I'd like to dedicate this story to my dear friend KindaMessedUp! I hope you enjoy!

Harley was giggling when she came back to the apartment building where her and the Joker were currently shacked up. Ivy had just driven away in her inconspicuous gray sedan and Harley was already missing her, despite the long weekend spent together. As she dropped her things to the floor and stretched, happy to be home, she heard a loud throat clearing and jumped at the sound. Her eyes wide, she looked over to see the Joker leaning against the wall casually, flipping through a large book. When he started to read, she realized it was a dictionary. "Commitment. The act of committing. The act of committing, pledging or engaging oneself. A pledge or promise, obligation." He looked up at her with a harsh glare and she squeaked, intimidated but heavily confused.

"Mistah J?"

"What exactly is it that you and that little houseplant do for days on end, hm?" He asked. As he started to walk towards her, he carelessly tossed the giant Webster behind him and it landed with a crash and she jumped again.

"What do you mean, puddin?" She asked, flustered, stepping back as he approached her. She was eventually pressed straight into the door and he was less than a foot away, looking down at her.

"What I mean is, is that you're my… Girlfriend," He seemed to grit out the words. "And yet, you're constantly over there with that little pest, ignoring your responsibilities here!" He threw his hands out and she flinched, but relaxed when she realized he wasn't making a move to hit her.

"Oh, Mistah J, I thought the boys would be able to take care of you for a couple of days! I'm sorry, Daddy," She said, biting her lip, praying that he'd go easy on her. She didn't like the way he was grinding his teeth, how one pupil was slightly larger than the other. When she looked around she realized that the place was a mess. The entire front wall was spray painted with a mess of green and black and purple. Furniture was scarcely thrown about and it smelled slightly of burning rubber. "Wow," She breathed.

"Yeah, wow, Harley," He said, grabbing her by her hair and dragging her into the kitchen where it looked as though he'd had a food fight — most likely with himself. "Look what's happened because of you!"

"Puddin, technically, I wasn't here to do this…"

"Don't talk back to me," He seethed and then he scowled, his red mouth twisting angrily and he yanked her towards him. "You leave me here, completely disregarding everything you're supposed to do just to go garden with your little plant!" When she gave him a shocked look, he waved a finger in her face. "Oh, no. Don't you even try to deny it, Harley, I know."

"Puddin, I—"

"Don't puddin' me, little girl," He growled, holding her tightly by her pigtail and backing her up against the wall. One hand on either side of her head, he loomed over her, trapping her there. "Have you not been getting enough satisfaction from me, baby? Is that it?" He laughed then, a cruel and bitter sound. "Or maybe… Maybe you're just spoiled! Maybe I've been giving you too much."

Her eyes widened. "No, baby! You've got it all wrong. Me and Red… Well, we…"

"I'm waiting, Harley," He demanded.

A single tear dripped down her cheek in reaction to his rage. "You do satisfy me! It's just… Well, you're more of a quality over quantity kinda guy... And that's okay! I love it! But I just…" She stopped talking when she saw the fury in her boyfriend's eyes. Ooh, Harley thought, he's jealous…

"But, but, but!" He growled, dragging her nose to nose with him, staring into her wide eyes. "Ya know, baby… Daddy really doesn't like people touching his stuff…" He released her quickly and she blinked in surprise as he stomped his angry way to the bedroom.

"Mistah J?" She squeaked. No answer, just more angry footsteps. "Baby, what are you doing?" She quickly rushed to the bedroom to find him yanking on his jacket while he slipped his feet into his shoes. Once he was dressed, he walked towards the door, brushing past her and she scowled. "J!" She shouted, immediately regretting it.

He froze and then turned back, looking at her with calm, collected fury in his eyes. "Did you just… Talk back to me… Baby?" He asked, licking his lips.

"N-no, puddin', I—" A harsh slap silenced her and her head bounced to the side, her body falling to the floor. His knuckles had connected hard with her cheekbone and it throbbed in time with her pounding heart. He was looming over her suddenly, one hand stroking her hair back before twisting it in his grip.

