~Jokes On You~ {Kalab & Echo} (extreme content)

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Silent Echo

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Harley dressed herself smartly for her first day at Arkham Asylum. She’d had her doctorates in psychology for a while now, but they had transferred her from her current location to Arkham for a number of reasons she supposed. Her colleges called her weird, and eccentric behind her back, but to her face they called her quirky and too sweet for words. Mix that with the fact that a number of her patients had resorted to committing suicide and well, here she was with the worst of the worst in the hopes that perhaps her eccentricity might rub off on one of them and there would be one less major criminal here in Gotham.

As it turned out, Professor Hugo Strange had asked for her specifically, but Harley wasn’t aware of that fact just yet. As she left her small apartment in the heart of Gotham, her neighbor came home, bumping into her as she always did with utter disregard, mumbling under her breath for Harley to watch where she was going while Harley herself would apologize and hurry toward the elevator. On the inside though, she was screaming at her to watch herself lest she shove her house keys into her fucking throat. But she’d never say that out loud. Not in a million years.

Pulling her coat over her breast she headed out into the grey of the day, driving her beat up car to Arkham and entering its gates. Her new tags were given to her prior to her getting there, as were the files of those she’d be taking on as new patients. Edward Nigma, Oswald Cobblepot, Harvey Dent, and the Joker. It seemed that Joker didn’t have any other name other than that. His file was the most interesting to Harley. An alias so ingrained that no one knew who he really was other than the persona he portrayed. It was highly unusual. Everyone had a background. Joker, however, did not appear to at all.

So as a result, she set her schedule around him, going through the motions of everyone else before saving him for last so that she could focus more of her time on him. Taking a mild break to eat something and get a cup of coffee, she waited while they escorted Mr. Joker to the room she’d be interviewing him in for their first session, before finally going there herself, opening the door and stepping inside.

“Hello Mr. Joker. My name is Dr. Harleen Quinzel. I’ll be your new psychiatrist here at Arkham. It is my hope to eventually rehabilitate you back into the norms of society,” she started to say to him, sitting down in her chair across from him, setting down his file and her cup of coffee. “So tell me Mr. Joker, how best do /you/ think I can help you to do that?”
 
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[BCOLOR=#000000]The waiting game. He’s played it before with them. Oh, how he has played it before with them. You’d think they would come up with something a bit more original. Yes he has an impulse disorder but that is common knowledge. He has so many other wonderful disorders that they could play upon. Why do they always choose that one. “I expect more from you Hugo!” Joker spoke up at the hidden camera that he knew was watching him. He knew where all the cameras were. “You are a disappointment to your profession and to yo mama.” Joker laughed insanely as the cuffs that had him secured to the table fell free and he rose from his chair to pace along the back wall of the room.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=#000000]“Again. Disappointment. I really don’t think that you appreciate the depth of my skills. Handcuffs? Really?” He waved his hand towards the table where the remains of the ball point pen lay on the table. He had swiped it off one of the guards that escorted him to the room he waited in now. The guard had slipped up and forgot it in his pocket. It was silver and shiny. The joker had spotted it right away.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=#000000]“And I hope my new therapist has a sense of humor unlike the last… How many were there?” Joker began to count on his fingers then looked down at his bare feet and moved his toes as he pretended to count of of them as well. He knew exactly how many he had killed and/or retired.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=#000000]A calm monotone voice came over the speaker hidden somewhere in the room. Joker knew where that was too. He had the entire blueprint of Arkham etched to memory and even knew the stuff that wasn’t on the blueprints. It was, after all, like his second home. He even liked the food, at least liked it better than Blackgate. “Are we talking your entire history with the facility or just your recent tenure?”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=#000000]Joker smiled up at the camera. “Hugo old boy. This must be a special occasion if you are here to watch. And the answer is seven. You must let me help you with your future applicants. I am very competent when it comes to hiring good help. I’ve had some of the best working for me.”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=#000000]“And yet here you are. So you admit it was your incompetence and not that of your employees that you were caught?”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=#000000]“I’ll admit no such thing! I’ll have you know that was rude, Hugo. You are not a very polite host. I was caught because I missed chicken night. I’m a very melancholy kind of guy when you get to know me better. You should come over some time and get to know me better Hugo. Matter of fact, I have an open spot right now if you want to drop in for a spot of tea and some witty banter.”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=#000000]“I’m afraid my schedule won’t permit Mister Joker…”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=#000000]“Please Hugo, just Joker. After all we’ve been through together? The electricity and hallucinogens? The thorazine? There is no need for the formalities.”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=#000000]“Fine then, Joker. And speaking of formalities, would you mind returning to your seat and replacing the cuffs. Your new therapist will be arriving soon. I think you will like this one so give them a chance before you kill them.”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=#000000]“I can’t make no promises Hugo but I’ll put the cuffs back on for now. Remember though, we have us a date me and you.” Joker returned to his seat and replaced the cuffs. “Tea and witty banter.” The speaker remained silent and Joker saw and heard the doorknob turn and the door swing inward. The woman that entered wasn’t ugly by any means but Joker didn’t see her as anything special. Then she spoke. Back to the norms of society?[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=#000000]Joker almost fell into a fit of laughter but managed to restrain it to a chuckle. “Harleen is it? Haaarrrllleeennn. Sort of rolls off the tongue don’t it. Harleen, I think you’re making progress already. I don’t even want to kill you yet.” Joker smiled his biggest and most charming smile at his new psychiatrist. He didn’t want to kill her yet but raping her was still on the table.[/BCOLOR]
 
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Harleen had a rather notorious background. At a very young age she had witnessed the death of her mother, and it wasn’t all that pleasant to the eye. As a result, those around her felt that she had somehow… changed from the experience, no longer garnering a respect or remorse for life itself. If anything, she had usually been either very angry, or very exuberant around people. When she had nearly killed a neighbor boy in a fit of rage, her father placed her under strict care that entailed a flux of academic study, gymnastics, and a plethora of other activities to not only keep her busy but to teach her how to behave according to societal terms and high life living. She had an image to uphold, and uphold it she did.

