Gotham Girls


All characters appearing in the following narrative are fictional. Any resemblance to any real persons - either living or deceased - is entirely coincidental on the part of the Author. Unless otherwise noted all persons appearing in the narrative are written as being of the majority age of eighteen years owing to depictions of graphic sexual activity contained throughout the body of this work.


The quartet of guards shifted nervously from foot to foot. More than a few hands drifted toward their holstered side arms. The Warden was on hand as the gurney rolled into view and even he looked a little less than comfortable with the entire situation. Good, thought The Joker as he shifted in the confining material of his straitjacket. It was always good to see that the rabble remembered their place in the cosmic joke that was life. The only person missing from this latest session appeared to be his nemesis; the Batman! The Warden appeared to be speaking with the newest intern on staff here at Arkham Asylum. Cute little thing too, he thought. All graceful curves and long limbs. A girl like that could certainly put the wind back in a man's sail.

"Hey Doc, how's tricks?" He crowed as the gurney rolled to a stop in front of the growing crowd. "If you want to check my temperature, I would be too happy to drop my pants?" The Joker dissolved into fits of hysterical laughter at the discomfort on the faces of the assembled guards and the Warden. But even through the stream of tears running down his cheeks he might have sworn that he saw the young doctor blush.

"Doctor Quinzel, this really is quite irregular! Only our most highly placed therapists have access to this patient. There might be no arguing your evident genius concerning abhorrent psychologies, but asking that we transfer the Joker into your care when you lack actual experience is unheard of!" The Warden blustered and gestured toward the gurney and the assembled asylum guards. "He is simply too unpredictable."

"Warden Sharp, I am well acquainted with the subject's history - having read his extensive file, but I think that I am more than prepared to conduct an interview with this subject. Maybe my methods will finally make some headway where every other one of your 'highly placed therapists' has failed so abysmally."

The Joker could definitely appreciate the brass of this woman! She had cowed ol' Warden Sharp into not only allowing her to interview him, but had insisted that her techniques required that all the recording equipment be shut off for the duration of their sessions. Once the guards had wheeled in the gurney she had made them loosen his restraints and allow him to recline on the patient's couch as well. Most of the staff went to great lengths to avoid having anything to do with him. To say nothing about seeing to some measure of his comfort while they were 'chatting'. She had not gone so far as to insist that his straitjacket be removed, but not being tied down to that damn gurney was a marked improvement. So far she had covered all of the basics of trying to worm her way into his head, but The Joker was not one for giving up the goods just for the asking! At least from where he was stretched out he could turn his head and appreciate the gentle swell of her breasts and, when she sat down, he had an excellent shot right up her skirt!

Doctor Quinzel rubbed her eyes and tried not to yawn with her own mounting frustrations! The Joker was proving a very tough nut to crack. Having read all material that had been accumulated she had come into this interview completely prepared for the exact run around that she was getting now. Answering questions with questions. Weaving an intricate tapestry of lies to disguise the truth. Turning all of her carefully aimed probes about his criminal enterprises into tirades against the Batman. . . It had long been hypothesized that the Joker was not insane at all. Merely so hyper-aware of his own sanity that he sought attention by reinventing himself almost on a daily basis and then lashing out at society. He really was the most fascinating specimen she had interviewed thus far. Let the other super-criminals, so called, wallow in their megalomania and delusions of grandeur, or their feelings of persecution. The Joker was going to make her reputation and career IF she could just work past his defenses and get him to open up to her. At the very least he could try to quit looking up her skirt and shamelessly ogling her tits!

She was persistent. The Joker had to give her at least that much credit. The clock on the wall was well into the third straight hour of this 'session' and the doc kept hitting him with the same string of questions in an attempt to break him down. He almost felt sorry for her, really. Warden Sharp should have warned her about just this sort of thing. Hell, he had killed therapists for being this damn persistent in the past. If he was not enjoying watching her squirm - and the fact that she looked good - he might have already terminated the interview. As it was, The Joker was fairly certain that his stonewalling her was working her into a lather in more ways than one. His keen senses already detected the thinnest sheen of sweat on her chest and, if he was not mistaken, the slightest hint of sexual musk had also crept into the confines of the small room!

Harleen loosened the collar of her shirt and cursed the lack of air conditioning in the lowest levels of the asylum! It made these secure interview rooms hotter than the pits of hell. She had already soaked through her bra and under shirt. To say nothing of the swamp that her panties had turned into! She could smell herself in the thick air of the room and knew that the Joker could as well! The text book methods were not getting her anywhere. Perhaps it was time to try something a little more - extreme? Doctor Quinzel had not had a reaction this strong with any of her other interviews! Why should time in a secure room with an infamous mass murderer make her so damned horny? At the very least the feed from the cameras was still shut off so what she was about to do would never be brought to the attention of the warden. And if it got the patient to open up to her, then wasn't it worth it?

The Joker started as the doctor rolled her chair over to the side of the couch. None of the staff ever got this close to him. Sure. His straitjacket was secure so his arms could not move, and his ankles were restrained as well, but he went through more cavity searches than a proctologist's office on a regular basis. Just what the hell did she think she was doing? One small hand reached over and rubbed over the bulge in the front of his asylum issued jumpsuit! The physical reaction was immediate, after all, he was a patient in an insane asylum, not a monk. The heavy fabric began to stir at first and then to tent as she found the contours of him and began to focus her attentions on all the right parts!

"Careful Doc, you're going to make me blush!" The Joker said. Then his head fell back on the couch and a groan slipped from between his lips.

