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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
- 7
- 8
- 9
Author's Note: After considering the advice of my lovely reviewer Harley, I have re-written this scene just a bit. I'm not sure if it's better this way, but I'd love some feedback! Thanks again to Harley and all my reviewers!

Chapter 8

I have stepped through the looking glass.

It had been a week, and nothing quite felt real to her yet. Everything was touched with this air of surrealism. She felt like she was stuck in a Dali painting, where everything was liquid and melting at the edges.Maybe I am dreaming. Maybe I’m still lying passed out on the pavement with a concussion and none of this is real. Or maybe I’m dead and this is hell. Yes, that must be it. I finally died and I went to hell just like Mamma said I would. The Joker really is Satan, and he is here to make me pay for my sins..

But would hell be this boring? She hadn’t even seen him since the night she accepted his deal. She had given him her answer and he had walked out of the door with an evil grin on his face. “See ya later alligator…maybe.”

She had stayed inside the apartment. There had been food, clothes, everything she might need here. There was money in the bedroom drawer, more than she could she spend in a month. She wandered through the apartment unable to shake the feeling that if she opened the front door, there would be nothing. Just a black abyss waiting to swallow her alive.I’m going mad. His madness is infectious and I’ve caught it.

She lied in her bed at night reliving their conversation. She dreamed dark dreams that were full of him, and woke up to find the bed sheets soaked in her sweat and a disturbing slickness between her thighs.

It was on day 8 of her new life that she turned on the television and saw his disturbing face plastered across the screen. She was so focused on his picture that she only heard the barest bits of the story. Blah, blah, something blown up. Yada, yada, where’s Batman, etc etc.

How many had he killed today? What kind of man had she sold herself to? She wondered how low her soul had fallen and if she’d ever, ever be able to redeem herself.

She flipped off the television and headed to the bathroom. A warm shower was the only friend she knew, and it was to this small comfort that she turned. She scrubbed her skin until it felt raw and red, enjoying the scalding heat as it drowned out all the voices in her head.

When she felt fresh and clean again, and a little more clear-headed, she stepped out into the spacious bathroom and began drying herself with a towel. She wrapped a silk robe around her body and walked into the bedroom.

As she stepped into the room, she never saw the shadow behind the door. With one graceful, silent step he moved forward. She felt something hard come down upon her head and dropped to her knees with a gasp. He stepped around in front of her, waving his gun lazily with one hand. “Honey…I’m home,” he smiled wickedly.

She looked up at him as her vision finally cleared. She shivered with fear as he leaned forward and said, “What’s the matter, doll? You don’t look happy to see me!” He backhanded her across the face and she reeled backward, tasting blood in her mouth.

He stepped back and just looked down at her prone form with an appraising glance. “Do you know why I did that?” She sobbed and shook her head, as she tried to climb back to her knees. “Because I can. Because I own you, Because you are mine. I own you like I own this city now. I do what I want, take what I want, and no one dares to stop me. They just step back and let me have my fun. The police, the mob…none of them dares to cross me. Do you know how I keep that control?”

He crouched down and turned her face to his. “I do it through fear.” He rubbed the barrel of his gun against her face, “You see, fear is so much more powerful than respect. That’s what the so-called ‘good guys’ don’t understand, and that’s why they always lose in the long run. Respect is man made. It isn’t natural. It’s weak and fallible. But every creature feels fear. It’s the strongest of human emotions.” He traced the gun barrel down her ear and pressed it against her temple. “Are you scared right now?”

“Yes,” she breathed.

“Are you aroused?” She turned her face sharply away.

He pushed the barrel of the gun into her skin and cocked the hammer.

She whimpered and closed her eyes. “Please,” she moaned.

“Please what? Please don’t pull the trigger and splatter your pretty little brains all over the carpet? Or please bend you over the bed and give you the fucking you’ve been dreaming of all week long? You know what I think? Hmm?” He tongue darted across his lips and his eyes were filled with manic joy. “I think you’d let me kill you. Because you see, I don’t think it’s death you fear. As long as I fucked you first, and told you that you were beautiful and special and that you meant something, you’d gladly let me shoot you afterwards. Your biggest fear right now is that I’ll stand up, walk out the door, and never return.

“But you see, I’m not going to do that. I still have far too many naughty things I want to do with you.” With that he stood up looked down at her.

