overlithe (overlithe) wrote in batmanjoker, @ 2009-07-04 19:37:00 |
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Current location: | home |
Current mood: | satisfied |
Entry tags: | fanfic, genre: angst, genre: dark, kink: bondage, kink: non-con, rating: nc17 |
Break (Part 2/?)
Original poster: dark_kat26
Title: Break (Part 2/?)
Author: dark_kat26
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Don’t own Batman or any of the characters, don’t make money off them
Warning: Non-con, yes again (don’t like, don’t read please), language, explicit content
Pairings: Batman/Joker
Summary: Set after TDK, Joker is out of Arkham and running loose as it should be. Batman just doesn’t see things his way, Joker needs to try a new method of attack.
Note: I promise Batman won’t be held captive forever although it is a convenient way to keep the sex going. J
When Bruce awoke, he expected to find himself on the street or even at home in bed given his unmasking. Instead he woke to find himself in the same room, the same table, and the same fucking restraints except now he was face down and some portion of the table around his hips and groin had been removed. I could actually kill this man, the thought flew through Bruce’s mind. Wrap my fingers around that painted neck and watch the devil incarnate asphyxiate. Don’t go there, he told himself, but rage was better than the desolation, better than the giving up he’d wanted to do. So he clung to it with ever fiber of his being.
“Awake so soon,” the Joker’s voice reverberated through the room, “Much faster than last time.” Bruce strained the muscles in his back and neck to turn his face in the direction of that voice as he felt the cool metal against the other side of his face. He growled low and primitive at the clothed man lounging easily in the dingy chair, munching on an apple. “Hungry?” Joker held out the apple to which Bruce only glared, “Guess not.” The loud crunch of his next bite penetrated the air like a shot. While Joker’s actions were casual, dark, watchful eyes were contemplating, assessing. Joker swallowed the bite and narrowed his eyes, ”Bruce Wayne, huh? Didn’t see that coming. Hate to disappoint you, but I had to do some research while you were sleeping. I recognized you, but couldn’t quite place the face.” His teeth sunk into the apple with alacrity, followed by noisy chomping and a loud swallow. The nearly gone apple suddenly grabbed his attention and he studied it with great flourish, holding it up to the light and turning it over. “Did you know apple seeds have small amounts of cyanide in them?” A smile replaced the studied intensity as he brought his gaze back to the naked, bound man in front of him, “Sure you don’t want some?”
Bruce refused to give into the madman’s taunts and kept his vigil of silence.
Joker sighed loudly at Batman’s refusal to speak and lazily tossed the apple core over his shoulder. Placing his paint stained hands on each arm of the chair, he pushed himself up and craned his neck down to one shoulder and then the other, spinal cracks resounding across the smooth surfaces of the sparse room. “Back to work then,” his voice dipped down an octave as he moved to the table.
Batman tensed like a tightly sprung coil, trying to pull away even though he knew the restraints held secure. Hands clenched into tight fists and he squeezed his eyes shut as he felt the now familiar hands tracing across the contours of his back.
“So tense,” Joker murmured as he studied and explored the bruises and scars across the broad expanse of taught muscle. “Feel like chatting now?” hysterical laughter burst from his lips at the preposterous look on the bat’s face. “Now you know what’s coming,” Joker continued darkly as his hand trailed up to Batman’s hair, grabbing on ruthlessly, pulling the bat’s head up at a painful angle as his lips pressed against his ear, “Must make it more difficult.” Joker dipped his tongue into the crevices of Batman’s ear, swirling around each dip and peak until he reached the lobe and sank his teeth lightly into the flesh. “Or maybe you like it,” Joker’s hot breath dried the moist skin and Batman unsuccessfully tried to jerk his face away. In response, Joker suddenly released the painful grip on the bat’s hair and his head smacked loudly into the table. “Oops,” Joker mocked, “don’t want to mar that pretty billionaire face, do I? People might start to won-der,” his voice rose in the clown’s special melody. Joker’s anger rose at the continued silence, his voice brittle, “You really make an ass out of yourself in those fucking tabloids. Not that I care, but one would think you would.”
At the sound of Joker’s tone rising high and low at the same time, Bruce was considering his silence might not be helping him after all. “Has to be done,” he gave in and spoke though surprised at the lack of the Batman rasp.
