Joker's Wilde Pt. 04

"Your turn to answer one. Did you leave him alive?"

Two fingers disappeared between her thighs as she shook her head in the negative. The Joker's aura had calmed from a spiked neon corona to a gentle green glow. And it seemed especially vivid around his manhood.

"Do you want to let me out or would you rather join me?" She sucked her fingers like a lollipop.

The Joker flipped a lever and the hum of electricity died. He unlocked the door and backed away. Harley crawled to the door, her breasts swinging like heavy pendulums, and pushed the unlatched door open. Her brother eyed her hands to make sure she wouldn't try anything funny, but she made no attempts.

Harley Quinn stood naked before the Joker, who walked around her to drink in the sight. Finally they stood face to face again. Unable to contain his excitement, the Joker's face broke out into a wide grin and he pulled his sister in for a hug. He smelled so surprisingly heavenly that she buried her face into his chest, inhaling deep so she might never forget their reunion.

"Did ya miss me?" he asked, taking in the fragrance of her hair, the feel of her curves, her heat and energy.

"More than I knew," she admitted. Harley could hear his heart pitter pattering beneath her ear.

"Do you want me?" The Joker pulled back and looked at her. Not as a brother would; but as a lover. It was hard, at this point, to even tell the difference.

"More than you know."

He lead her through a curtain-covered door into a room lit with black lights. A mural of Gotham at sunrise surrounded them on all sides. Or maybe it was sunset. The round bed in the middle was glowing white against the black carpet. Their eyes sparkled like emeralds against black backdrops. The contrast of ebony on white was stunning under the ultraviolet incandescence.

The Joker removed his gloves to touch her face. He smeared the red on her lips with his thumb, stretching her smile to mimic his own. Then he slanted his mouth over hers for a kiss. He was so hungry for Harley that he drew blood with a particularly sharp bite on her lower lip. She licked the tangy metallic flavor and offered it back to him on her tongue.

After a while, she pulled him down on the bed, trying to unbutton his shirt.

"Don't," he snapped. "Not just yet."

Harley could tell that he didn't like to be touched, so she allowed him to do the touching. For all of his ferocity, he explored her body with a childlike sense of wonder. How her nipples elongated as they stiffened; how her belly quivered when he ran his fingers along its center; how smooth her thighs were and the firmness of her calves; how wet and responsive her sex was. The slightest tickling of her nether lips sent Harley into a fit of throaty laughter. And when he pinched her swollen clitoris she gasped in pleasured anguish.

The Joker pulled something out from thin air- a long, pale ostrich feather. It looked like it had been plucked from an angel's wing. Harley writhed under its light strokes as the Joker teased her neck and around her breasts; down her belly and across her hipbones.

"Do you like that, Harley Quinn?" he breathed when the feather's tip danced over the cleft of her sex. She nodded, eyes dark and lidded. "Open yourself up for me."

She spread her legs more so the feather could descend upon her slick pink folds. The Joker blew on her nipples, then grazed them with his teeth. With the gentlest of sensations vexing Harley Quinn, her pussy ached for a firmer touch.

"No, no, no. You must be still," he chided when she tried to press herself against him, her hands reaching down to the bulge in his purple trousers. Once she'd obeyed, the Joker produced another feather- a stiff black one that had been used for flight. While the ostrich feather continued to whisper over her sex, he dragged the leading edge of the iridescent black feather over her nipples one by one. Harley grabbed hold of the white sheets to help resist the urge to rub her clitoris, which was peeking out at full attention.

Switching the feathers' duties, the Joker now began taunting her juicy quim with more pressure. Harley giggled as the ephemeral plume dangled over her ribs and the visceral quill scraped against her labia. Carefully, so as not to bend it, the Joker inserted the raven's feather into her entrance, fanning the barbs out. When it he pulled it out again, ever so slowly, they came back together. Harley squeezed her vaginal walls to hold on to the fleeting penetration.

The soggy feather tapped against her clit lightly, the quill's tip just making contact. The dry one floated just so around it. Harley Quinn bit down on her sore lip. How could this bring her so close to a climax? Every nerve ending was about to ignite. And then it all diffused as both feathers retreated.

"Oh fuck!" she whined. The Joker chuckled mischievously.

"Not a nice thing to do, is it? Bringing someone so close to death and not finishing them off."

"You heard him - Crane told me not to let you cum," Harley retorted.