Hissing, he spat, "Sleeping around… Being irresponsible… Talking back. I don't think I like this new attitude you've gotten, sweetheart. I think you might be spending a little too much time around that plant of yours! Maybe she's teaching you bad habits! Stay here," He growled and quickly released her. Her head hit the floor again and she groaned, but as his words sunk in she panicked, scrambling from the floor even as her head swam.

"Wait! Mistah J, wait! You can't hurt Ivy!" She just knew that's where he was headed… He wouldn't kill her, but he wouldn't hesitate a second to slaughter Red!

"I can do whatever the fuck I want!" He growled, turning around in the doorway. His tongue darted out to lick his lips and his eyes narrowed, seemingly appraising her body. She looked down at herself before glancing back up, and when she did, she gasped. He was right there, in her face and his mouth attacked hers brutally, the kiss wild and rash and she squeaked in surprise. "Whatever the fuck I want. What makes you think…" He hissed against her lips, holding her tight to him. "That you can talk back to me now, hm? You think you're top dog now, baby?" She opened her mouth to reply but he didn't give her time to. "I'll show you who's top dog."

"Mistah J, please," She begged and then was silenced with a harsh knee to the stomach. She groaned, hunching over as he skipped out of her way. Harley fell to her knees, clutching her abdomen tightly, a sick feeling brewing in her insides.

"You know what happens to bad, disobedient little girls?" He roared from somewhere behind her and she sobbed once, a dry, choking noise. "Do you, Harley? They get punished! And in my experience, it's always best when the punishment fits the crime." A foot came crashing down on her back, jarring her spine and her head was bashed into the hard floor. She cried out again, rolling to her side and he roughly grabbed her hair, jerking her up to look at him.

"Daddy, please," She whimpered. "I'm sorry." Her hands reached up to stroke his lapels of his coat but any sort of forgiveness was long banished. Instead, he just sneered and slammed her head back down into the floor. She was fluidly pushed onto her back and was straddled by his heavy form. Vision spinning and stomach swirling, she couldn't prepare herself for the next blow. Two hard hits came one after the other on opposite sides of her face, one crashing into her jaw and the next her cheekbone, her nose cracking slightly on impact. She felt blood now pouring from her wounds and the orifices on her face including her nose and mouth.

"Sh, sh, sh," He quickly hushed and then was grabbing at the material of her tank top, slitting it halfway up with his knife. Her heart pounded faster at the silver glint of the blade. He set it to the side and proceeded to use his bare fists to rip the material straight down the middle. She was now very afraid of his intentions. This wasn't just a normal beating. No, she was used to those… She knew the look in his eyes, the twist of his mouth, the force of his blows… But it was different today. "Now, baby," He purred to Harley. "You know that Daddy is here to give you what you need… Haven't I always provided for you? Hm…? Hey," He hissed. "Look at me when I'm talking to you. Harley!" He grabbed her jaw and shook her until she opened her eyes and looked into his. Satisfied, he slid down her body until he was able to get a good grip on her bottoms, yanking them down her thighs. She immediately began to struggle, kicking at him and pushing, trying to crawl away but he was having none of it and with one hand, he pinned her down to the floor by her throat, worming the pants off of her legs with the other. "Why then, do you feel the need," He continued to lecture as he stripped her. "To go behind my back!" He was growling now, spittle flying from the corners of his angry mouth and she shook in fear at the wild sight. Oh, she had really fucked up this time…

"Daddy, how many times do I have to say I'm s—" He covered her mouth with one hand as he tossed the pants behind his shoulder.

"Oh, I know you're sorry, pumpkin pie. But it's the principle of the thing. I have to punish my little girl when she disrespects me…" He was breathing harder now, excited by the way things were going and Harley thought her heart might beat out of her chest. He was going to hurt her, badly this time. She was only in a bra and panties now but she knew those were soon to go. She watched with wide eyes as he removed his tie slowly and then pulled her writhing arms behind her back as she tried to speak against his hand. He had them tied quickly, rendering her immobile and she cried as she yanked on the binds.

"This isn't fair!" She sobbed, trying to kick at him. He grabbed her ankles hard, his strength almost unnatural and she knew it was from the adrenaline.