After her father died, him not having expressed any manner of love, affection, or even pride in how far she had come, she only relented to further herself in his image, striving for that appraisal that she was often after. As a result she had graduated not only high school, but an Ivy league college at the top of her class, making Valedictorian in both instances. She went on to receive scholarship after scholarship to further her studies, and now held a doctorates not only in clinical psychology, but in the field of criminology as well. Being so sociopathic herself, she was often able to see deeply into those she treated, and had often managed to make them feel so vulnerable and uncomfortable with their actions that on more than one occasion, in fact on many occasions, it had led to their suicides. She had the highest rate of suicidal patients out of all her colleges in fact. It wasn’t a fact that was entirely lost on her by any means. And it was no wonder her staff had deemed her the Black Widow behind her back.

However, that upfront and no bullshit attitude was reserved only for her patients, behind closed doors. On the surface she wore a mask of sweetness and sometimes air-headedness in order to deem herself more innocent to those who were around her. Only a select few had seen glimpses of that darker side to her, and she preferred it that way. So when the Joker made his remark to her she regarded him carefully before leaning forward in her seat and folding her hands together on the table. Had she known Professor Strange was not only listening but watching at the moment, she might have been a little more reserved than she was, but oblivious to that fact, even though she really shouldn’t have been given the circumstances, she laid it out beautifully for the Joker in an instant.

“How about we cut the shit, shall we? We both know that you don’t need those cuffs. Whether it was accidental or intentional I’ve already seen the spring to the pen you’re holding in your hands so I /know/ you can get out of them if you haven’t already done so. And if you even think of using that pen to stab me you’d best be sure not to miss or else I’ll kick your nuts so far up your throat they’ll be coming out of your mouth.”

With a small smirk she sat back in her chair again and opened his file before her, flipping through the pages. “From what I’ve read so far of you Mr. Joker, it seems a common theme for you is impulse control disorder. But you already know that now don’t you hmm? Let’s see. Antisocial traits, that likely stem from your childhood or adolescence, though of that I can’t really be sure. Interpersonal traits such as a very inflated notion of your own self-importance, frequent lying and severe manipulation of those around you, and a superficial lifestyle choice. Affective traits such as a callousness towards others, as is evident by the many people you’ve raped, murdered, and tortured over your time here in Gotham, a limited emotional responsiveness, a strong pattern of avoiding personal responsibility for any of the things you’ve done, and you seem to have zero guilt or regret for any of these things either.

Then of course there’s your lifestyle traits including, as mentioned before, frequent impulsive behavior, a recurring pursuit of highly stimulating experiences, a pattern of unrealistic life expectations, and a frequent reliance on others for financial or material support.

Would you say I’m correct so far or should I continue? Normally speaking when dealing with a psychopath one such as myself would only find a few traits in each category, sometimes none at all in several aspects of psychopathy, but you, Mr. Joker, seem to exhibit all of them, and I must say, I find that entirely fascinating.”
Her blue eyes peered up through her glasses at him and held his amused gaze intently. “In all honesty, I’m not sure there’s really anything I can do for you for all intents and purposes. However, I’ll likely continue to see you, purely for scientific reasons if you wouldn’t mind. I’m not /really/ asking your permission of course. But I’m rather certain I can study you and develop an extensive paper into the mind of the world’s greatest psychopath. Why Mr. Joker, if I did that you’d be famous. Not just here in Gotham, but across the globe,” she stated, trying to appeal to his more narcissistic side.
 
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[BCOLOR=transparent]Joker overdramatically mocked an expression of concern at the threat from the young psychiatrist. Throughout her monologue he switched from overly dramatic expressions of innocence, intrigue and concern between bouts of uncontrollable giggling. If he took anything she said seriously, he didn’t show it in the least bit by his mannerisms. The most polite thing that he did do was allow her to finish speaking before joining the conversation which for him was about the closest thing to respect as you could expect.[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]“Harleen. Harleeeen. You don’t mind if I call you Harleen?” He continued without waiting for a response. “Good. Harleen it is then. First of all, let's leave my nuts out of this for the time being. If you are determined to bring them up, I’ll consider talking about my nuts with you another time. This is our first date after all. I wouldn’t want you to think I’m easy.” Whether she was about to cut in or not, he assumed she was and held up his hand palm out towards her. “Ah. Remember our manners. It’s still my turn.” He was more than sure that the fact that he was free of his cuffs again did not escape her notice. They hadn’t even rattled as he let them down onto the table between them.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Second. I’m deeply offended that you believe I would miss. I don’t miss, unless you’re wearing bat ears, but I’m still working on that. I still haven’t figured out what it is about bats that doesn’t allow them to die. The bird boys can die. I’ve seen that in person but the bats just keep living. Don’t distract me. You got me off point.”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Joker stood from the chair and straightened out the bright orange jumpsuit that was standard issue for patients at the asylum. He was barefooted, choosing not to wear the shower shoes that were also standard issue. If he had shocked her by leaving his chair, he hadn’t paid her the attention to notice. “I’m invoking parley so that we may talk with no risk of stabbings or nut kickings. It’s the civilized thing to do. I know we aren’t pirates but it still counts.”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Joker stopped pacing and turned to face her. “I am not your lab rat young lady. You can study me and write books like I’m just an object to be scrutinized. I’m a person dammit. As for famous, I’ll have you know that my body count is second only to religion and war. I’m more than famous, I’m an icon, so don’t try that ego shit with me. But….”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Joker dropped back into the chair across the table from her. “A book? Will I get collaborative credit? You can have the profits. I can get money. In fact I can be your daddy money bags if you need funding but I want credit. I want to be published. If I can’t get credit then you can’t study me. I’ll just leave and this addition to the body count will be yours. So what you say doc, deal?” Joker held out his cuffed hand to shake and confirm her cooperation.[/BCOLOR]
 
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Harleen paid no attention to his mocking movements, but when he finally spoke she had to cover her mouth with a hand to keep him from seeing her smile. She liked him already. Probably more than she needed to at the moment. So she stifled her laugh and put her hands back down professionally, straightening her face and the rest of her body. As for him missing, well, he’d never really come up against Harleen at this point but she left that unspoken for now.

Instead she listened to him ramble on readily, going on about not being her lab rat and wanting collaborative credit in a book should she actually choose to write it. Fact was, if she did a paper on him with his presence then he’d get all the credit he was after in reality, so she really had no problem to agreeing to such terms. Carefully she looked at him, her blue eyes gleaming with amusement, the only sign of her intrigue to show through for the time being.

