EricT
Don't you ever get...
Joker crawled up Bruce's hard body, pressing his bare chest up against the Bat's, more skin on skin. He rubbed his chest up against his captives, tracing his sides with his seared palms.
He pressed far into Bruce's personal space, so close Bruce could feel the breath coming from Jokers nose, and it made the millionaire uncomfortable.
Joker could feel Batman's dick beneath him. The masked man was already growing hard. It stabbed his own cock as he pressed against the vigilante, it made the mad man moan shamelessly into the nook of Batman's neck.
“Get. Away. From. Me.” Bruce was seething, though relieved that the criminal had stopped stripping him of his shorts.
“You're so hard.”
The proud super hero wanted to refuse the accusation, but he couldn't deny it now. He was steadily becoming more and more aroused. And every time that psychopath shifted Bruce was aware of how good it felt to have Jokers hot body rub up against his own.
The Clown Price of Crime watched his obsession think quietly, but then interrupted, “I want to see your face.”
Batman froze.
“I want to take it off,” he reached for the mask and Batman held his breath. Joker pulled away. “How about this, if you promise to enjoy yourself, I'll let you keep that ridiculous mask. Sounds good?”
Again, Bruce fell silent. What was he supposed to say? The very idea...it made his skin crawl. He couldn't have this psycho see his face.
Joker looked at his eyes, they were shifting back and forth wildly and glazed over with fear. He had never seen fear there before, the Clown Prince of Crime didn't like it. He leaned down, so his scarred mouth was hovering over the other mans lips. They were so close, once he began to talk he could feel his own lips faintly touch over Batman's. “I promise, you'll enjoy it.”
The Dark Knight shuddered like a sheet of paper in the wind and swallowed. He didn't have to
say anything, they both knew that Joker had won when Bruce's body went lax. What could he expect? He didn't know; he had an idea, though. It seemed as if his fears had been confirmed when Joker ran his hands down the other mans rib cage then slid off the bed.
He came back with a bottle of lubricant. Bruce averted his gaze back to the humming lights. He vaguely wondered why the criminal would even bother with lube if he was just going to rape him. The fear multiplied and divided within the bound man like cells at work.
Meanwhile Joker had stripped himself of his shoes and trousers. He stood, now, in his silky green boxers showing off his slim form with his hips slightly sticking out in a odd pose.
Bruce noticed the Clown Prince of Crime had a small waste and long legs, that of almost a feminine nature. But he wasn't a woman, that was evident by the green tent between his legs. The clown stalked closer like a cat and crawled up Batman's strapped body.
“I'm going to take care of you.” He reassured and pawed at the vigilantes chest, drawing lines of irritated skin behind his nails. The criminal sat between the Bat's spread legs and bowed his green head as if in prayer to kiss Bruce's jutting hip bone, laving it with moist lips.
Bruce squirmed, the sensation climbed up his body and down his loins. It all only intensified when Joker began to nip at the skin and graze a canine against the bone. Bruce groaned again and balled his hands into tight fists. He liked teeth.
He closed his eyes, he didn't want to watch. He didn't want to see his body succumb to this mad mans advances. Bruce could feel the swelling growth between his legs and shifted, wanting to relieve that tension.
Joker seemed to be able to feel the sexual frustration rolling of off Batman, he wanted to help him with that. The clown pulled his hand away from the Bats stomach and slid into Bruce's shorts.
The millionaire gasped and popped his eyes open when he felt a confident hand reach in and
wrap around his length. Another guttural sound of pleasure passed his lips and it only encouraged his keeper.
“No ones been taking care of you.” Joker said softly as he stroked Bruce's straining cock. “How long has it been, Batsy?”
Bruce felt his head get heavy as it fell into his shoulder, he moaned uncontrollably and found it hard to find the words. It felt so good. Too good to be right, but not wrong either.
The clown sped up his pace and began fondling his balls with the other hand. “Tell me; when was the last time you had a good fuck.” The criminal sounded so sexy, his words were lewd but Bruce loved it.
“Uhgm, t-hen, ten months.” He was panting like a dog.
Joker purred and crawled closer to Bruce's dick and arched forward as if to swallow the whole thing, but then stopped.
He was watching now, he couldn't help it. Bruce's eyes glued on to the criminal, the man he was supposed to throw in jail, the same man that he wanted to suck his dick right now... Bruce could feel the hot breath of that same man roll against the head of his cock in soft blows and it was driving him crazy.
“Can I?” Joker smiled sinisterly and opened his mouth wide like a hungry child.
With the scars it was like his mouth was twice as big, so big with plump red lips. Batman quivered and his hips jumped up uncontrollably. He groaned, not wanting to say it. The millionaire thrusted his hips toward those delicious lips to show what he wanted. No luck.
“Tell me what you want Batsy.”
“I want you to...” a moment of hesitation, “suck my cock.” He almost whispered. Then again with vigor, “Suck me off!”
Bruce could have sworn he saw the Clown Prince of Crime shudder at his words, but that could have also just been his vision shaking as Joker wrapped his hot mouth around his cock.
