he was able to trek the murky waters of her heart and soul fearlessly.
Psychos in love, she mused to herself. She remembered a book she had read when she was younger. It was about vampires and one of them had posed the question as to whether or not devils love each, if they walked arm in arm through hell saying, “You are my friend, how I love you.” It was sort of like that now for Desiree. I have finally found someone who is as fucked up as I am. There was a strange, frightening comfort in that.
You’re being ridiculous, she told herself. The Joker is a madman. He doesn’t love anyone, not even himself maybe. He does these things to me because he’s a sexual sadist and I’m desperate enough for a little affection that I will let him do anything he likes. The truth of that stung, but the time for illusions had passed. She couldn’t keep blaming everything on her past. The old shame, the old guilt nudged at the back of her brain, but she shoved it back down. For once in her life, she wanted to be good at something. She never been much good at anything…not good in school, not talented or creative. Hell, she really hadn’t even been a good prostitute. She’d ignored the advice of the more experienced girls and lived her life as though she wanted to die, and was just waiting for someone to come along and do the favors.
But not anymore. Those days were over, and she knew that surely there was a stronger woman inside her ready to come out. She buried her face against the sheets, still resplendent with his odor. She wrapped the thought of him around her like a security blanket. I will not allow my past or my insecurities to control me anymore. Never again. I have been dealt a new hand, and by God, I’m going to play it the best I can. A snippet from a poem she'd read somewhere popped into her mind: Today is my renaissance and my rebirth. Yes, she thought that fit just fine.
She could feel herself on the verge of sleep, and toyed with the idea of a shower, knowing that she was a filthy mess. She took a deep breath, smelling the scent of herself, of him, of the damp, ripped blanket stained with her blood. But for once in her life, she didn’t feel the need to scrub herself raw. She was clean enough as is.- You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
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