With a moments pause, she finally took his hand, “You have yourself a deal Mr. Joker. Now, about the batman. What /is/ your infatuation with the man? Is it because he dresses up like you do? I can see how that might be appealing to one such as yourself.” She let go of him and sat back in her chair, tapping her lips thoughtfully as she considered him a moment or two longer.

“Or is the infatuation purely professional? Is the fact that you haven’t been able to kill him yet the reason why you enjoy him so much? I mean really, you’ve tried, and failed, numerous times. At which point he brings you here, and you eventually escape for it to start all over again. Some might say you’re not /really/ trying, but rather toying with the man in black. I wonder if that’s true,” she said.

By this point she was more taunting the man before her. She knew it likely wasn’t wise. The Joker was intelligent beyond measure. In fact it was entirely plausible that he was her level intelligent, if not more so in some ways. Toying with this man might not be the greatest of ideas she ever had, but the only way to get him to reveal more of himself was to try and goad him into it.

So for now, goad she did. “As a matter of fact, I’m pretty sure I’ve seen a porno highlighting the dark knight and his clowny counterpart. I could bring it in some time for a showing if you’d like? Perhaps it will shed some light on your obsession with him,” she teased again, smirking a bit as she watched him carefully.
 
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Her hand was soft yet her grip was firm. Even Joker could appreciate a good handshake. To bad they had taken his buzzers but then she couldn't write about him if she was dead. So maybe it was a good thing.

“The Batman? Now why did you have to go and bring /him/ into the conversation? We were getting along so well. Maybe that buzzer would have been a good thing after all.” Most people didn't even garner the Jokers attention. They were below his radar. Simply another number in his ever increasing body count. The Batman however was at the top of the list of individuals that garnered his attention. If there ever was a love/hate relationship of monumental proportions, this was it.

The Batman, of course, held no love for the Joker whatsoever. The Joker, on the other hand, loved the Bat every bit as much as he hated him. They were Yin/Yang of Gotham City. The Batman was Joker’s favorite play pal but also brought out a rage in him that nobody else could. The Bat was more fun to play with than anyone else the Joker had yet to encounter but he still had a valid reason for hating the Caped Crusader. It wasn’t because the Dark Knight repeatedly put him back in Arkham. The Joker could leave Arkham anytime he liked.

“The Bat just won’t die. I’ve seen him bleed so I know he can die but he just won’t. Have you ever tried to kill someone that just won’t die? They just keep turning up like a bad penny. Batman is that bad penny. It’s frustrating. Everybody else dies when I kill them. They die by the dozens, by the hundreds. Even, dare I say, by the thousands but not him.”

Joker sat back in his chair with a huff. One of the cuffs had come free again allowing him to fold his arms across his chest. Even pouting, the damaged nerves and ligaments in his face continued to pull up the corners of his lips in a maddening grin. “I’m finished for today Mizz Quinzell. Next time I want to talk more about us. He’s a party pooper even when he isn’t here. Now the rest of my day is just ruined. Do you realize how many people will have to die again before I can smile again? Even I can’t answer that so of course you don’t know.”

The Joker turned in his chair to face away from Harleen. “You can leave now.” Joker turned his chin up with another huff to emphasize his refusal to continue their session.
 
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Chuckling softly, Harley watched the Joker go on and on about the batman and how he couldn’t seem to die for him. It was all rather amusing. She’d definitely struck a nerve with the man and smirked like the cat that had eaten the canary as he huffed and crossed his arms disdainfully. “I’m afraid that our time is up for the night anyways Mr. Joker. But I’d like to remind you before I leave that it was you that brought up the Batman first,” she said slyly before closing his file and standing once more. “Perhaps next week I’ll bring you a gift..” she said again, contemplating buying him that porno after all just to be cheeky.

With that she opened the door, “have a good night Mr. Joker, I’ll see you at our next session,” she said quietly before closing it behind her. Once outside she paused a moment to collect herself, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose a moment before straightening and walking back towards her office. She put away all the files she’d taken out for the evening and readied herself to go home. She’d have a week’s worth of other inmates to evaluate before she could work her way around to the Joker again.

There were plenty of well-known inmates at Arkham, all the big name sociopaths that tormented Gotham city on a regular basis, but there were hundreds of other lesser known patients as well that were deranged and unruly that she’d have to cater to while she worked here as well. So she readied her files for the next day and placed them neatly on her desk before picking up her purse and badge and heading back home.

The rest of the week went by rather uneventfully, Harley seeing patients, going to the gym, practicing her gymnastics, taking our her aggressions in the kick boxing ring, her normal day to day activities even if her patients were now in a new place. At least once a day her neighbor would bump into her and tell her to watch it as usual while Harley would humbly apologize on the outside and scream at her on the inside.

Then over the weekend, one of her patients reportedly already attempted suicide in their cell, a cell that just so happened to be right next to the Jokers. Whether it was Harley’s attempts at hard core psychology, or the Joker’s banter, was debatable for sure, but Harley chocked it up to her first potential body count within Arkham, a body count that was dangerously high given her profession.

When the week finally turned around again and she was up for her session for Joker, she brought with her a small gift for the man, wrapped in purple paper with a green bow. This time she waited in the room for him to be brought inside, his file, and his ‘gift’ neatly placed on the table before her with her hands folded calmly in her lap. When the door opened and he was escorted in cuffs inside once again, she smiled at him curtly. “Good evening Mr. Joker. I hope that your week has been well?” When the guard left them alone, she slid the gift across the table towards him. “This is for you. I’m sure you’ll like it.”
 
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Joker turned his face up to the supposedly hidden camera within the room. “I’m ready to go to my room Hugo. Could you have one of the boys bring up my bags? Oh, and double up on the tranqs today. I’m feeling a bit under the whether.” Joker remained in his chair until the orderlies arrived to escort him to his room. Joker had been subjected to tranquilizers to such a degree that the drugs no longer had the desired effect upon him. For the most part, he faked it to keep this tidbit of information to himself.

This time, however, when the orderlies shot him with the tranquilizer dart, from a distance of course, he felt the wave of euphoria wash over him. They had obviously, per his request, doubled up on the dosage today. He didn’t fight the coming blackness that overtook him nor did he fight the half dozen orderlies as they prepared him for transport to his cell.