His head fell back with a thud. He hissed through clenched teeth and cursed. “Hmm, oh, fuck yes.”
The criminal made little gasps of pleasure around the Bat's hard dick. Joker stroked his captives thigh and slapped the twitching muscle.
Bruce jerked his hips up into the other mans mouth; he arched up again and again, he didn't even hear Joker gagging on his length.
The clown didn't falter, he kept sucking and bobbing his head. He wore a torn smile the whole time.
The millionaire gathered the strength to glance down at the man blowing him. His green mop-top head rocked steadily to meet every short thrust. Bruce groaned and tried to bring his hands to that green head of hair so he could push those sinful lips closer. He growled like an animal when he couldn't reach out and touch him.
Bruce's breathing became ragged and short, his hips were jerking wildly now as a tight ball of heat expanded in his lower abdomen. He went rigid, he was so close. “Ah, fuck. Oh fuck yes.” A litany of cursed spilled out, he was going to-
Joker suddenly ripped his mouth away from Batman's dick, panting and wiping his mouth with his arm.
Bruce groaned and threw himself to the full extend of the cuffs in the clowns direction. He was aching everywhere and needed release. “Don't you dare stop now!”
The Joker, still breathing heavily, looked up at his Bat with hooded eyes. “I'm not stopping, basty.” He licked his lips, though slower than usual. The clown moan loud and long, “hmmm I want to taste you so bad.” He ducked down and licked Batman's weeping head as if he couldn't help himself. “But I've got a better idea.”
Bruce was aching. He had been so close, and then it stopped. He could barely think straight, let alone register anything his keeper was saying.
The Clown Prince was shaking. He had the Batman's thick cock in his mouth and oh, the noises he had been making...Joker groaned. He was rock hard. It hurt to move.
“I need you, I want it. I need you now,” he was barking like a mad dog; random tremors shivered across his frame. He reached behind his back and pulled forth the bottle of lubricant.
Bruce saw the small plastic bottle and didn't feel the same lurch of fear spring up from the pit of his stomach as he had before. It was different. Something jumped, but it wasn't fear. Excitement? No. That couldn't have been it.
The slick sound of liquid shooting out of a cap dragged the millionaire out of his head and back to the real world. Joker was squirting an incredibly tiny amount of lubricant onto his fingers.
The Dark Knight was sure that this meant he was going to be violated. He squeezed his eyes shut, sealing them closed to block out the invasive world all around him.
A slew of heavy panting and moaning broke the silence into shards; it gave Bruce chills in the all the right ways. Somewhere in his fractured mind the detective knew what he would be looking at, and he wanted so badly to watch. His eyes peeled apart.
It was a beautiful sight. Joker looked as if his pale skin were glowing while kneeling above Batman's strapped body. His head was thrown back, his stringy green hair springing out in every direction. The criminal's pasty throat jutted out and his Adam’s apple bobbed slowly up and down. “Aghhh” His thin arm was reached around behind his body, his hand out of sight, and yet Bruce knew exactly where it was...
The millionaire hadn’t thought it possible for his dick to swell any harder, but it did. Bruce moaned.
Joker heard the call and wrapped his smaller hand around the captive’s length and pumped it vigorously. “Do you want to fuck me?” The clown’s voice was breathless as he demanded an answer.
The millionaire pushed into the tightly coiled hand, but was not able to respond. He jerked his head to the right when the sensations became too intense.
“Do you want to fuck me?” The insane man questioned again, this time with more passion, and pulled his hand back into view.
That was it. That was the last straw.
Bruce groaned and his hips jerked violently at the thought. “Agh, fuck. God, Joker yes!”
A wicked smile inched across his torn face, “Yes what?” He was going to make him say it.
The Dark Knight groaned, but without misery. “Yes!” He clenched his teeth. “I want to fuck you!”
The clown quivered and came closer. He brought himself up so that he was kneeling above the vigilante’s stomach with his back facing the other man. Joker turned his head with owl-like flexibility and positioned Batman's erection just right.
The hero's breathing hitched as the head of his dick was being pressed against the other man's body. He looked up at the pale skin of Joker's back. 'Like porcelain,' he thought. He marveled at how soft it seemed, save the portion that was splotched with color from bruising. Bruce wanted to trace every pretty scar and wound. He writhed with excitement-- needing this so badly. He not only needed it, he wanted it.
The clown watched those pleading icy blue eyes with a craned neck and licked his bottom lip. “Just remember, you wanted it.” Joker shook as he fell back and impaled himself on the Bat's cock.
Their instantaneous cry was like a dirty chorus.
Bruce's body snapped up in a beautiful arch and his hips slammed forward uncontrollably. Batman was leaning on the table with his back propped up at an angle so that he could see down his torso. Joker sat on his captive’s groin while using his bent legs on either side of the Bat's body for support. Though the position they were in made movement difficult, Bruce was still driven to curl into the smaller man's body. The Bat groaned and threw his head back as he pumped his hips to a violent cadence.