Irritation forgotten, Joker looked at the bare face peculiarly, the new sound emanating from his greatest foe piqued his curiosity. He wanted to hear more. Fingers roaming in sporadic formation across Batman’s back and ass, a conversational voice emerged, “So dutiful. Doesn’t it get boring?”
“No,” Bruce clipped and decided silence, no matter how much additional pain it brought, was the way to go after all. Trying to escape within his mind to avoid feeling the violating touch of the Joker, he lowered his breathing and calmly closed his eyes. So close to mental reprieve until a sharp, slick penetration in his stretched, sore opening brought him crashing back fast and hard. A strangled sound crept out of his throat and he would have clenched if not for the memory of how much additional pain would come with it.
“You stay right here,” Joker commanded as his lubed finger slid in and out of the hot, tight passage, filling his loins with a heavy, delicious sensation. Desiring more contact with his unmasked bat, he easily launched onto the table, draping his clothed body over the large man. Propping his head on his hand, he watched the bat’s pinched face as he added a second finger, sliding up to the knuckles and working side to side deep within. “Want some pleasure to counteract the pain?” Joker taunted, “Or just more pain?” Batman either refused to speak or couldn’t, Joker wasn’t quite sure given the lightening pallor of his skin. “Breathe, deep and slow,” he instructed lowly and didn’t hide his gleeful smile when Batman followed his direction, back rising and falling steeply and slow. Joker’s fingers had been taking an easy, slow pace and now he picked up the speed, but avoided hitting the prostate. Shifting, he added some lube to a third finger and roughly added it, ignoring Batman’s grunt of protest as he settled back to admire the emotions running across the bat’s face. The Dark Knight had to be in pain, Joker hadn’t made much of an effort to be gentle and a mischievous expression crossed his face as he drove the three fingers deep and spread them out brutally. He felt the muscles tightening involuntarily around his fingers, which only increased the sparks of torment careening through the bat. “You masochist,” Joker scolded as he refused to release the burning stretch of his fingers.
Batman’s eyes shot open despite concentrating on finding a way to decrease the pain and saw the clown’s mocking face so close to his own. Joker leaned his face closer and Batman refused to retreat even though his instincts screamed at him to try. “Want me to stop?” the Joker’s voice surprisingly lacked a taunting lilt. A spark of hope lit in Batman’s chest, this was a question he could answer without losing face. “Yes,” he forced his voice to ring loud and clear without allowing pain to fringe the edges, but found he wasn’t successful. Suddenly, the fingers collapsed in and slid out easily. A broken sob fell from Batman’s mouth as the invasion ended and he dug his head on the hard table as if it would offer some sort of comfort, ignoring the longer strands of hair that fell across his face.
Joker pulled his legs up and under to sit indian style next to the bat’s face. Still can’t think of him as Bruce, just too weird. No, he’s just Batman. Long, lean fingers filtered through Batman’s freshly damp hair, pushing it away from his face as the Joker’s thoughts strayed to the fact that his throbbing cock was just inches, and a small amount of cotton, away from the bat’s mouth. Probably not the brightest idea, he told himself, teeth can be just as sharp as knives. Bat is cracking, cracking, cracking. Almost time to break, almost. Joker pulled his hand away from the soft hair and watched the man breathe raggedly for another moment before jumping off the table.
Batman didn’t even notice Joker’s movements until he heard the sound that he was quickly learning was a warning of what was to come, a zipper lowering slow and steady. He wanted to scream, wanted to thrash, but knew it wouldn’t do anything except heighten the panic that was now a constant thrum. Feeling the brush of skin against the insides of his legs, his body lurched and his heart sped to an impossible pace, like it would explode at any moment and he wished it would. A hand fondled his ass and then traveled around the side of his hip and kept trailing further. Desolation pulled at Batman, beckoning him to dwell in the darkness as he realized why the section of the table had been removed. Easy access. Nerves heightened, he felt his flaccid cock encircled by a warm hand stroking from the base to the tip, occasionally cupping the heavy weight of his balls. At odds with the aching pain, acutely fresh, the pleasurable sensations were potent and he ground his teeth as he felt his cock respond quickly, growing hard and heavy. But, the break from the incredible pain, as each stroke pulled, commanded, throbbed, brought a sigh of relief through clamped teeth. A long fingernail lightly grazed along the length of the pulsating erection and a shudder wracked his body even as he fought the reaction.