When he awoke, Joker was already in his cell laid out upon his bunk. His first thought was of his new shrink, Miss Harleen Quinzel. She wasn’t the normal head shrinker by any means. He could see this already. She was quite the eccentric and had piqued his curiosity. That was usually not a good thing to be on the Joker’s radar. He would need to have a look at her file but to do that, he needed to be out of his cell. Never much of a problem for him.

To pass the time until the night shift got settled in and off their guard, Joker behaved in his usual manner. He didn’t want anyone knowing he had plans for the evening. Once it was time he merely slipped his arm through the dinner tray hole and keyed in the code for his door. He had jammed the latch on the cover for the food tray hatch months ago. He had memorized the sounds of the keypad as well and practiced after hours one night. It took him three tries to unlock his door.

By the time morning had come around, Joker was back in his cell with the file of one Harleen Quinzel tucked away tightly in his psychotic mind. He would be ready for her when their session came around in a week. He already had plans for this one brewing in his twisted head. He was excited. Killing was too easy, too cliché. He was going to have much more fun with her. She wanted to get into the mind of the Joker? He would welcome her in with open arms, sort of.

The week went by slowly although he did manage to kill one of the new orderlies. There was always a big turnover of employees at Arkham for several reasons, the Joker rating right up there at the top of the list. They usually didn’t give him the greenhorns but they slipped up and the greenhorn paid the price. So it was with a little new blood on his hands, not physically bloody hands, that Joker sat calmly waiting for his lovely new therapist.

He was actually happy to see her when she walked into the room. He hadn’t even bothered to keep the cuffs on. He thought that she might find it insulting and anyway, they were past that in their relationship. They were well into the next stage of the head games. He smiled charmingly as she greeted him.

“Actually the week was a bit slow and the food was a bit bland. But there was a silver lining. It just made your anticipated arrival so much more sweeter.” Joker turned to the orderly and waved him off like hired help. “Jeeves, you can leave us now.”

He exaggerated his look of shock and gratitude with his hands on his cheeks. “For me?? You shouldn’t have.” Joker knew that the gift was not being given with good intentions but rather to get under his skin. He was pretty sure it was the porno with actors portraying him and Bats. He was ready for it.

He opened the package and his smile never wavered. “I really mean it, you shouldn’t have. I’ve already seen it. The acting was terrible and they lacked imagination. I would have much preferred the one with me and Batgirl. You know, the one where I severed her spine and raped her repeatedly. It was before I knew Miss Gordon was the Batgirl but still a classic nonetheless. Though I would have thought her better in the sack. I guess not being able to use her legs could have been a factor.”
 
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“Oh! So you missed me then did you? I must say I’ve been looking forward to our next session as well Mr. Joker,” she started to say as he exaggerated his gratitude for her gift and began to open it. She could almost hear the sneer in his voice as he looked at the video and then began talking again.

“Oh I don’t know Mr. Joker. I mean the way the Batbeast really stuck it to the would be Joker was quite impressive if I do say so myself,” she taunted again, neatly crossing a leg over her other, her pencil skirt making a soft sound as she moved the tight fabric. “I mean, I did have a good laugh at it after all. If anything that must count for something hmm? A bit of hilarity in watching oneself being pegged from behind?”

Watching him closely she nodded though as he spoke of Barbara Gordon. “Yes, I recall reading about that in your file. Ms. Gordon never really recovered from that incident now did she?” she asked him, quirking a brow. “I see she didn’t make it to your list of death counts though. I wonder why that is? I’m sure it had something now to do with discovering that she was batgirl. Possibly a way to torment the mighty hero that you seem to have so… much… trouble with.”

Harleen had no doubts that her taunting was in no way affecting the Joker. By this point it was just playful banter between the two that she was just having entirely too much fun to let up on. “So tell me Mr. Joker. Last week we seemed to hit a sore spot with regards to the Dark Knight. So if you could have your way this week, what pray-tell, would you like to discuss? After all, in order to get into the mind of Gotham’s greatest criminal I suppose I need to hear your version of things now don’t I?”
 
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Of course she brings up the Dark Knight. They all bring up the Dark Knight. Joker was actually disappointed with himself for letting himself become unhinged the week prior just from the mention of him. People, therapists included, believed him to be an out of control, raving lunatic with no grip on reality whatsoever. This couldn’t be further from the truth. Of course his sense of humor could be a bit warped at times but the Joker was a calculating beast. He was very capable of creating intricate, long term plans and seeing them through. He was not all impulse as people were led to believe but, he did like living in the moment. So there was that.

“Well on the subject of Miss Gordon, she was never the target. She was just a means to an end. Raping her was sort of a spontaneous thing, not at all planned.” Joker slid his chair back so that she could watch him rub his crotch. “She was laying there all helpless and bleeding. Kind of hard to resist that temptation Doc.” Joker rolled his eyes upwards and made exaggerated dreamy noises ending with a deep sigh before continuing.

“And then there is you Harleen. You like to push buttons. You’re a bad girl.” Joker hopped up from the chair and landed sitting cross legged on the table in a single motion but made no moves towards the pretty therapist. “To begin with, everybody knows the Bats is way to uptight to fuck anything.” Joker lowered his voice and covered his mouth with his hand as if telling a secret. “Fun is the Bats’ kryptonite. That porno is just not realistic at all.” He sat back up and his voice returned to normal. “You know, the laws of physics and all. Literally impossible. You’re going to have to do better than that.”

A voice broke in over the intercom. It was the voice of Hugo Strange. Normally, with other patients, orderlies would have been sent in as soon as the patient left the chair. The Joker was never a normal situation. Someone always dies when the Joker is threatened. “Joker, would you mind returning to your seat?”

“Hugo, you old cock blocker you, would you mind not interfering with me and my date? That is beyond rude.”

“I would be forced to not serve your dessert with your evening meal if you cannot cede to my request.”

There was a moment of silence while Joker pondered his choices. “You would really deny a man his Zinger Hugo? You sir are a cruel man. I reckon you leave me no choice.”

In an instant, Joker was standing on the table with a twitch in his eye and a maddening smile. Then in the next instant, he dropped back down into his chair. He slumped as if the air had been drained from him. “I’ll just have to be embarrassed in front of my date. I’ll not forget this Hugo.” Joker sat back up in his chair as his attention was turned once again to Miss Quinzel.