Joker sobbed as his stringy limbs went weak from the sensation. He moaned and met each short thrust in time by pulling himself up and coming back down. Batman slide in and out of his body viciously; the ministrations were overwhelming. Joker had to brace himself with his hands against the Dark Knights legs when it got so rough he could barely stand it. “Aha!” He felt as if he was being torn apart but the pain pumped pleasure throughout his veins.
“Uggh, so good Batsy, hmm s'good,” he mumbled incoherently. Bruce hit his prostate. “Fuck. Oh yes! Fuck, ah yes. Uggh, fuck me Basty.” He was babbling as he took each deep penetration.
Bruce groaned throatily. He was close. “Let me touch you.” He moaned breathlessly and extended his right arm as far as the restraints would allow. “I want to touch you.”
There was no contemplation. Joker used one hand and skillfully unbound his right wrist with such a speed it would have put Houdini to shame.
Before Bruce could even get the blood to circulate in his hand he blindly located and began fisting Jokers weeping cock in time with each buck of his hips. “Do you like that?” he growled.
The clown whimpered like something broken as Batman fucked his ass and pumped his dick roughly. He couldn't speak at first. “Aha,” he gasped, “yes. Oh yes, Batsy!” His words were strangled and then cut off completely as a string of moans flew out. Joker went rigid and thick bands of cum came spurting across his and Bruce's abdomen.
Bruce's vision went white before he saw stars bleed across his sight as Joker climaxed. He spasmed uncontrollably around that tight heat; it was more than the hero could take. Batman painted Joker's insides as he reached the peak of a spine splintering orgasm.
The millionaire shivered. His mind was fuzzy and his body tingling. It took all his strength just to breathe. Bruce looked up at the fatigued body above him and blamed the post-orgasmic euphoria for the feelings of passion he was experiencing.
“Hmm,” the smug clown was glowing. Joker pulled himself away from the Bat's dick and turned around only to collapse on top of his captive. He found himself to be too weak to do much else. For moments after, the criminal suffered slight tremors pulsating through his spent body in rolling waves from his orgasm.
Bruce quickly began to fall from cloud nine. Why did this feel so right when it was clearly wrong? The vigilante sighed and bludgeoned these thoughts back into the deepest corner of his mind, to his closet of skeletons, with a hammer.
“So,” Joker sighed into a sweaty dip on the Dark Knights lean stomach, “was it good for you too, baby?” he crooned.
Though the bound man couldn't see it, he could feel the maimed smile spreading against his chest.
The hero flinched at the comment. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it when he realized he couldn't think of anything to say. Bruce became aware of his hand-- his right hand; the same that he had used to jerk off that mad man-it was free. It was free and moist with the evidence of what had been done.
The criminal pushed himself up to look at the other. “You could hit me, if you like,” the Clown Prince said pleasantly, as if he could sense the internal conflict swarming inside the other man.
Bruce understood the message and looked away. This was not a statement or a question. It was an offer. His captor wasn't saying 'well you could hit me if you wanted and probably escape, too.' No, instead the inferred meaning was 'you can hit me as hard as you like if it'll make you feel better.'
The vigilante blinked. “No.” Batman started to pull up his shield again. However, the weight from his body -Joker's warm body- kept the walls from reeling up. “Why did you do this?”
“Me?” Joker squealed. “Why did we do that!” He corrected loudly. “Remember what you wanted. I didn't do anything you didn't want.” The clown pushed his nimble fingers through Batman's and held his hand tightly.
Bruce ignored the slick squishing noise squeezing from their pressed palms. He suddenly felt uncomfortable with the intimate gesture and sneered at his hand as if it had betrayed him. “Was it to break me? Because it won’t work.” He simply dismissed the previous statement as if it wasn't even there.
The criminal smiled knowingly and shook his head slowly to gesture 'no'.
“I don't understand!” Bruce growled threateningly and pulled back his hand. His fingers curled back into a tightly wound fist and his arm shook with rage; he didn't raise his hand to strike.
Joker frowned. “I told you.” He absently stroked Batman's forearm, his fingertips lingering on an engorged blue vein. “Why don't you ever listen? Maybe you did...I wasn't lying earlier.” He giggled in an exhausted way. “I meant everything I said.”
The phrase, though vague, meant so much.
Bruce shook his head in defiance. He could not accept that, he couldn't. “How can you say that? You don't know the meaning of the word. You don't know what you’re talking about.”
Ambiguous words such as 'everything' and 'that' all eluded to one not so vague statement made earlier.
~No one else will ever accept you like I do. No one will need you, want you, love you like I do. ~
The strangled chain of words hung unspoken in the air-hung like a too short noose inside Bruce's head.
“I love-”
“Shut up!” The Dark Knight thrashed. “You don't mean it! You’re fucking crazy and you don't know what the hell you’re talking about!” Still, his balled fist hadn't left his side. Why was he so adamant about not hitting this madman?
Joker leaned in closely, intimately close. He looked Bruce in the eyes and straightened his neck. “Do you really think I don't mean it?” His eye lids were at half mast and his mouth plump. He looked as serious as he could wearing that permanent smile. “Really?”