Joker grinned at the shudder and ran his still slick fingers around the bat’s tight opening while continuing to jerk off Batman’s cock. His fingers didn’t penetrate, but massaged and teased the bundle of nerves relentlessly. Pressing lightly and then retreating, a light scratch from a fingernail here, a firm press there. Joker’s efforts were rewarded when the hand stroking the bat’s heavy erection trailed over the tip of the engorged shaft to become wet with pre-cum. Joker’s fingers greedily caught the slickness and rubbed it over the caped crusader’s straining cock finally bringing a harsh, erotic, and, most likely, involuntary, moan from Batman.
Shame and disgust overcome the Dark Knight. He had to be stronger. He couldn’t give in to the sensations just because they gave him a respite from the pain. Pain is better than this, he told himself. He twisted his hips the small amount he was able and renewed his attack on the shackles and manacles, pulling viciously with his limbs until the metal dug painfully, breaking through the skin with each tug. Batman didn’t notice that Joker had removed both hands and continued trying to pull his bones through the restraints as small trails of blood dripped down wrists and ankles to drop carelessly to the floor. His bones felt like they might collapse, might give in and let him break free, so he pulled with a rash violence, not noticing, not hearing his own cries of anguish and torment as the onslaught persisted. Then suddenly a knife was in his mouth, pressing against the corner of his lips and this sensation stilled him.
“Enough,” Joker’s voice broke through the madness that was normally his department. He lightly tapped the edge of the blade against the sensitive skin and watched Batman eye him warily, trying to smooth the shaky breaths that might get him nicked. “Done? Or should I slice one side for good measure?” Joker’s voice dropped to a low gravel, obviously not amused.
The fight seeped out of Batman and his eyes were bleak as they met the Joker’s confident gaze. Batman didn’t move or speak for several moments, which must have signified his acquiescence to the knife-wielding madman since the blade was removed. Although hopelessness had settled like a blanket over him, panic easily stabbed its return as Batman heard the Joker climb back on the table.
Joker kneeled between the bat’s spread legs and took his time applying the lube to his own strained cock, letting the anticipation and fear build within Batman with each mounting second. Joker used long, slow strokes to evenly distribute the lubrication while his eyes absorbed every detail of Batman’s body and didn’t miss the rising tinge of frenzied panic. Frenzied, Batman, hah! For good measure he added some lube to Batman’s abused opening and then eyed the closed butterfly knife resting on the edge of the table. His eyes flicked to Batman’s tormented face, back to the knife, and silently picked it up in one hand, continually rubbing his excited erection with the other. It wasn’t long or wide enough to be that painful, not to mention the blade was encased, but Joker couldn’t deny himself this quickly growing fantasy. Joker easily slid the butterfly knife inside the Dark Knight and found the grunt of shock and wild buck of Batman’s body in response to the cool, foreign object highly erotic. The bat really has such beautiful reactions, Joker thought in awe. Joker moved the object slowly, letting Batman feel all the smooth, hard edges deep inside as the Joker rotated and plunged the knife with nimble fingers. Joker knew Batman was barely holding back his panic and fury with the lack of knowledge of what, exactly, was being rocked in and out of him. Joker’s cock twitched with each strangled gasp and fist clenching Batman emitted. Joker pulled the blade out and watched Batman’s still form tense, trying still to identify the object that had just ravaged him. With an evil smile, Joker loudly swung the blade to its open position and watched Batman’s face pale considerably. When the bat lifted his head and pressed his face nose down into the metal surface, Joker realized Batman was waiting for the blade to be inserted next. He giggled at the thought, even considered it for a moment, but decided to the close the blade and set it aside after all. That erotic thought sent Joker to the next level and he couldn’t wait any longer. Using his hand to guide the tip of his straining cock to the prize, Joker buried himself quickly, ruthlessly inside Batman. Joker’s groan of appreciation along with another bout of crazed laughter danced throughout the room. With the caped crusader on his stomach, his teeth were out of range this time. Joker utilized the position to drape himself over the length of his captive’s body, cock firmly entrenched inside the bat. Another loud groan traveled from Joker’s mouth as he relished in the feel of skin against skin. He let himself enjoy the stillness of the moment and peered at the naked face of Batman. Joker could have sworn that was a tear on the bat’s bare face, but then again, it could have been sweat.