“I really don’t like that guy, but let’s not let him mess up our fun.” He leaned forward crossing his fingers with his elbows on the table. He rested his chin atop his crossed fingers and made googly eyes at the woman across from him. “So I get to pick the subject today. Hmm. I want to talk about you. You are building a pretty impressive body count yourself for a therapist. Nowhere in my league but not bad considering they were all suicides. Matter of fact you can add one more to the list from this past week.” Joker didn’t take credit for helping that one along a bit.
 
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When Professor Strange’s voice beeped over the intercom Harleen’s demeanor suddenly changed. She should have known he’d be listening in, watching her work, but she wasn’t used to having people do that. No, she did her best work alone, in the room privately. How she treated her patients was a far cry from how she held herself in front of her peers and outside.

Her cheeks burned as she blushed a bit, a hand suddenly reaching to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear nervously. “I.. I mean to say.. I only mention the batman because he seems to be your most certain foe here in Gotham. I’m sure you’ve heard all of that before though Mr. Joker,” she said rather sweetly.

Her blush darkened as the Joker mentioned her own death count, a death count she was secretly proud of, one less weakness in the world after all. But she couldn’t let him, or professor Strange know that now could she. “I don’t mean for anyone to hurt themselves. My therapy seems to target a person’s guilt though. They feel remorse for the things they do and choose to end themselves rather than to hurt anyone else ever again. I’m very sorry for those losses. But it’s not a body count that I’m proud of to say the least. If I could, I’d have mentioned how their own lives were just as important as anyone else’s that they’ve hurt.”

She glanced nervously at her watch, then glanced back at the Joker, choosing to end their session a few minutes early this time around herself. “I’m afraid though that our time is up Mr. Joker." Her stomach was tight and in knots when she stood up from the table and she pushed her chair neatly back into place. “I’ll see you again next week Mr. Joker. Do try not to kill anyone else before I get here would you please?”

With that she took his file and left him in the room, and after stopping at her office she went immediately to Hugo’s office, tapping lightly at the door. “Enter,” came the calm and honey coated voice from the other side, and she opened the door and stepped inside. “Ahem, professor Strange?” she started to say, clearing her throat a moment before hand. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to stop listening in and watching me with my patients.”

“Oh? And why is that Ms. Quinzel?”

“I cannot successfully treat my patients in the way I need if I know that I’m being monitored. It… flusters me. And I cannot be flustered! Especially not here in Arkham. If you would please not do that anymore, it would be greatly appreciated.”

“Ms. Quinzel, I monitor aaaalll of my patients therapy,” Hugo drawled softly, “but if you must have the inclination of no longer being watched, I’ll see what I can do. We do have… one room that isn’t complete with intercoms and cameras. But I cannot account for your safety if you choose to use such a room.”

Herleen almost snapped back at him for that, but she cleared her throat again and looked down at her hands a moment before nodding her head. “I understand. I’m fully capable of taking care of myself Professor Strange. Please allow me to treat my patients as I need to.”

The professor nodded and clasped his hands together at his desk. “As you wish Ms. Quinzel. You shall have your new room tomorrow.”
 
The change in Miss Harleen ’s demeanor had not escaped the notice of the razor sharp mind of the Joker. In fact, not much escaped the attention of the Joker even on a bad day. He also had no problem connecting her sudden change in demeanor to his exchange with their voyeuristic overseer, Professor Hugo Strange. This was quite an interesting turn of events. It seems that his jailers, his oppressors, we're not playing by the rules with each other. This was certainly a wonderful discovery by the Joker. He was not surprised in the least bit that ole Hugo might be dealing off the bottom of the desk with his staff but to actually be given a morsel to chew on was like finding the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

Before Joker could actually put his new bit of ammo to good use, she called for their session to come to an end. Joker look at his wrist as if checking the time on a non-existent watch. He looked back up towards Harleen pouting like a child who couldn’t get their way. “But that's not fair. I’ll be looking to get my 9 minutes and 43 seconds back in our next session Mizzen Quinzel. I’ll not be cheated of my therapy time. It's important to my progress and eventual release. And I really miss bacon cheese burgers and they don’t serve them here.” It seemed that Harleen was in quite a rush to leave the room. She was in so much of a rush that she did not even reply to Jokers comment before leaving.

Moments later two ape looking orderlies entered the room to escort Joker back to his cell. “I have some serious issues with the service here. I want a gawd damn bacon cheeseburger and I'm not playing around here.” Joker sat in the chair and folded his arms across his chest.

“C'mon Joker. Don't make us have to get the chokers and the Tasers. You know we’ll do it.” Joker tightened his arms and turned his face away from them in a refusal to cede to their wishes. He smiled on the inside hoping that they would get their toys to bring him under control. They usually did the trans but these two bruisers were exceptionally sadistic. They would not be missed by the residents. Joker turned his chair to face the back wall with his back to them. One of the orderlies left while the other closed the door and waited just outside. It was only a matter of a few minutes when the ape-like orderly returned with a choker and Taser.

The Taser was actually a cattle prod with enough juice to take down a very large man with little effort. The choker was a cord run through a pole and looped on the end much like you may see a dog catcher use. Joker was smiling inwardly when he heard the door open again. They had failed to notice the pencil that Joker had slipped from his sleeve.

Joker moved when the shadow of the choker appeared in his lap. The Jokers speed and craftiness were often underestimated by pretty much everyone save those who had fought him like Batman and his crew of Bat-Brats. Before the orderly had realized that Joker was no longer in the chair, he had 3 inches of no. 2 pencil lodged in his brain via his eye socket.

The second orderly hesitated before acting. He lunged clumsily at Joker with the cattle prod and soon found himself face down and weaponless. The next thing he felt was a heel crash down on his spine then everything turned white as his nerve endings were set ablaze, then darkness.

When security arrived Joker had the cattle prod jammed into the ear of the orderly and it had been there since the initial confrontation. The end had gotten hot enough so that cooking flesh could be smelled in the room. Joker was singing ‘My Way’ in his best Frank Sinatra impression. They shot enough trans in him to take down a full grown gorilla.

Joker killed two more orderlies that week out of the half dozen who came in his cell to rough him up. Three more were put in traction and the last was allowed to escape alive and unharmed if he sang happy birthday like Marilyn Monroe complete with blowing a kiss. He was made to do so repeatedly until backup arrived and Joker surrendered without further incident. Professor Strange thought it best to take advantage of the passive surrender and Joker was escorted peacefully to a newly constructed cell for extreme escape risks. Strange had the notion that Joker was building up to another escape. He may be right.