Bruce struck out. Like lightning his hand flew out and his fingers coiled around that slim ivory throat. He would rather twist this fragile neck than answer that question.
The clown gasped pleasantly and leaned into the constricting touch. His eyes rolled back and then shut.
It was at this moment when Bruce noticed just how much paint was gone from the criminals face. Most of the white paste had either melted or been smudged off by now. In some rare spots he actually saw what could be considered skin. It was odd how true flesh looked more out of place and fake than did the white face-paint.
Tightening his grip, the bound man clenched his jaws as he angrily drained the life out of the other. Batman marveled at the warmth and softness of the ivory skin beneath his palm. 'Pliable porcelain,' he thought idly.
The criminal swallowed slowly and Bruce could feel the skin slide up and down over hard bone, he could feel the Adam’s apple bob. Bruce suddenly remembered how good it had felt inside that throat.
Joker moaned and shifted what must have been his arm. Batman assumed he would soon try to pry away. The clown gasped again but it was much raspier than before. His eyes popped open.
Never before had Bruce noticed the captivity of Joker's green eyes. The twin pools were glossy and glowing with an intensity that only the insane could posses. Why couldn't he look away? The orbs were beautiful –lovely- in every respect. They harbored so much it made the millionaire’s head spin. There was no fear in the stare however, no anger or guilt either. But lust did swim in each fuzzy iris. The green bands were saturated in something else too, something Bruce couldn't recognize.
Joker's balance was shaky as his blood cells screamed for oxygen. Soon his balance grew shaky when the need for breath became too much. The green haired man fell forward. He caught himself by planting the palms of his hands on both sides of the captive’s body. Now he hung directly above Batman's face.
Despite the jerky fall Bruce still couldn't bring himself to rip his attention away from that green gaze. He did, however, tighten his grip, which had gone slack.
The clown’s reaction was immediate. He sporadically ground his pelvis against the other man's thigh and a dry breath cracked in his throat. Joker writhed as a nearly silent cry rolled through his dry lips.
Bruce didn't seem to notice.
Whether it was to satisfy his own animosity or enhance the pleasure of the suffocating man, the Dark Knight refused to release the pliable jugular. Batman watched those burning green eyes. He expected the fires to start to wither, grow weak or fatigued, however, that passion never dissipated.
Bruce growled, threatening those unmoving eyes to do something -anything. The personal stare was not broken.
Batman suddenly realized the body attached to the esophagus he was strangling was shaking, and so was the table. Joker's hip bones were stabbing against his thigh with a familiar rhythm. A violent spasm shot Joker's spine and rocked him into an angelic arch. He climaxed for the second time that night by Bruce's hand.
Directly after feeling the wet pool shoot across his thigh Bruce yanked his hand away from the ivory shaft.
Joker gasped for air in a loud howling inhale. He forced himself backwards, tumbling off the table. For minutes, the Clown Prince remained down, content on tasting the sweet oxygen and listening to the hypnotic beat of his swollen veins surge through his skull.
Post-orgasmic and glowing, the clown found his pants on the floor and pulled them up around his slim waist. He bounced up with a smile and politely tugged up the elastic band of Bruce's briefs. Now both men were decent.
Bruce watched the soft length of the criminal’s throat closely. The skin was still red and irritated all over, finger-tipped blotches freckled the shaft. The bound man could still see an outline of his own big hand around that neck -he could still see himself choking the Clown Prince.
Joker noticed the Bat's gawking and stroked his Adam's apple. He started giggling quietly but the hushed joy soon escalated and rose to a roaring laugh. “Hoo”, he had to gasp for breath, “Hoo, haha, who woulda, ha, ha, he, who thought Batman would haaafve a kinky side?” He bent over and squeezed his bony knees. “A lil, erotic asphyxiation, eh?”
Bruce growled, swung his arms, kicked and shouted. He was furious. “Let me go!” He began to tug at the ridiculously well tied knot. “I've had enough of your games!”
“I'll let you go,” the clown said simply and spun around on his bare heel.
Confused like never before the detective was surprised with the criminal's response. 'He's letting me go? Just like that?'
All but skipping over to a table in the far side of the room the green haired man seemed delighted. He talked from somewhere out of his captives line of sight, “I feel like you should have bought me dinner, or something,” when the other didn't respond Joker continued, “you can try all ya' want. No one gets outa my knots.”
Bruce noticed the timber of his voice was changing -he was walking closer. “This doesn't change anything. I am going to put you away.”
“Oh! Of course not, I wouldn't expect it to.”
For some reason Batman could hear a pitch of sarcasm tainting the criminal's speech.
“Though,” Joker started off conversationally, “I wish you'd remember a few things.”
Why did this killer look hurt, and why did Bruce care?
“Remember, I didn't take your mask; I didn't hurt you, and…” he paused and pushed his hand into the other man's face. It hovered so closely the millionaire could make out each angry blistered finger. A white cloth was shoved under Bruce's nose. The last thing the hero heard before the chloroform kicked in, “and remember you wanted it.”