"That's not what I'm talking about. Bring him in, boys."

And with that, a familiar clown barged in through the curtain, drawing it open for two more Joy Boys who were dragging someone in between them. It was their father. Jack of Clubs laid out a sheet of plastic on the floor. Harley Quinn tried to cover up her nakedness with a sheet but the Joker ripped it from her hand.

"Full House, Spades- Let him go," said the Clown Prince. Frank landed with a pained groan. "Now I'll admit to telling my fair share of white lies and half-truths, so I'll forgive you that. But to have mercy on this filth!" His roar died; the Joker appeared to be apoplectic with rage. Harley took the opportunity to speak.

"He doesn't deserve to die. Killing him after I was through would have been a mercy. I left him alive to suffer with his guilt and shame, as we've suffered with ours."

"He called the police on you. They found your car with a sweet little lady inside- but it wasn't you. Her body's on the way to the morgue now, where Dr. Crane will identify her as one Harleen Frances Quinzel. Reclusive, single, no surviving relatives. I'm sure no one will make a fuss about disposing of her remains in all haste, considering how messy her suicide was," he chortled. The evident glee this incited was even more off-putting than his temper.

"I was trying to help her!" Harley shrieked.

"Just like you were trying to help me? Like you were trying to help Mommy?"

"Shut up!"

"Like you were trying to help Daddy? Huh! Answer me!"

Harley Quinn reached up to the nape of her neck and pulled out a short, double-edged razor from its bobby-pinned nylon holster. He should have checked my scalp. Within a second, she had the blade between his lips, cutting into one corner of his mouth. She had his head in a firm grip and the Joker raised his hands in the air in submission, trying hard not to laugh.

"It was my life to spare," Harley Quinn said slowly. "I killed once by accident. I won't kill again unless it's with purpose. This isn't sport for me, brother. Do you understand?"

The Joker couldn't hold back anymore and began chuckling hysterically.

"Stop it!" she hissed. The razor's edging was cutting into his tongue and sides of his mouth. Suddenly, he grabbed her hand and forced the knife through his flesh, half-way up both of his cheeks.

Harley Quinn backed away in horror, dropping her knife. Thick black blood dripped down his face and neck, trailing all the way down his beautiful suit. The Joker continued to laugh, even with his face gaping open, bleeding profusely. Harley and the Joy Boys stood frozen, watching the chilling spectacle until the Clown Prince reached down for the sheet and used it to staunch his wounds.

After he'd soaked up most of the surrounding blood and wiped off his neck, he looked back up at his sister. "Ta da!" he proclaimed, grinning as per usual. The cuts were already fused together and scabbing over. He waggled his tongue, and Harley Quinn saw that it was completely healed, but for a few scars.

"How did you do that?" She stepped closer to inspect his face. The Joker grabbed her wrists so she wouldn't try to touch him.

"It's magic," he answered coyly. "You possess it too. You might even say it runs through our veins." The edges of the scabs had begun to peel up as he spoke, revealing the silvery, bumpy scar tissue beneath. It was a miracle of science; and to think it was being wasted on them.

"This isn't what I want anymore: this power, the senseless violence, all the hate I feel. I just want to be with you."

"And what do you think we're going to do together, Harley Quinn? Make Gotham a happier place where everyone has a smile on their face? Play nice and turn the other cheek and all? This is kill or be killed. Which one will you be?" The Joker picked the bloody razor off the floor and wiped it on his sleeve before proffering it to his sister.

Frank was waiting on his knees, hunched over and drooling. Harley Quinn couldn't stand the sight of him. Standing behind her father, she yanked his head back by his hairs. Harley's eyes stayed directly on the Joker's as she did the deed, slicing swift and clean. Blood sprayed over Gotham at sunset. Or maybe it was sunrise.

Harley Quinn was sprayed clean with a hose- during which the Joker frisked her himself just to be sure- and then returned to the cage to sleep. It had been emptied of her clothes and weapons but was now equipped with several long chains anchored to the thick bar at the top. She was still naked when he bound her wrists and ankles with fur lined cuffs to the four corners of her cell. Straddled over her chest, he attached a red leather collar around her neck and secured that to the final chain.

"Why are you doing this to me? I did what you asked!" she yelled at him after he locked the door.

"Go to sleep, Harl. You'll feel better in the morning." The lights went out and she was left alone, shivering, until finally passing out around dawn.