The next week, Strange had considered postponing Jokers session with his new therapist but she seemed to be the only one that wasn't in danger of being killed by Joker. He felt it worth the risk to test his theory. The fact that he was escorted to a new room didn’t escape the Jokers attention. In fact, he knew the room in mention to be referred to as the Incognito Suite by the patients. Supposedly no cameras or audio. Joker didn't believe that for a second even though it confirmed it on the blueprints of the asylum. He decided if they tried to rough him up in here that he wouldn't spend another night here.
 
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The rest of the week went relatively smooth for Harleen, though she was hesitant to still revert back to her normal method of therapy. She’d heard the rumors of the ‘incognito suite’ both the positive and the negative. Some said it was a room for staff to reportedly rough up the inmates without prying eyes and ears. Other said it was a farce and that the room was still very much watched. Harleen wasn’t certain of the truth to any of those claims. So her therapy was soft, sweet, gentle, compared to her normal no fuss business as usual.

As a result there were no incidents of suicide that happened that week. And when the weekend came along Harleen took her aggressions out on her workouts and gymnastics as per usual, though she was much more adamant about it this weekend than most others.

Harleen was no idiot though. She was sure the Joker had seen her change before and she had cursed herself for it when she had gotten home. There was no telling what manner of trickery he might try to employ in his favor as a result. She even considered taking a weapon in the room with her just in case it was true that there were no cameras and audio. Her self-defense classes would help to ensure her safety, but a weapon would only aid in that matter as well. Or…. Or it could ensure a means for the Joker to kill her or have his way with her instead.

For the rest of the week she considered what to do in this case. And ultimately, she decided to sans the weapon in favor of her physical skills instead.

When the Joker was placed in the new room, she fully expected him to be free of his cuffs when she entered it, that same striking grin on his face as per usual. Entering the room she held his file with the newest additions of paperwork including the numerous guards he’d killed in that week. There were several it seemed. Walking over to the table where Joker sat she set the file down and sat across from him ignoring him for now, as if she were deep in thought.

“I see you didn’t take my advice into account Mr. Joker. Four guards killed, three more injured, and one that is now obtaining serious psychological evaluations for what you did to him. I mean really, Happy Birthday? I’m sure he did little justice to the late Norma Jean. You seem intent on staying here in Arkham, rather than taking our therapy seriously and ushering yourself into any kind of rehabilitation. So tell me Mr. Joker, why do you think you do these things? I’m sure it’s not just for fun. I’ve seen your file. You’re a very calculating individual Mr. Joker. I’m positive there is a method to your madness.”
 
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The door opened and in walked his new best friend, his only friend at the moment actually. He couldn’t hardly count the endless stream of forgettables that he has hired as henchmen over the years. At as for as friends go, she was a looker. Of course she could use a makeover but the potential was definitely there. That was surely something worth considering. Although there was a benefit to ugly friends, he would always be the best looker in the group but then that has never been a problem for him. He has never been known to get the least attention in a crowd. Having beautiful friends also had its benefits especially if there was a chance he would be seeing them naked. He set his standards high when it came to naked friends.

Her voice pulled him out from inside his head where he had a very distinct visualization of Harleen quite naked with her makeover already in place. “Excuse me? Oh yes advice. I was never one for advice and after all, it was self defense.” Now that he was really looking at her in the here and now and not in the imaginary world created for them in in head, something was different about her. His eyes narrowed as he inspected her, scrutinizing her entire being. Then he had it.

“Something happened to you. Something is different. You’ve become meek.” He leaned across the table looking into her eyes then looked around the room. He then remembered the sudden change when she realized that she was being watched in the other room. He fell back into his chair laughing hysterically. “HOOOHOOOHAAAHAAA!! Now that’s a hoot and holler worthy tidbit right there.”

Joker leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head. The cuff that had been on his wrists a moment before now lay on the table in front of him. “Not much of an exhibitionist are we? Well I am, I’m more referring to you. Worried that Hugo the pervo might see you being naughty? I noticed no new additions to your body count this week.”

“Better get on the ball Harley-Pooh or old Joker here is gonna leave you in the dust.” He kicked his bare feet up on the table while he leaned a bit further back in the chair. “I like you so I’m gonna do you a solid. I won’t kill anybody until Wednesday at noon. That’ll give you a few days to get caught up. You won’t even owe me nuthin. It’ll be a freebee.”
 
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Harleen narrowed her eyes at the man and crossed her arms across her breasts. “I prefer, Mr. Joker, complete anonymity with my patients. I can’t very well give them the best of myself if I have prying eyes and ears in my sessions. After all, remorse and guilt are key components in my therapy methods. If someone’s watching, I cannot make my patient feel badly now can I?” she said to him matter of factly.

“But I don’t think that’s going to be an issue for you now is it? I mean you don’t feel bad for any of the things you do. There’s always some reason, some justification as to why you do the things you do. Except that society doesn’t normally follow suit in your manner of justifications,” she went on.

“However Mr. Joker, that’s enough about me. This session after all is supposed to be about you. So why don’t you tell me more about yourself instead? What do you think is the reason for your delusions? What makes you… tick? Were you traumatized as a child? Did your mother slap you around a bit? Or perhaps it was your father hmm?”

Harleen leaned forward in her chair to look Joker dead in the eyes. “I mean, I can’t very well write that book and give you credit if you don’t give me anything to work with. So tell me. Why are you so intent on antagonizing Gotham?”
 
“Well aren’t you the little spitfire?” She would do just fine, with a few adjustments of course but then Joker prided himself at being somewhat adept with adjustments. “Just so you know, unless you take…” Joker paused for dramatic purposes and lowered his voice to almost a whisper for the same reasons. “......... precautions, there are always eyes on you here. You always need to have a Joker tucked in your sleeve if you want to play here doc.” She was going through a by the book therapy session with him because Hugo was being a pervy pompous ass. This just would not do. How did she ever expect to make progress with him if she were forced to utilize such transparent methods. He could play along but then Hugo is a slick one and wouldn’t fall for that.