He pressed far into Bruce's personal space, so close Bruce could feel the breath coming from Jokers nose, and it made the millionaire uncomfortable.
Joker could feel Batman's dick beneath him. The masked man was already growing hard. It stabbed his own cock as he pressed against the vigilante, it made the mad man moan shamelessly into the nook of Batman's neck.
“Get. Away. From. Me.” Bruce was seething, though relieved that the criminal had stopped stripping him of his shorts.
“You're so hard.”
The proud super hero wanted to refuse the accusation, but he couldn't deny it now. He was steadily becoming more and more aroused. And every time that psychopath shifted Bruce was aware of how good it felt to have Jokers hot body rub up against his own.
The Clown Price of Crime watched his obsession think quietly, but then interrupted, “I want to see your face.”
Batman froze.
“I want to take it off,” he reached for the mask and Batman held his breath. Joker pulled away. “How about this, if you promise to enjoy yourself, I'll let you keep that ridiculous mask. Sounds good?”
Again, Bruce fell silent. What was he supposed to say? The very idea...it made his skin crawl. He couldn't have this psycho see his face.
Joker looked at his eyes, they were shifting back and forth wildly and glazed over with fear. He had never seen fear there before, the Clown Prince of Crime didn't like it. He leaned down, so his scarred mouth was hovering over the other mans lips. They were so close, once he began to talk he could feel his own lips faintly touch over Batman's. “I promise, you'll enjoy it.”
The Dark Knight shuddered like a sheet of paper in the wind and swallowed. He didn't have to
say anything, they both knew that Joker had won when Bruce's body went lax. What could he expect? He didn't know; he had an idea, though. It seemed as if his fears had been confirmed when Joker ran his hands down the other mans rib cage then slid off the bed.
He came back with a bottle of lubricant. Bruce averted his gaze back to the humming lights. He vaguely wondered why the criminal would even bother with lube if he was just going to rape him. The fear multiplied and divided within the bound man like cells at work.
Meanwhile Joker had stripped himself of his shoes and trousers. He stood, now, in his silky green boxers showing off his slim form with his hips slightly sticking out in a odd pose.
Bruce noticed the Clown Prince of Crime had a small waste and long legs, that of almost a feminine nature. But he wasn't a woman, that was evident by the green tent between his legs. The clown stalked closer like a cat and crawled up Batman's strapped body.
“I'm going to take care of you.” He reassured and pawed at the vigilantes chest, drawing lines of irritated skin behind his nails. The criminal sat between the Bat's spread legs and bowed his green head as if in prayer to kiss Bruce's jutting hip bone, laving it with moist lips.
Bruce squirmed, the sensation climbed up his body and down his loins. It all only intensified when Joker began to nip at the skin and graze a canine against the bone. Bruce groaned again and balled his hands into tight fists. He liked teeth.
He closed his eyes, he didn't want to watch. He didn't want to see his body succumb to this mad mans advances. Bruce could feel the swelling growth between his legs and shifted, wanting to relieve that tension.
Joker seemed to be able to feel the sexual frustration rolling of off Batman, he wanted to help him with that. The clown pulled his hand away from the Bats stomach and slid into Bruce's shorts.
The millionaire gasped and popped his eyes open when he felt a confident hand reach in and
wrap around his length. Another guttural sound of pleasure passed his lips and it only encouraged his keeper.
“No ones been taking care of you.” Joker said softly as he stroked Bruce's straining cock. “How long has it been, Batsy?”
Bruce felt his head get heavy as it fell into his shoulder, he moaned uncontrollably and found it hard to find the words. It felt so good. Too good to be right, but not wrong either.
The clown sped up his pace and began fondling his balls with the other hand. “Tell me; when was the last time you had a good fuck.” The criminal sounded so sexy, his words were lewd but Bruce loved it.
“Uhgm, t-hen, ten months.” He was panting like a dog.
Joker purred and crawled closer to Bruce's dick and arched forward as if to swallow the whole thing, but then stopped.
He was watching now, he couldn't help it. Bruce's eyes glued on to the criminal, the man he was supposed to throw in jail, the same man that he wanted to suck his dick right now... Bruce could feel the hot breath of that same man roll against the head of his cock in soft blows and it was driving him crazy.
“Can I?” Joker smiled sinisterly and opened his mouth wide like a hungry child.
With the scars it was like his mouth was twice as big, so big with plump red lips. Batman quivered and his hips jumped up uncontrollably. He groaned, not wanting to say it. The millionaire thrusted his hips toward those delicious lips to show what he wanted. No luck.
“Tell me what you want Batsy.”
“I want you to...” a moment of hesitation, “suck my cock.” He almost whispered. Then again with vigor, “Suck me off!”
Bruce could have sworn he saw the Clown Prince of Crime shudder at his words, but that could have also just been his vision shaking as Joker wrapped his hot mouth around his cock.
His head fell back with a thud. He hissed through clenched teeth and cursed. “Hmm, oh, fuck yes.”