Batman felt the Joker’s penetration with a searing fire and small burst of joy when it wasn’t the sharp blade his mind had convinced him was coming next. Feeling the Joker settle on top of him and all the resulting friction and heat of copious amounts of skin to skin contact made Batman want to crawl out of his own. Batman’s lack of control ate away at all remaining defenses and his fists clenched, causing more blood to flow from the wounds at his wrists. He could feel the sticky blood trailing around his fingers, making them wet and slippery. Thanks for small favors, Joker stayed immobile inside of him, but that was only because Joker’s hands were busy exploring all the lines of his shoulders, back, and drifting down to grip his ass in a relentless claw. But then Joker started moving his cock within Batman’s ass. Each thrust was slow and deep, bringing a fresh onslaught of pain that never seemed to relent. Joker’s wet tongue was making some kind of pattern on Batman’s back, followed by lightly nipping teeth. Batman tried to concentrate on breathing, ignoring all his body was screaming, and managed a hint of internal calm until the thrusts started picking up in speed and intensity.
Joker couldn’t seem to help himself, but all these beautiful scars and bruises were the aphrodisiac he really didn’t need. He thrust his hips forward sharply very pleased with their current position as it let him drive even deeper into the bat. There was one pretty purple and blue bruise right between Batman’s neck and shoulder that demanded his attention. Fully giving over, Joker settled his mouth over the mark and bit down harshly. Batman’s reaction to rock backward and tear away from the flesh consuming mouth timed perfectly with Joker’s plundering as their forces collided, ass to cock. Joker released the bruised flesh to let out a loud groan mixed with a primitive growl and nearly got his nose broken as Batman snapped his neck painfully back to make the poignant contact. In Joker’s highly aroused state, he managed to lift his head high enough to avoid the blow and gave a sharp laugh at the attempt. The laugh quickly turned to an expression of fury as Joker placed one hand on the side of Batman’s face and applied weight and pressure to smash it into the table while he continued pummeling the Dark Knight with his demanding cock. The resulting snarl from Batman was enough to bring back Joker’s good humor and he happily concentrated on his own pleasure returning to bite the beckoning bruise. Biting and sucking on the tender muscle made it a delectable shade of red, which could also be helped by Joker’s painted lips. Either way, Joker made work of the sensitive spot, drinking with alacrity the beads of blood that surfaced through his own teeth marks. The pressure on Batman’s face increased and decreased with each thrust, but didn’t release enough pressure for comfort. Once Joker was satisfied with his assault on the intoxicating injury, he removed his hand from crushing his captive’s face and pulled his body up and away from the sweat glistened back of Batman.
Batman felt a small moment of elation at the elimination of so much physical contact with the Joker. He took a moment and pried the skin of his face from the molecules of the table, rotating his jaw before turning to his head to the other side and lying back down in surrender. Strong fingers crushed into Batman’s hip bones, pulling him what small amount was allotted by the restraints. With his hips cradled in Joker’s capable hands, the thrusts became brutal, punishing as he felt the hard, swollen cock slamming into him. Batman had to release some of the hot, intense pain with a scream of agony.
“That’s it, scream for me,” Joker rasped lowly as he watched his cock pulling in and out of the bat’s ass. Joker felt the bat tightening to hold the cries of pain inside, which of course sent the pain escalating and resulted in exactly what Joker wanted, more screams. In the next thrust Joker aimed for the prostate and received a strangled cry tinged with pain and gratification. Joker released one hip to reach around and stroke the bat’s semi-hard erection. Intently, Joker aimed his painful thrusts at the prostate and matched the rhythm with each hard stroke of Batman’s cock, which was rising eagerly to the occasion. Joker let out a flurry of hysterical giggles mixed with grunts of appreciation and lust at finding Batman so responsive.