Oh well, we’ll just shoot from the hip and see what happens. “Delusions?? You believe that I’m delusional? You been reading into my file too much. Don’t believe everything you read Harley. I can call you Harley, right? We’re becoming such friends now. Do you believe any of those dullards got into my head? Then how could my files be accurate? What’s in there is what I want to be in there.” He sat back in his chair and raised his voice to an almost booming level. He knew they had turned up the audio to hear what he was whispering to the lovely Dr. Quinzel. He was right too. One of Joker’s talents that came to him like an instinct was knowing what people would do next. Then of course, some people were just predictable, like the monkeys in the box.

“AS FOR OLE MOMMY DEAREST AND PA, THEY WEREN’T AROUND TO HAVE ANY EFFECT ON ME.” He pictured them in the surveillance room, which he referred to as the box, with the volume turned up to high and holding their now sore and ringing ears. He couldn’t help but fall into a fit of laughter that lasted for a bit over a full minute before dying down gradually. Joker held his ribs in a mocking display of laughing pains. “Wooooo….ell, there was that one time but we won't get into that here. Perhaps after my release we can set up an appointment for the good stuff. I’m sure you don’t want Hugo getting all the good stuff for his book. Just so you know, Hugo is /not/ a sharer.”
 
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“Somehow I doubt that you’ll be getting released any time soon Mr. Joker. Not with all the killing you’ve been doing while in here. Though I wouldn’t put it past you to eventually escape. Tell me Mr. Joker. What then? What are your plans after you leave here? More madness and mayhem?” she asked him, her arms still crossed as she leaned back in her chair.

He’d piqued her interest though at the mention of Professor Strange’s book. “And how do you know that Professor Strange is writing a book? In all honesty he doesn’t really seem the sort to be bothered with publications,” she retorted, though she couldn’t help but to think back on the research she had done on the man of Arkham and his /many/ publications that he did seem to have in the field of psychology.

Before Joker could answer her though the door opened and a guard ushered himself inside clearing his throat. “Doctor Quinzel, the Joker needs his medications and dinner is about to be served..” he started to say as Harleen looked at her watch. For once they’d actually gone over their scheduled time, by about 30 minutes in fact. Harleen sighed in resignation and nodded at the man. “Very well. It seems Mr. Joker that our time is up. I’ll see you again next week.” And with that Harleen stood from her chair and took her files and notes, leaving the room.

The rest of the week still went relatively smoothly for her. Still no new accounts of attempted suicides which is truth troubled Ms. Quinzel as she felt she was not doing her job any justice for the moment. Her mind was too preoccupied with the potential that she was still being watched and listened in on rather than being able to fully commit her energy and focus to her patients.

When Saturday came she did her regular gym time, letting out all her frustrations on her exercises and gymnastics. Only when she got home did her stomach drop with dread as she got to her door and found it to be opened a crack. Someone either had been, or still was inside. Carefully she opened the door the rest of the way, glancing inside the dark apartment before pulling a heavy, glass, decorative globe from the shelf that lay just inside the door. One step, and then another, and then a third into the room, eyes wide as they strained to see in the darkness, her feet barely making a sound as she crept into her living room.

Then suddenly she heard the door behind her shut, and before she had a chance to spin around to look at who was there, hands grabbed her from behind, her own shooting back with that globe to connect with whomever had held her on the head with a loud crack. “Ow you bitch!” came the cry after, the man letting go only for another set of hands to grab at her, wrenching her arm back until she cried out and released the decoration for it to fall onto the floor.
 
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Punch and Judy weren’t the brightest minions on the block but they had remained loyal to Joker through several of his stints in Arkham. They also did what they were told without any sense of morality to cloud their obedience. They also easily made up for their lack of intellect with sheer brute strength. So it was that when it was requested of them to pay the beautiful Dr. Quinzel a visit, they done so without hesitation. They were informed to make their visit memorable but not to maim or kill the good doctor. They were a bit disappointed that they would be unable to kill her but a job is a job. It was with these instructions in mind that they waited in Harleen Quinzel’s apartment until she returned.

They had intended to grab her quickly, as soon as she entered, but they had been waiting there for a long time. They decided that they would have plenty time to raid the kitchen but it hadn’t occurred to them to leave one of the pair watching the door. It was this slight tactical error that allowed the darling Dr. Quinzel to arm herself. “You shouldna aughtta hit punch like that. He gits reel mad when he gets hit.” Judy had Harleen’s arm wrenched up painfully behind her back while he had his other arm bent tightly under the woman’s chin. With Judy’s mass and superior strength, there was little chance of the woman squirming free or defending herself from the ire of the other assailant.

It was because of her rather entangled predicament that Punch was able to land a melon sized fist into the gut of Harleen. “You bitch! That hurt.”

Judy spoke up after the angered outburst of his partner in crime. “You should not aughtta cuss like that punch. Joker always says to use our words. Cussing is for ignornt people.”

“You’re right Judy. I was mad cause she hit me in the head. Well bring her to the room and lets get the party started.” Judy easily manhandled the woman who was a third his size into the bedroom and tossed Harleen hard to the floor. It was hard enough that it could have very well knocked her breath from her for an instant or so. “You shoulda held her till I got her nekked Judy. Now she’s gonna put up a fight.”

“She’s a teeny thing Punch. How much fight ya think she could got in her?”
 
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Her apartment was still dark so she couldn’t see the two large and burly men that had their grips on her. The one behind her still wrenched her arm painfully back behind her, and she tried to struggle but the more she did the harder he pulled her arm back and up until she could feel it threatening to pop out of socket. Harley cried out painfully, and tried to kick back behind her, aiming for the man’s nuts, but not quite in a position to reach very well.

He suddenly grabbed her by her hair and yanked her head back hard, another sharp cry escaping her as he practically lifted her off her feet by her hair and wrenched up arm and pushed her toward her bedroom. As hard as she tried to resist he easily moved her forward, the other kicking open her door fully before they threw her onto the bed. Still in severe amounts of pain she pulled her injured arm in front of her to cradle it a bit and shuffled herself further up onto the bed to try and maintain some distance between them, reaching her nightstand to grab anything she could with her good hand to again use as a weapon.

Harley threw her alarm clock in their direction, hearing the object connect with one of the men before clattering to the floor. “Now whatcha goin’ go and do that for?” one of them said as they both lunged at her and grabbed her again. They pulled her down to the foot of the bed as she flailed and clawed at them desperately. One of them punched her in the gut, and the other backhanded her hard across the face, blood tasting in her mouth as she cried out and grew dizzy from the impact.