The criminal made little gasps of pleasure around the Bat's hard dick. Joker stroked his captives thigh and slapped the twitching muscle.
Bruce jerked his hips up into the other mans mouth; he arched up again and again, he didn't even hear Joker gagging on his length.
The clown didn't falter, he kept sucking and bobbing his head. He wore a torn smile the whole time.
The millionaire gathered the strength to glance down at the man blowing him. His green mop-top head rocked steadily to meet every short thrust. Bruce groaned and tried to bring his hands to that green head of hair so he could push those sinful lips closer. He growled like an animal when he couldn't reach out and touch him.
Bruce's breathing became ragged and short, his hips were jerking wildly now as a tight ball of heat expanded in his lower abdomen. He went rigid, he was so close. “Ah, fuck. Oh fuck yes.” A litany of cursed spilled out, he was going to-
Joker suddenly ripped his mouth away from Batman's dick, panting and wiping his mouth with his arm.
Bruce groaned and threw himself to the full extend of the cuffs in the clowns direction. He was aching everywhere and needed release. “Don't you dare stop now!”
The Joker, still breathing heavily, looked up at his Bat with hooded eyes. “I'm not stopping, basty.” He licked his lips, though slower than usual. The clown moan loud and long, “hmmm I want to taste you so bad.” He ducked down and licked Batman's weeping head as if he couldn't help himself. “But I've got a better idea.”
Bruce was aching. He had been so close, and then it stopped. He could barely think straight, let alone register anything his keeper was saying.
The Clown Prince was shaking. He had the Batman's thick cock in his mouth and oh, the noises he had been making...Joker groaned. He was rock hard. It hurt to move.
“I need you, I want it. I need you now,” he was barking like a mad dog; random tremors shivered across his frame. He reached behind his back and pulled forth the bottle of lubricant.
Bruce saw the small plastic bottle and didn't feel the same lurch of fear spring up from the pit of his stomach as he had before. It was different. Something jumped, but it wasn't fear. Excitement? No. That couldn't have been it.
The slick sound of liquid shooting out of a cap dragged the millionaire out of his head and back to the real world. Joker was squirting an incredibly tiny amount of lubricant onto his fingers.
The Dark Knight was sure that this meant he was going to be violated. He squeezed his eyes shut, sealing them closed to block out the invasive world all around him.
A slew of heavy panting and moaning broke the silence into shards; it gave Bruce chills in the all the right ways. Somewhere in his fractured mind the detective knew what he would be looking at, and he wanted so badly to watch. His eyes peeled apart.
It was a beautiful sight. Joker looked as if his pale skin were glowing while kneeling above Batman's strapped body. His head was thrown back, his stringy green hair springing out in every direction. The criminal's pasty throat jutted out and his Adam’s apple bobbed slowly up and down. “Aghhh” His thin arm was reached around behind his body, his hand out of sight, and yet Bruce knew exactly where it was...
The millionaire hadn’t thought it possible for his dick to swell any harder, but it did. Bruce moaned.
Joker heard the call and wrapped his smaller hand around the captive’s length and pumped it vigorously. “Do you want to fuck me?” The clown’s voice was breathless as he demanded an answer.
The millionaire pushed into the tightly coiled hand, but was not able to respond. He jerked his head to the right when the sensations became too intense.
“Do you want to fuck me?” The insane man questioned again, this time with more passion, and pulled his hand back into view.
That was it. That was the last straw.
Bruce groaned and his hips jerked violently at the thought. “Agh, fuck. God, Joker yes!”
A wicked smile inched across his torn face, “Yes what?” He was going to make him say it.
The Dark Knight groaned, but without misery. “Yes!” He clenched his teeth. “I want to fuck you!”
The clown quivered and came closer. He brought himself up so that he was kneeling above the vigilante’s stomach with his back facing the other man. Joker turned his head with owl-like flexibility and positioned Batman's erection just right.
The hero's breathing hitched as the head of his dick was being pressed against the other man's body. He looked up at the pale skin of Joker's back. 'Like porcelain,' he thought. He marveled at how soft it seemed, save the portion that was splotched with color from bruising. Bruce wanted to trace every pretty scar and wound. He writhed with excitement-- needing this so badly. He not only needed it, he wanted it.
The clown watched those pleading icy blue eyes with a craned neck and licked his bottom lip. “Just remember, you wanted it.” Joker shook as he fell back and impaled himself on the Bat's cock.
Their instantaneous cry was like a dirty chorus.
Bruce's body snapped up in a beautiful arch and his hips slammed forward uncontrollably. Batman was leaning on the table with his back propped up at an angle so that he could see down his torso. Joker sat on his captive’s groin while using his bent legs on either side of the Bat's body for support. Though the position they were in made movement difficult, Bruce was still driven to curl into the smaller man's body. The Bat groaned and threw his head back as he pumped his hips to a violent cadence.
