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Because Its What You Wanted	By : JaneKrahe Category: DC Verse Comics > Batman Views: 3386 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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
- 1-Because It's What You Wanted
- 1
Barbara Gordon was exhausted. She’d spent the past three months helping the Thirteenth Precinct hunt a deranged pedophile/serial killer calling himself the Mad Hatter. He was proving difficult to catch; one wouldn’t think a child rapist would be so smart. But, then, Barbara had lost her expectations of what a criminal was a long time ago.

Her house was quiet, and dark, when she went home. It was about midnight; her father had nearly pushed her out the door, saying he’d arrest her and put her in county if she didn’t get some sleep.

Barbara stretched, and threw her purse, keys, and coat on the couch. She headed into the bedroom, pulling her shirt off over her head. She threw it on the floor, not worrying about keeping the place clean. She was too tired for that. She flopped onto her stomach on the bed, sighing with relief.

She closed her eyes, and began to drift off.

Suddenly, a hand wrapped itself in her hair and pulled. Hard. Barbara cried out in shock and pain. A knee was dug into her back, and her head was wrenched backwards. She caught a whiff of vanilla and sugar, and heard a voice growl in her ear, “You’re late.”

Barbara gritted her teeth against the pain, but was nevertheless smiling. “Am I?” she whispered. The hand in her hair pulled harder, then shoved her face back down to the mattress. Barbara felt a rough hand, it’s nails ragged, run slowly down her back, making her shiver. She tried to sit up, but a strong arm across her shoulder blades forced her back down.

“No, no, no, little girl,” Joker said, his voice low. “I’m not very happy with you at the moment.”

Okay, *that* confused her. “Why not?” she asked, her voice muffled by the picture.

Joker pushed harder on her back, making it harder to breathe. “I was walking around today, thinking I might go by the station, see how you were - not go up to you, just watch. And imagine my surprise when I see you flirting with some two-bit rookie cop with tacky hair and a plastic smile.”

“Flirting? I wasn’t flirting,” Barbara replied with false coyness. It was all part of the game. Joker was an extremely jealous, possessive man. She’d known he was watching that morning; she could feel it. So, she’d flirted with that eager rookie, knowing he would show up that night, just to reinforce his claim on her. She hadn’t seen him in awhile, and missed him.

“Well, doll face, I have a surprise for you tonight,” he continued. He grabbed her and flipped her over, so she was laying on her back on the bed. He loomed over her, grinning. His face was painted. He only did that if the night would be violent. That was exactly what Barbara had been hoping for. She needed a release after all the stress at work.

He stood up, and produced four silk ropes from somewhere inside his coat. He tossed them on the bed, then barked, “Strip. Now.”

Barbara sat up, gingerly, muscles already aching slightly. She removed what was left of her clothes. The moment she was finished, he grabbed her by the arm and shoved her back on the bed. The, he tied her hands and feet to the posts, spread-eagle. She struggled a bit against the ropes, but they were painfully tight.

Joker removed his coat and rolled up his sleeves. He picked up an old, leather medical bag, and set it on the bed next to her. He began removing and examining different vicious-looking instruments, saying, “You seem to be forgetting who you belong to, sugar. I’m going to fix that.” He took out a bone saw - looked at it, set it aside. “I’m going to make sure that everyone can see that you are mine, and mine alone.” Finally, he seemed to find the instrument he wanted. It was a small scalpel, brand-new, it’s tip razor-fine. He took a silver lighter out of his pocket. Joker sat on the bed and leaned over her upper body.

Barbara squirmed a bit. She was nervous, but so excited it didn’t matter. She loved it when he said she belonged to him.

He lit the lighter, then held the scalpel to it, heating the blade. “In Persia,” the Joker said, “a noble, an amir, say, or a prince, would brand the women of his harem, so that he alone could touch them. If another man tried, he would be killed on the spot.” He closed the lighter and inspected the blade.

Joker looked Barbara in the eyes. Now was her choice. If she shook her head, if she told him “no”, this game would stop here. He would never hurt her without permission. He wasn’t a monster.

Barbara gave the slightest of smiles, and the smallest of nods. Yes, she wanted this, wanted to be branded, to be his, for always and ever.

Joker leaned over her, to her left breast. She took a few deep breaths, readying herself. The knife bit into her skin, and Barbara bit back a scream. It was red-hot, cauterizing the wound, slipping through her skin like butter. She threw her head back and moaned, tears springing to her eyes. She whimpered, and a hand placed itself on her forehead, searing with it’s own heat. She opened her eyes, and saw Joker watching her. She managed a smile before the next cut, which made her throw her head back in agony - and arousal. She let him do this, let him mark her as his own, and despite the agony, she loved every moment of it.