She had no way to gauge what time it was when she woke up. Tugging against her restraints reminded her of her date with the Scarecrow, and Harley began to cry out for help. After her throat had gone hoarse, she heard footsteps approaching. The drifting mist of white on the inky black told her that it wasn't the Joker. The light was blinding.

Once her eyes had adjusted, she watched the hulking clown called Full House unlock her cell door. He carried in a tray of food and a bottle of water. Behind his lifeless mask, Harley knew his eyes were running up and down her vulnerable body.

"Thirsty?" he asked gruffly. Harley nodded her head and he poured some water into her mouth. Half of it spilled out but what made it down her throat was incredibly refreshing. "Hungry?" He offered her a piece of toast. She chewed it slowly so as not to choke. After she'd finished the first triangle, he offered her more water. This time he poured more carefully so not a drop spilled out.

"Hmm?" Full House held out a spoon of eggs.

There was a naïveté to this Joy Boy; an innocence that she guessed resulted from developmental delay. He was big and brawny on the outside but soft and sweet on the inside, like George from "Of Mice and Men". This might have been the first time he'd seen a woman naked.

"More water, please," Harley said, watching him as she took a drink. "Thank you. You're very kind."

"Hmm. Eggies?"

"Please." She ate the heaping spoon of eggs and swallowed hard. "I have to go to the bathroom." It was actually the truth.

"Water?"

"No- I have to pee. Can you let me out to pee?"

"Hmm. Toast?" he waved the toast in front of her.

"I need to go potty. Do you understand me? You have to let me go. Please!"

"Hmm," he grunted and put the cap back on the water.

"Wait, wait! Come back! I want some more to eat!" she called as he started shuffling back to the cage door.

"How 'bout a cock sandwich," another voice replied. Harley Quinn turned her head and saw another clown had been supervising Full House.

"Yeah- why don't you bring it over here and I'll take a bite," she told him.

"I'd knock out your teeth first. Well go on, lock it," he ordered Full House. "Not nice of you- trying to get the big guy in trouble. He's not right in the head like me and the other guys. He's a fuckin' idiot, ain't ya Fool House!" Righty slapped the larger guy on his back.

"Yeah- and you're his sidekick," Harley said acidly.

"Hey- I ain't nobody's fucking sidekick!" Full House started laughing at Harley's jab.

"Knock it off, dumbass. It ain't funny," snapped Righty, hitting his partner on the back of the head. "See ya later, bitch," he called out as he walked away with Full House lumbering behind him. The dullard stared at her a minute before turning off the lights. The door clicked shut behind them and once again, Harley was all alone. For a while she struggled against the chains, trying to will them to break for her; but it didn't seem to work that way. Exhausted and about to burst, Harley Quinn fell into another troubled sleep.

When she woke up, she was aware of two things- she'd wet herself during the night and the lights were on. Someone was in the room with her.

"Hello?" she wailed. "Is that you, brother?"

A shockingly cold, hard spray of water hit her crotch to wash away her waste. She was so thirsty that as the stream approached her face, Harley opened her mouth took in several swallows before that someone turned off the hose. Shivering, she waited for the silent clown to speak but there was no sound but retreating footsteps.

"Come back!" screamed Harley, chains clanking against the cage as she flailed her limbs in an exercise of futility. She sobbed, helpless, fully expecting the lights to turn off any moment. But then she heard someone walking towards her with a distinct gait. The Joker.

"Are you ready to rise and shine today, Harley?" he asked, coming into view.

Harley Quinn nodded, her long leash jangling.

"I hope you realize that I've only done this to teach you an important lesson," the Joker informed her. "Can you guess what this lesson is?"

"That you're more powerful than me? That you're in charge?" she croaked.

"No. The lesson is that I am just. I've done nothing more to you than what has been done to me for your crime, and I will do nothing - we will do nothing to Gotham that isn't warranted by their transgressions."

"And what did Edina Dawes do?" Harley posed.

"She was going to hand that journal over to someone much more meddlesome than the police. You shouldn't have gotten her involved."

"I'll concede that point. But we can't sneak behind each other's backs, keeping secrets. Agreed?"

"If you'll make peace with me."

"You know I don't want to be your enemy, brother."

"We only make peace with our enemies, dear sister. It takes true love to make a true rival."

"Then let me go so we can make peace."