Joker sobbed as his stringy limbs went weak from the sensation. He moaned and met each short thrust in time by pulling himself up and coming back down. Batman slide in and out of his body viciously; the ministrations were overwhelming. Joker had to brace himself with his hands against the Dark Knights legs when it got so rough he could barely stand it. “Aha!” He felt as if he was being torn apart but the pain pumped pleasure throughout his veins.
“Uggh, so good Batsy, hmm s'good,” he mumbled incoherently. Bruce hit his prostate. “Fuck. Oh yes! Fuck, ah yes. Uggh, fuck me Basty.” He was babbling as he took each deep penetration.
Bruce groaned throatily. He was close. “Let me touch you.” He moaned breathlessly and extended his right arm as far as the restraints would allow. “I want to touch you.”
There was no contemplation. Joker used one hand and skillfully unbound his right wrist with such a speed it would have put Houdini to shame.
Before Bruce could even get the blood to circulate in his hand he blindly located and began fisting Jokers weeping cock in time with each buck of his hips. “Do you like that?” he growled.
The clown whimpered like something broken as Batman fucked his ass and pumped his dick roughly. He couldn't speak at first. “Aha,” he gasped, “yes. Oh yes, Batsy!” His words were strangled and then cut off completely as a string of moans flew out. Joker went rigid and thick bands of cum came spurting across his and Bruce's abdomen.
Bruce's vision went white before he saw stars bleed across his sight as Joker climaxed. He spasmed uncontrollably around that tight heat; it was more than the hero could take. Batman painted Joker's insides as he reached the peak of a spine splintering orgasm.
The millionaire shivered. His mind was fuzzy and his body tingling. It took all his strength just to breathe. Bruce looked up at the fatigued body above him and blamed the post-orgasmic euphoria for the feelings of passion he was experiencing.
“Hmm,” the smug clown was glowing. Joker pulled himself away from the Bat's dick and turned around only to collapse on top of his captive. He found himself to be too weak to do much else. For moments after, the criminal suffered slight tremors pulsating through his spent body in rolling waves from his orgasm.
Bruce quickly began to fall from cloud nine. Why did this feel so right when it was clearly wrong? The vigilante sighed and bludgeoned these thoughts back into the deepest corner of his mind, to his closet of skeletons, with a hammer.
“So,” Joker sighed into a sweaty dip on the Dark Knights lean stomach, “was it good for you too, baby?” he crooned.
Though the bound man couldn't see it, he could feel the maimed smile spreading against his chest.
The hero flinched at the comment. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it when he realized he couldn't think of anything to say. Bruce became aware of his hand-- his right hand; the same that he had used to jerk off that mad man-it was free. It was free and moist with the evidence of what had been done.
The criminal pushed himself up to look at the other. “You could hit me, if you like,” the Clown Prince said pleasantly, as if he could sense the internal conflict swarming inside the other man.
Bruce understood the message and looked away. This was not a statement or a question. It was an offer. His captor wasn't saying 'well you could hit me if you wanted and probably escape, too.' No, instead the inferred meaning was 'you can hit me as hard as you like if it'll make you feel better.'
The vigilante blinked. “No.” Batman started to pull up his shield again. However, the weight from his body -Joker's warm body- kept the walls from reeling up. “Why did you do this?”
“Me?” Joker squealed. “Why did we do that!” He corrected loudly. “Remember what you wanted. I didn't do anything you didn't want.” The clown pushed his nimble fingers through Batman's and held his hand tightly.
Bruce ignored the slick squishing noise squeezing from their pressed palms. He suddenly felt uncomfortable with the intimate gesture and sneered at his hand as if it had betrayed him. “Was it to break me? Because it won’t work.” He simply dismissed the previous statement as if it wasn't even there.
The criminal smiled knowingly and shook his head slowly to gesture 'no'.
“I don't understand!” Bruce growled threateningly and pulled back his hand. His fingers curled back into a tightly wound fist and his arm shook with rage; he didn't raise his hand to strike.
Joker frowned. “I told you.” He absently stroked Batman's forearm, his fingertips lingering on an engorged blue vein. “Why don't you ever listen? Maybe you did...I wasn't lying earlier.” He giggled in an exhausted way. “I meant everything I said.”
The phrase, though vague, meant so much.
Bruce shook his head in defiance. He could not accept that, he couldn't. “How can you say that? You don't know the meaning of the word. You don't know what you’re talking about.”
Ambiguous words such as 'everything' and 'that' all eluded to one not so vague statement made earlier.
~No one else will ever accept you like I do. No one will need you, want you, love you like I do. ~
The strangled chain of words hung unspoken in the air-hung like a too short noose inside Bruce's head.
“I love-”
“Shut up!” The Dark Knight thrashed. “You don't mean it! You’re fucking crazy and you don't know what the hell you’re talking about!” Still, his balled fist hadn't left his side. Why was he so adamant about not hitting this madman?
Joker leaned in closely, intimately close. He looked Bruce in the eyes and straightened his neck. “Do you really think I don't mean it?” His eye lids were at half mast and his mouth plump. He looked as serious as he could wearing that permanent smile. “Really?”