And too soon, it was over.

Joker pulled back, and she felt the loss of his unnatural heat more than she felt the stopping of the blade. She opened her eyes. He lay on the bed next to her, staring at her. He leaned forward and kissed her. She reciprocated, struggling against her bonds. He pulled away, then said, “Look at it.”

She did, lifting her head as far as it would go. It was a rectangle, the exact size and shape of a playing card, with a small “J” carved in the upper-left-hand and the lower-right-hand corners. Blood flowed sluggishly from it, having been mostly burned by the heat from the blade. It hurt, and it was beautiful. Barbara laughed. She looked back at him, and he seemed nervous, as though waiting for approval. “It’s lovely,” she told him.

He reached over and began to untie her bonds. “No,” she whispered. He looked at her in surprise. “Leave them on,” Barbara said, in a voice quite unlike her own. “I don’t want to be able to move.”

Joker bit his lip, and stood up. He removed his clothes, slowly, and she watched with growing arousal, her thighs warming, aching for him.

He got down on the bed, at her legs. He slid a hand between her thighs, up until he hit the center of her, and she gasped. He looked up at her, a smile playing on his scarred lips. His rough fingers slid suddenly inside her and her back arched. His callused fingertips found that spot inside her, that spot that was both pleasure and pain, and they circled it, too hard to ignore, too light to satisfy. She felt warmth build within her, but his pace was frustratingly slow. She ground her hips down, and he obliged, speeding up, his fingers circling that spot, over and over, and the heat in her built and built, until finally it spilled over and she came, shuddering with the force of it.

Joker sat up, and crawled over her, his muscles moving under his skin. He leaned down and kissed her, biting her lip, drawing blood. He did it so often that she now had a teeth-shaped scar below her lower lip, and it drew many stares from her father and Harvey. Her blood flowed into his mouth, and he deepened the kiss. He rested his weight on her, and she could feel his arousal, hard, hot, and insistent, against her hip.

He grabbed her by the hair and tilted her head back. His teeth went to her neck, right over her jugular. He was like predator the way he sensed her pulse, the way it seemed to excite him. He sucked hard, and she cried out in pain.

Joker pulled back and smiled. “I love hearing you scream,” he said, his voice low and gravelly.

Barbara licked her lip, tasting a hint of blood. “Then make me scream,” she replied.

He grabbed her by the hair again. He yanked it, craning her head back so far her neck popped. “What’s my name?” he growled.

“Eric,” Barbara breathed.

Without warning, he thrust inside her, his hand gripping her ass, the other still in her hair. He lifted her hips and thrust, hitting that same spot. It still sensitive, and hurt, like a raw, not-quite-healed wound.

His hips found a rhythm that was slow, exacting, the tip of him sliding over that spot, and every time he hit it, she felt lights pop behind her eyes. He was panting, and she loved hearing his loss of control. He didn’t like showing weakness, but she was his only one, and he only dropped his guard for her.

He struck that spot hard, and she cried out. He lost the rhythm and sped up, pounding her into the mattress. The familiar heat began filling her. She struggled against her bonds, the ropes cutting into her wrists, making her bleed. She felt no pain, it only served to excite her more.

The heat reached a fever pitch, and she could feel it teetering on the edge. She shifted her hips up, and he struck at such a hard angle that she came screaming. He came immediately after, crying out, his back arched.

Joker collapsed onto Barbara’s stomach, his arm around her waist. He was panting heavily, and seemed to have lost most of his motor functions. But that was fine with her. He was a quite man, and she loved making him scream during sex, loved knowing he did it only for her.

Barbara sighed, her head falling back on the pillow. She knew she would have some explaining to do at work tomorrow, as her newest wound would be incredibly visible. But she didn’t care. Her eyes were drifting closed when she heard his voice.

“Why did you let me do that to you?” he asked, and it was the youngest she ever heard his voice sound.

Without looking at him, she replied, “Because it’s what you wanted.”

His grip on her waist tightened slightly, and she could have sworn she felt moisture where his face rested. She thought maybe he was crying.

She let her eyes close. She was hovering on the edge of sleep when she heard his voice, so quite she knew he didn’t intend for her to hear, “I love you, Barbara.”

Barbara smiled, and drifted to sleep.

~Thanks for the support, everbody! If you like this one, I will follow with a complete sequel to Ashes, Ashes! Please review!~
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Because Its What You Wanted