As she sobbed and fought they tore at her clothing, tearing her tanktop easily down the center before she felt the cool metallic steel of a blade as it was pressed against her skin and under her sports bra, cutting it easily off, nicking her skin in the process. “Please! P-please don’t do this! I.. I can pay you! Whatever you want! I can give it to you.. Just don’t do this!” she sobbed at them, trying to pull her ripped and cut clothing across her front to hide her breasts from their touch and view.

The blade then cut into her yoga pants and their meaty hands tugged and pulled and ripped them from her body, doing the same to the pieces of fabric still left on her upper body before reaching to grope at her now naked flesh. They touched and prodded into her, thick sausage like fingers dipping into her sex as they chuckled dumbly and mentioned about how much fun they were going to have. “This one gone be a good one I can tell. She’s tight as a vice and already wet,” they teased and tormented her while pinching and squeezing her breasts and nipples tightly.

She heard the telltale sounds of pants and belt being unfastened and dropped down before they punched and backhanded her again into compliance and lifted her off the bed to turn her around. She could feel one of their cocks pressing in at her sex, dipping just a bit in forcibly before shifting and moving to her puckering anus instead. “No no no” she cried out, desperately pulling away and trying to clench herself tightly shut.

But before she could react anymore he shoved himself inside of her dry, tearing into her rectum with his fleshy cock, the pain so excruciating that she nearly passed out from it. As he jammed himself into her and began fucking her relentlessly, the ripping pain eventually gave way to utter numbness as the blood began to slicken his way in the steady thrumming of movements began to turn into a deadened sensation. After a few moments of animalistic grunting and the pummeling of her ass, the man behind her suddenly lifted her up and the other man who’d been rubbing himself erect moved into the front of her.

He lifted her by the legs as the other pulled her head back again by her hair and in an instant he was wedging himself into her snatch to fuck her at the same time. Tears streamed her face, leaking from her eyes, one of which was starting to swell shut from the backhands they’d given her. “P-please..” she begged them weakly, though her pleading seemed to fall on deaf ears as the took turns ramming themselves inside of her mercilessly, her nails digging into their arms as they gripped her painfully tight.
 
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Joker sat in his cell on the bunk in his cell with his back to the cell door. He had a small laptop on the matters in front of him. He usually kept it hid behind some loose blocks in the wall under his bunk. The camera in his room was broken for the third time this week. It would probably take another day for maintenance to repair or replace it. Broken cell cameras were a common occurrence in Arkham to the point that many were never fixed anymore.

The image on the laptop showed two massive males raping a petite young blonde woman. The two brutes were not very bright but they knew how to set up a wireless camera and turn it on. Joker had watched them from the point where they had entered the bedroom. His cock was hard and in his hand by the time they had hit her the first time. While he masturbated to the scene in front of him, he directed the action through the tiny buds in the left ear of both males.

It had been his idea to rape her ass first. It had been by his direction that they were now both fucking her simultaneously while he stroked his own cock. The streaming video on the laptop was very vivid, so much to the point that he could see the blood running down the inside of her thighs from her torn rectum. Joker was laughing aloud and jerking off. His laughter gained the attention of one of the patrolling guards who peered through the tiny opening in the door. The laptop was easily hidden by Joker’s body. “Joker what the hell you laughing about in there??” The guard had spoken before his mind had registered what was happening.

Joker spun around quickly on the bed to face him. The guard never saw the laptop with his gaze captured by the big pale cock in Joker’s hand. The Insane One was still stroking his cock as he spoke to the guard. “Don’t be a wallflower, Sikes. Get in here and help. There’s plenty for you and me.” The guard named Sikes literally leaped back from the opening in the door trying to forget what he had witnessed. “GOD DAMMIT JOKER!! You could warn a guy! Just keep the noise down! You’re disturbing the other inmates!”

Joker laughed louder from inside his cell. Joker turned back around and continued watching the scene play out on the laptop in front of him. He yelled aloud to the guard to assure that he would leave the area. “HOW MANY LICKS SIKES?? HOW MANY LICKS?? HOOAHAHAHAHA!!!”

He lowered his voice and spoke into the built-in mic of his own earbud. “Make her eat it shitty and bloody Punch. Make her clean it real good.” Joker could hardly wait until their next little conference. He couldn’t wait to see the broken look in her eyes. He knew she would come again. He made sure that they would slip up and mention his name and their names. Punch and Judy were known associates of his so there would be no hiding the connection. The trick was not to hide the connection. It was all playing out perfectly and Joker got to watch a hell of a show as a bonus.

In a dark apartment miles away a young woman is being broken and battered by two heartless behemoths. There is no right or wrong in their minds, only obedience. Too bad for the young woman that they weren’t obeying her. The two golem looking giants continued to mercilessly rape and sodomize the young woman with cocks that were a testament to their massive frames. She had tried to fight but her attempts had amounted to nothing but endeavors in futility. If things weren’t bad enough, a little bird had filled their ears with a new idea.

Punch pulled free from the young woman’s battered asshole. His filthy, bloody cock displayed the extent of her injuries along its length. “Lay her down and hold her still Judy.” Working in tandem as they had for as long as they could remember, the second brute known as Judy pulled the woman off his length long enough to throw her down onto her back on the bed. Her respite was short lived as Judy pushed her legs up into her chest and took his turn with her shredded asshole. Having buried himself inside her with a single thrust, he released her legs and wrapped a meaty paw around her throat.

His thrusts pushed her up the bed until her head hung off the bed and then he squeezed tightly cutting off her air. Punch stood at the side of the bed with his huge dirty cock waiting for the moment that her mouth would open to draw breath. “Open widey. Punch has a big surprise for you.” Judy laughed while he continued to viciously pound her ass. The squelching sounds of his repeated forced entry into her shredded rectum may have been sickening for some onlookers but the voyeuristic director of this scene was beside himself with glee.

“Punch her in the gut Judy.” Joker continued to give the massive duo instructions to further torture both the woman’s body and her humility.

While still maintaining his grip on her throat and his depth in her ass, Judy balled up a fist the size of a Boston Butt rump roast and punch her hard in the gut forcing out whatever air she may have had left inside her. Judy allowed a slight release in pressure around her neck. She acted in the only way she could. Her mouth open wide to pull in the precious air her body craved. What she got was a huge cock still filthy from destroying her ass. He mouth was suddenly filled with a fleshy slab of meat that was forcing its way into her throat.
 
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