Bruce struck out. Like lightning his hand flew out and his fingers coiled around that slim ivory throat. He would rather twist this fragile neck than answer that question.
The clown gasped pleasantly and leaned into the constricting touch. His eyes rolled back and then shut.
It was at this moment when Bruce noticed just how much paint was gone from the criminals face. Most of the white paste had either melted or been smudged off by now. In some rare spots he actually saw what could be considered skin. It was odd how true flesh looked more out of place and fake than did the white face-paint.
Tightening his grip, the bound man clenched his jaws as he angrily drained the life out of the other. Batman marveled at the warmth and softness of the ivory skin beneath his palm. 'Pliable porcelain,' he thought idly.
The criminal swallowed slowly and Bruce could feel the skin slide up and down over hard bone, he could feel the Adam’s apple bob. Bruce suddenly remembered how good it had felt inside that throat.
Joker moaned and shifted what must have been his arm. Batman assumed he would soon try to pry away. The clown gasped again but it was much raspier than before. His eyes popped open.
Never before had Bruce noticed the captivity of Joker's green eyes. The twin pools were glossy and glowing with an intensity that only the insane could posses. Why couldn't he look away? The orbs were beautiful –lovely- in every respect. They harbored so much it made the millionaire’s head spin. There was no fear in the stare however, no anger or guilt either. But lust did swim in each fuzzy iris. The green bands were saturated in something else too, something Bruce couldn't recognize.
Joker's balance was shaky as his blood cells screamed for oxygen. Soon his balance grew shaky when the need for breath became too much. The green haired man fell forward. He caught himself by planting the palms of his hands on both sides of the captive’s body. Now he hung directly above Batman's face.
Despite the jerky fall Bruce still couldn't bring himself to rip his attention away from that green gaze. He did, however, tighten his grip, which had gone slack.
The clown’s reaction was immediate. He sporadically ground his pelvis against the other man's thigh and a dry breath cracked in his throat. Joker writhed as a nearly silent cry rolled through his dry lips.
Bruce didn't seem to notice.
Whether it was to satisfy his own animosity or enhance the pleasure of the suffocating man, the Dark Knight refused to release the pliable jugular. Batman watched those burning green eyes. He expected the fires to start to wither, grow weak or fatigued, however, that passion never dissipated.
Bruce growled, threatening those unmoving eyes to do something -anything. The personal stare was not broken.
Batman suddenly realized the body attached to the esophagus he was strangling was shaking, and so was the table. Joker's hip bones were stabbing against his thigh with a familiar rhythm. A violent spasm shot Joker's spine and rocked him into an angelic arch. He climaxed for the second time that night by Bruce's hand.
Directly after feeling the wet pool shoot across his thigh Bruce yanked his hand away from the ivory shaft.
Joker gasped for air in a loud howling inhale. He forced himself backwards, tumbling off the table. For minutes, the Clown Prince remained down, content on tasting the sweet oxygen and listening to the hypnotic beat of his swollen veins surge through his skull.
Post-orgasmic and glowing, the clown found his pants on the floor and pulled them up around his slim waist. He bounced up with a smile and politely tugged up the elastic band of Bruce's briefs. Now both men were decent.
Bruce watched the soft length of the criminal’s throat closely. The skin was still red and irritated all over, finger-tipped blotches freckled the shaft. The bound man could still see an outline of his own big hand around that neck -he could still see himself choking the Clown Prince.
Joker noticed the Bat's gawking and stroked his Adam's apple. He started giggling quietly but the hushed joy soon escalated and rose to a roaring laugh. “Hoo”, he had to gasp for breath, “Hoo, haha, who woulda, ha, ha, he, who thought Batman would haaafve a kinky side?” He bent over and squeezed his bony knees. “A lil, erotic asphyxiation, eh?”
Bruce growled, swung his arms, kicked and shouted. He was furious. “Let me go!” He began to tug at the ridiculously well tied knot. “I've had enough of your games!”
“I'll let you go,” the clown said simply and spun around on his bare heel.
Confused like never before the detective was surprised with the criminal's response. 'He's letting me go? Just like that?'
All but skipping over to a table in the far side of the room the green haired man seemed delighted. He talked from somewhere out of his captives line of sight, “I feel like you should have bought me dinner, or something,” when the other didn't respond Joker continued, “you can try all ya' want. No one gets outa my knots.”
Bruce noticed the timber of his voice was changing -he was walking closer. “This doesn't change anything. I am going to put you away.”
“Oh! Of course not, I wouldn't expect it to.”
For some reason Batman could hear a pitch of sarcasm tainting the criminal's speech.
“Though,” Joker started off conversationally, “I wish you'd remember a few things.”
Why did this killer look hurt, and why did Bruce care?
“Remember, I didn't take your mask; I didn't hurt you, and…” he paused and pushed his hand into the other man's face. It hovered so closely the millionaire could make out each angry blistered finger. A white cloth was shoved under Bruce's nose. The last thing the hero heard before the chloroform kicked in, “and remember you wanted it.”