"Drop that robe, and get on your hands and knees. I want a good, long look at my pretty new toy.” She climbed onto her hands and knees, her blond hair falling in front of her face. “Stay here, and don’t move a muscle.” She watched him walk out of the bedroom and heard him rummaging about in the other room.

When he returned, he had removed his coat, gloves and vest. In his hand, he held...a broom? She stifled a laugh. What the hell is he going to do with a damned broom? He noticed the grin that twitched at the corners of her mouth.

"You don't look like you're taking me very...seriously." With one swift move, he brought the wooden broom handle down over his knee, splintering it in half. He dropped the bottom half. His eyes flitted appraisingly from the smooth rounded end to the splintered, jagged one, and gave it a decided nod.

He stood in front of her, placed the fractured wood under her chin, and raised her head. She could feel the tiny splinters pushing into her skin. He slowly ran the sharp edges up and down her cheek.

“You have a beautiful face, Desiree. And it’s even more beautiful when you’re crying like you are now. But you’ve lived hard, and it shows. I expect you to take better care of yourself if you’re going to be my personal whore.”

He walked around to the side of her. “Hmm…” He eyed her luscious breasts as they swung beneath her. He poked the handle sharply against the side of one and she let out a yelp. “Hehe…Sensitive, eh? These are beautiful too. I’m going to have so much fun doing horrible things to them.” Desiree’s heart was racing, but the shame of him inspecting her in this manner was almost too much to bare.

He traced the tip of the wood down her spine. “You have a gorgeous skin tone…I can’t wait to see what it will look like when it’s red and black and blue and covered in my marks. It will be like creating a work of art on living flesh.”

As he walked behind her, he brought the handle down across her ass, leaving a ragged cut down one cheek.. She cried out again. “You’re scrawny though. You need some more meat on these bones. You’re far too fragile now, and I need you to stand up to….hard treatment.” He paused. “Spread your legs.”

Her tears were streaming down her face as she complied. “More!” He pressed the splintered wood against her thigh.

He kneeled down, sat the handle beside him, and ran his hand over the thin red scratch across her flesh. She moaned at the touch of his hands. “Ah, yes, you bleed so easily.” He reached between her legs and felt the moisture there. “See? I was right about you enjoying this humiliation. By the way, I’m always right, you know.” He spread her ass cheeks apart and pressed his thumb against her anus. “I‘m going to enjoy this too…you know, blood makes a wonderful lubricant. Or maybe I‘ll just take you dry and listen to you scream and beg me to stop.” She moaned again, and her mind was filled with the image of him plunging deep inside her. She could feel her juices begin to trickle down her inner thigh.

He lowered his hands to spread her pussy lips apart. “And your pussy is the prettiest shade of pink…” He picked up the piece of wood and this time drug the smooth end gently across her opening. She moaned and pushed backward, but he snatched it away. “Uh-uh-uh…Not yet.” He gave her a swift, loud smack on her ass.

“Do you want it?”

“Yes, please..” She could never remember desiring anything so much. Sex was nothing new to her. A thousand nights with a thousand different strangers and it had never been anything but the most mundane of acts. With the Joker, it was different. Every inch of her body was screaming for him.

He pressed the handle against her slit but didn’t move it. “You know, you really are a whore. Not just because you do it for a living, but because that’s who you are. Your entire life, your entire self esteem is all caught up in sex. If a man doesn’t fuck you, you wonder what’s wrong. And if he does fuck you, you hate him. Well guess what? You’re just going to have to hate me, because I don’t care as long as I get what I want.” He rammed the slim handle deep into her pussy grinding it hard against her cervix. She screamed in pain, but he only jabbed it harder into her.

“Stop!" she cried out. “Please, it hurts.” He rammed it in her once again, bring a new cry of pain to her lips.

“I know! Isn’t it great? And don’t pretend you don’t like it.” He laughed as he gave yet another forceful thrust inside her.

“No, no, please! This isn’t what I want,” she sobbed.

He paused. “Ok. Fine.” He removed the handle, casting it aside. Standing up, he walked towards the door.

“Where are you going?” her heart twitched at the sight of him walking away.

“I am…leaving, because you aren’t being any fun right now. I’ll be back when you’ve had time to think through things and decide if you really do want to be a good girl and let me have my way. If you can’t fulfill my needs, then I have no use for you.”

He strode through the door as Desiree yelled out to him. “Please, no don’t go…Please, I’ll be good, I’ll let you do whatever you want!”

She climbed to her feet and ran after him, but he was already gone.
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- 9
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The Joker's Concubine