Batman felt his circuits scramble, messages were mixing, not going to the right places. Pain started to feel like pleasure and pleasure started to feel like pain. Batman felt his own cock fill with excitement, building to feverish levels with the Joker’s other hand still grasping harshly on his hip. His vision was becoming hazy with the electric sensations jolting through his engorged cock. No, Batman’s mind screamed, yelled, protested with the force of an army. He was not going to give Joker the satisfaction of making him cum. But, the only way Batman could prevent his own humiliation would be to make sure the devil came first, which, coincidentally had to be very fast. With a heavy dose of disgust and shame, Batman, utilizing what miniscule mobility was available, moved his hips back, meeting each and every thrust from Joker. Batman received loud gasps of pleasure and triumph from the Joker, but the crazed clown was still stroking Batman’s throbbing erection with a vigor that was turning Batman’s blood even hotter. Gritting his teeth against the unavoidable onslaught of pain that would accompany his next action, Batman rocked back and used his muscles to clamp down on the Joker’s cock each time it penetrated and violated his body. The low growl that reached Batman’s ears let him know he was succeeding and finally Joker’s hand drifted from his own erection to clamp cruelly on Batman’s free hip. Joker used Batman’s hips like handles and plunged into him, moaning loudly at Batman’s rocking body and tightening muscles, encasing his cock. With the new position, Batman could feel the Joker’s balls colliding with his own as the madman buried his cock deep, burning him from the inside out.
His loss, Joker decided as he gave in to the overwhelming sensations tightening around him. The combined efforts of Joker’s powerful thrusts and the Dark Knight rocking into his cock made the Joker’s blood careen through his veins, tinged with electrical currents and right into his heavy balls. Batman used his inner muscles to tug and milk out each spurt of cum as Joker held on tightly and took glory, physically and vocally, in his possession of the infamous Dark Knight. Joker’s shouts of achievement and conquest echoed throughout the room. Slowly, as Joker’s orgasm relieved him of its intensity, he released his talon grip on Batman’s hips and cascaded his body along the length of the bat. Resting his cheek on the caped crusader’s broad back, he traced a finger around the bruise he made bleed with a smile, still enjoying the feel of his semi-hard cock resting inside Batman. “Always holding back,” Joker mumbled audibly enough for the bat to pick up. If he looked up, he could see the Dark Knight’s face, but he kept his gaze down so his captive wouldn’t hide his reactions. “Control issues too,” Joker added. Finally pulling out, Joker let his wet cock lie against Batman’s bare ass and reached down, giving each cheek a squeeze, “A few minutes and you’ll be ready for round three, right?” Joker lifted his eyes this time to ensure he caught the reaction. Batman’s eyes stared emptily at the wall across the room, not blinking, and whatever tension remained in his body drained at the last question as he seemed to melt into the table in defeat.
Batman watched the crazed man saunter happily across the room and couldn’t find the strength to feel anything but overwhelming shame, disgust, and humiliation. Even the pain and burning that seemed to spread throughout his entire body, though it stemmed from one area in particular, couldn’t overshadow his complete defeat. Joker returned shortly with a warm wet towel that he used to clean up himself and then Batman. Batman couldn’t decide what was more humiliating, the act that led to the clean-up or the clean-up itself. Another bothersome fact was that Joker did that while he, himself, was unconscious before. Joker disappearing again, Batman didn’t even bother to worry about what was next as his glazed eyes stared straight ahead.
Joker returned again with another warm, wet towel and lightly washed away the sheen of sweat from Batman’s skin, taking great care around the area he had abused with his teeth. Satisfied, he tossed the towel on the floor and went to the head of table, squatting down to lock eyes with Batman. “Who knew one of your talents was being a great fuck? Even tied down and helpless, that was great, really.” Joker patted Batman’s head with his hand as if rewarding a small child, “Best screams I’ve ever gotten. That’s definitely your area of expertise. Just the right combination of pain and desperation. And such a pretty face to go with it.” A small cackle of laughter floated through the air and Batman didn’t stir or make a single sound. Joker gave him a garish smile and rose, crossing the room to return with the white cloth. “You know the drill,” Joker laughed manically at his own pun and placed the cloth over the hero’s face, watching with triumph as his eyes slowly flutter closed.