Harleen Quinzel smiled at the forced attempt at humor and then returned her focus to what her hands were doing. The patient's eyes rolled back in his skull and, if you can believe it, that rictus of macabre mirth got even wider! The Joker's breathing became heavier and even Harleen was getting more into it with each deft stroke and caress. With one hand on the swelling bulge she quickly slipped the other under her own suit skirt and began rubbing those fingers over her own sweltering snatch! God she was wet! Seeing that her attentions toward The Joker had gone as far as they could in the present circumstances she quickly pulled at the Velcro closures at the crotch of his jumpsuit. The lack of buttons or zippers made this so much easier, she thought. Her hand then worked inside the opening until it wrapped around the, cotton wrapped, shaft of his cock! Damn. Prison issued underwear! It was nearly another whole minute before she had worked around the barrier of the confining material until he rose through the split in the front of his pants.

God! Even his penis had been bleached bone-white by that unfortunate chemical bath! The few curls of pubic hair that she could see were - no surprise given the other revelation - acid green. Her hand made a simple O' pattern with her first two fingers and her thumb. Using the same textbook 'sausage grip' she had been using with hand jobs since junior high school Harleen Quinzel focused her attention between the hard cock in her one hand and the dew soaked crotch of her own steaming panties with the other. The thin cotton crotch of which had already been thrust aside so that she could more easily slide two fingers into her weeping slit whilst pressing the ball of her thumb over the swollen knob that was her own clitoris!

"Oh Shit!" Doctor Quinzel gasped at the intrusion.

The Joker said nothing. Getting even a hand job in a regular penitentiary was not easy. Scoring one when you were trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey in the local lunatic asylum had to count toward something! He only enjoyed the sensations of her warm, soft, hand on his shaft as she pumped him in even strokes trying to get him off. If this was going to be the new therapy technique from now on then he could see more reasons to stay locked up than in trying to escape again! The Joker could begin to feel the first twinge of an orgasm building in his balls as the Doc continued working him with one hand, while with the other she was doing the same to herself.

It wasn't enough! His dick had twitched a couple of times in her hand but Harleen knew that she was not going to get the answers she wanted out of him with the way things were presently going. Sure, she was aware of his balls tightening up but her efforts were not getting the payoff she had been hoping for. Her other fingers were already buried inside of her to the second knuckle and she was bucking her hips in order to get friction against her clitoris, these were things she could continue doing without much thought going into them. After all, she had been getting herself off since the sixth grade! Already at the bedside of The Joker, Doctor Quinzel simply bent at the waist and swallowed his cock in one fluid motion!

Holy Shit! The Joker watched as his analyst swallowed all of him down to the opening in his jumpsuit! Her warm mouth and tight lips expertly mirrored a pussy and the Clown Prince of Crime moaned his pleasure as her head began to bob gently over his crotch and the tightness of her lips increased around his shaft. The hand that had been stroking him just a moment before slipped into his suit and began gently rolling his balls around and tugging on them in an honest effort to get him off!

"Mm mph. . .Mm mph. . . .Mm mph!" Came the steady sounds as Doctor Harleen Quinzel continued to nurse his, now feverish, tool like a new born babe at the tit!

The steady pressure and evident skills she was displaying made the swimming sensation of boiling cum in his balls all the more obvious. Then there was the smell of pussy in the air as well! The Joker turned his head and got a clear view of her little blond box as she did her own dance on two fingers and a thumb! Given his freedom at this moment it would have been a real challenge to decide to kill her, or just fuck her damn brains out! Her mouth never quit moving and neither did either of her two hands. Before the Joker could enjoy anymore visuals of burying his straining cock in her sweet cunt, while strangling her, his body carried him over the edge and he gasped as his orgasm ripped through him!

About damn time! Thought Harleen as she felt the first twitches of the Joker's cock in her mouth right before he shot his first load of cum against the back of her throat and she swallowed out of habit. She knew that he had been 'inside' for several months but the length and veracity of his orgasm would have made any woman think that he was not taking care of his own business once he was secure in his cell at night. The two fingers she had deep in her own quim were helping her own climax to build but still she was forced to keep swallowing as the Joker's head thrashed on the rest of the couch at the same time his hips were bucking in an honest attempt at fucking her mouth! At last - even as her own orgasm was threatening to peak - the last strings of cum pooled on her tongue and she buried her face against the opening to his jumpsuit. Savoring the hardness that remained in her mouth even as her own pussy suddenly clamped down around her fingers and she felt heat escape from her cunt in a sustained wave and her slit soaked the seat under her ass!

"Mm mph! Mm mph!" She groaned around the mouthful of cock!

The Joker smiled - not because he could not help it - but at the tenderness with which the young doctor tucked away his kit and made sure everything looked alright. She had used a few paper towels to mop up the mess she had made in her own chair. The fact that she had drank him down like a milkshake meant that there was nothing of his own orgasm to be cleaned up! Once her suit top and skirt were back in place she leaned over and thanked him for his time. As a parting gift she thrust her sodden panties down the front of his jumpsuit and then called for the guards to come and collect him.

Harley Quinn awoke from that particular memory/dream almost as turned on as the day that it had happened! The hideout was the same as it had been when she had nodded off. Catwoman was cleaning her whip and Poison Ivy was looking at her like she wanted to devour her whole. Despite the many betrayals she had suffered at the hands of her 'Mister J' she still missed him terribly when these sorts of dreams came over her. She didn't dare say anything to the other two about them either - the dreams that is. Ivy thought of all men - super powered or not - as being inferior to women. She and Harley had shared a few heated nights together before Selina had joined them. As to Catwoman? The only man she ever seemed to want to talk about at any length happened to wear a pointy eared cowl and was responsible for sending each of them to Arkham Asylum, or to Stonegate Penitentiary in Catwoman's case on more than one occasion. Heaving a long sigh she stood and stretched. Pausing just long enough to ponder what her 'Puddin' might be up to just right now?

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