overlithe (overlithe) wrote in batmanjoker, @ 2009-05-09 01:15:00 |
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Current mood: | awake |
Entry tags: | author: mayphoenix, fanfic, knight vs anarchy round 8, one-shot fic, rating: nc17, team anarchy |
Team Anarchy - Round 8 - Fanfic: "Command Performance"
Original poster: mayphoenix
Title: "Command Performance"
Author: MayPhoenix
Prompt: "All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players: They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts." - As You Like It (Act II, Scene VII)
Word Count: 736
Disclaimer: I own nothzink! I see nothzink!
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: That would be giving it away, wouldn't it?
A/N: This is dedicated to my good friend jean_c_pepper …because she needs/deserves a pick-me-up today.
The stage was set, a simple bed with clean linens the color of blood, rich and sensual in the room's lowered lighting. Seated in shadows, an audience of one waited for the show to begin. He had been anticipating this for days, ever since receiving a personal invitation for a private viewing.
His pulse quickened when the star attraction entered and moved to the front of center stage. For a moment, he forgot his own part in this play, his gaze riveted upon the white costume – a nurse's uniform – and the equally white-painted face colored only by kohl-blackened eyes and a bright red smile drawn ear to ear. Only when a pink tongue slid across crimson lips did he shake himself from his stupor. He cleared his throat. "Disrobe," he commanded, thus beginning the audience participation portion of these proceedings.
Obediently, the actor complied. Slender hands moved to unbuckle the white belt circling the slim waist. Fingers climbed to the collar, found the zipper tab, and drew it down slowly along the length of a smooth, nearly hairless torso. A sensuous roll of shoulders caused the garment to slip down off of surprisingly muscular arms, until the dress dropped of its own volition to the floor around the actor's feet. Naked, he stood there, a smirk on his mouth, waiting for the next direction.
"Get on the bed. Now…run your fingers across your chest…lightly…around your nipples."
The performer's hand swept back and forth, stirring the sparse patch of hair over the breastbone as it traveled from one small brown bud to the other. His nipples hardened instantly. This caused him to sigh and close his eyes.
"Look at me."
The brown eyes opened again, gleaming as they focused on the figure sitting just outside the circle of light.
"Slide your hand down your stomach…and touch your cock."
Once again, the actor did as told; his palm skimmed south over his abdomen to the thick organ sprouting from a small thatch of dark curls. Wrapping around the base, his fingers began a slow, easy rise and fall, up to the tip and back down.
"That's good…now with your other hand…rub your balls."
The sight of those fingers at work, graceful and beautiful, began to make the audience member squirm in his chair. He had to shift his hips in an effort to alleviate the tightness of his slacks as his own cock stirred in sympathetic response. His mouth felt dry as he summoned the next command. "Keep stroking your cock, but turn around and get on your knees…and bend over."
This earned a twitch from the actor's lips and a bemused hum before he moved into the new position. He braced himself on his left arm as his right hand continued to pull on his cock. He made sure to spread his legs wide enough to let his audience see him milk the organ.
It served its purpose. Unable to watch passively another moment, the director got up from his seat and moved toward the bed. He unbuckled his belt, unfastened his trousers, and shoved both pants and underwear down his thighs. His cock bobbed free, stiff with arousal. Reaching out, he grasped the actor's hip with one hand and ran a finger down the crease separating perfect, round buttocks. He grinned in approval when he found the puckered hole already primed and ready for him. Not one to disappoint, he positioned the head of his cock against that spot and pressed into the hot, tight channel in one smooth, slick thrust.
Now part of the play, audience and actor began to move together, voices joined in a chorus of grunts and groans, muttered obscenities and gasps of pleasure that built to a crescendo before ending in a shared moan of release. They sagged, sweaty, collapsing to the mattress in a heavy-limbed heap. For a long time, they just lay there. Quiet.
"So," Bruce said at last, when he caught his breath again. "What do you do for an encore?"
The Joker turned his head and looked at him. "Hm, that depends," he purred, shifting in the billionaire's arms.
"On?"
"On how soon you can give me a standing ovation."
Bruce gave him a wolfish grin. "Oh," he said, "I think that's happening, right now." Pulling his lover close, he kissed the painted mouth before rolling the clown over to begin the next performance.
- fin -