The Joker entered the cage and knelt on the wet mattress by her side. He frowned as he traced the diamond-shaped birthmark on his sister's inner thigh. "I am sorry," he whispered, undoing her collar first.

"So am I." Harley could see the deeply scarred skin underneath his bright red greasepaint smile. The Joker took her to a bathroom and left her there to tend to her long ignored needs, including a hot shower. She came out in the red dress he'd left hanging for her on the back of the door. It was cut low with a flouncy skirt and a black sash around its empire waist. The addition of knee-high socks and Mary Jane's made Harley feel like a full-sized baby doll.

"Shall we?" The Joker offered his arm and lead her out of the fun house.

Amusement Mile was ablaze against the night sky. This time, Harley Quinn saw Joy Boys everywhere- the masked carnival workers leered at them without expression. Skipping along with his sister in tow, the Joker took her to get popcorn and cotton candy before taking her on the Ferris Wheel. At the top, he pointed out all the buildings: Ace Chemicals, where his nemesis Dr. Thomas Oscar Morrow worked; the Monarch Playing Card Company where all of his joker cards came from; S.T.A.R. Labs where they had Harley Quinn's blood sample.

"Had?" she inquired, letting a clump of spun sugar dissolve like a cloud on her tongue.

"It's been sent off to Seattle," he commented.

"Shit- that's where Crane is!"

"I know. Don't worry- my old friend will take care of him. You could say I have a plant at the other S.T.A.R. Labs."

"Who helped you make the serum?"

"Red," he sighed wistfully. "You'll meet her soon enough."

Her? Harley felt a twinge of jealousy but kept it to herself. "She's a scientist?"

"A botanical biochemist, to be specific. A strong, intelligent woman- like you- who was once betrayed by her superiors. But- like you- she's transformed to into something they never imagined possible."

"What else is in it? Besides plant matter?"

The Joker laughed at her persistence. "I can't explain it all now. I'll just say that it's out of this world."

The next stop was for caramel apples and a shoot-out at O.K. Corral. Harley Quinn shot all the bad guys and left the women and children unharmed. She won a giant white teddy bear. Then he insisted on the bumper cars, during which the Joker took great pleasure in ramming her repeatedly. The Toppling Tower was next- taking them up and dropping them down as they screamed their lungs out. He dragged her on the Dippy Dipsy Daisies and then the Whirling Dervish- the shifts in g-forces were thrilling once she forgot about how antiquated they were. They noshed on corndogs and lemonade while they tossed coins into goldfish bowls. The Joker won a novelty top hat in purple velvet trimmed with green.

After they took a tour through the Mansion of Mayhem on a rickety cart, and Full House gave them balloons, they strolled through the Eternal Labyrinth. Somehow, despite the sterile soil, its hedgerows were thick and thriving. Red's doing? Harley sipped on the dregs of her lemonade, walking arm and arm with her brother who was naming off rides he still wanted to go on, like the Swings and the Alpine Express.

"I'm tired," she said, after he mentioned something called the Helter Skelter. "Why don't we go back to the Royal."

"The Royal? Why would go there?"

"Why wouldn't we? You paid up for the month."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he insisted.

"Crane?"

"That's a little too generous for his taste. No, I think you must have a secret admirer," the Joker said knowingly.

"What aren't you telling me?"

"Someone's had their eye on you. Ever since he started watching Crane."

"He who?"

"The Batman."

"Who the fuck is that?"

"A Caped Crusader who thinks he can save Gotham's soul."

"What does he want with me?"

"Oh, to save you I suspect. Or deliver you to so-called justice if you don't convert. A very boring agenda for such a fascinating character."

"I take it you want me to use his virtuous pursuit to your advantage?" she inferred.

"Our advantage, Harley Quinn. But we can talk about the Bat later. For now, I think we have a little more peace-making to make in peace."

The black-light activated mural of Gotham had been repainted, giving Harley the impression of walking into the imagination of Vincent Van Gogh. The brushstrokes swirled around in hues of day glow orange, primary blue, flamingo pink, twilight purple, and neon green. "Did you do this?"

"No. Full House is our resident artist."

"Really? He's a savant," she speculated, feeling the thick impasto texture.

"They say that after da Vinci died, they found a dirty old paintbrush where his cock should have been." The Joker had pulled out his erection and held it with his gloved hand. "With this lighting I could really rub out a masterpiece in here."