"Shut up!" He growled, slapping her hard again. He was done playing now. No more sarcasm, no more scolding, just straight to the point, brutal punishment. She whimpered, tears burning her stinging cheeks. His fingers tangled tightly in her hair and he wrenched her up to his mouth, kissing her hard on the lips, bruising her. She took this opportunity to fight back — by biting down viciously on his bottom lip. He hissed in pain, but also shuddered just slightly and she instantly regretted doing that. It only made him angrier and if the hardness pressing against her thigh was any sign, also more aroused. The frightening erection in his slacks is what really set her off and she cried loudly, trying her hardest to crawl away and he snarled, holding her hard by the hair and slamming her back down, trying to break her of her spirit.

"Daddy, please!" He pinned her down hard, one knee on her right side and the other pressing into her stomach, to the point where it ached and her breaths were labored. He was stripping himself of his coat again and then finally his belt and she shuddered at the sight. He looked so… So evil right there. So vicious. When he pushed his slacks down to beneath his ass, he moved back between her legs and she sobbed again. "You don't have to do this, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"Shhh," He soothed solicitously, but she knew it was just bullshit. His false comfort just made her cry harder. With one fist, he grabbed at her underwear and yanked and they shredded in his large fist, the hem yanking at her inner thigh and she screamed in pain as the fabric rubbed her raw. Finally, she was bare to him and he wasted no more time. Uncovering his angry, hard cock from his boxers, he jerked on it fast and furious as he looked down at her. "Maybe after this, you won't be so tempted to go fuck that little houseplant of yours," He growled under his breath and then he was there, in front of her cunt, slamming in, stretching her pussy open wide. It ached so bad, a feeling of burning racing through her shot nerves and she screamed loudly, her throat feeling ripped open by the force of it. Oh god, it hurts… He's so big and I'm not ready… No foreplay, no lust, no lubrication. She could tell he was struggling too, by the way his teeth grinded and he grunted, forcing himself deeper with every hitch of his hips. "Heh," He laughed, a gasping sound. "Ya know, baby… I think we might need a little help this time…" Lube? She knew that was a very unrealistic thought… When had he ever bothered to use that?

OH, God!

Holy shit!

A burning, white hot pain flooded through her as he slashed a knife through the shallow skin stretching from hip bone to hip bone, right above her cunt. She sobbed loudly as blood began to bubble forth, spilling from the way his thrusts rocked her body. His hand pressed painfully against the wound, rubbing straight into her gore and then he paused, pulling out almost all the way and began to massage the warm blood into his cock, moaning gently. He let his head fall back, jerking himself off while he was still inside of her. "That feels good, baby," He moaned, grinning.

Spitting her own blood from her lips, she hissed, "You're sick."

He flashed a wicked smile to her. "I take that as a compliment." And then he was thrusting in again, making her bite down hard on her tongue to keep from crying out. He fucked her hard, his cock banging into her back wall, searing her walls. The drag and slide of his member inside of her was harsh and unforgiving and Harley was soon a puddle of pleas and apologies. All fight was gone, and instead she begged, needing him to stop. "That's it, Harley," He breathed, pounding her at a painful rhythm. "Scream for Daddy… You're so sexy when you cry…" His words made her sick and her stomach twisted, a horrible feeling when mixed with the violation of her pussy. He was vocal in the pursuit of his pleasure, grunting and sweating profusely as he had his way with her.

He squeezed her breast in one hand tightly, bruising it even through the padding of her bra. He grabbed the knife and slit it down the middle, giving him access to the ivory flesh and hard, swollen nipples. He rubbed his hand into the still bleeding laceration and slid it up her stomach, over her ribs and across her breasts until her torso was a mosaic of blood and bruises. "J… J, Mistah J…" She cried, sniffling and whining.

"Oh, yeah, baby… So tight. So good." He held her too him tight and continued to thrust into her wildly until she felt him stiffen and soon he was spilling his warm, thick seed into her depths. "Uhh… Agh." He collapsed on top of her, their blood and sweat mingling and some idiotic part of her mind whispered, You'll need to wash his suit tonight. As she came back to reality, she realized he was tenderly licking at the salty tears on her cheeks.

She closed her eyes and he pressed two sweet kisses against them. As they breathed hard, she whispered in a hoarse voice, "I won't go to Ivy's for a while."

As he slid out of her and tucked himself back into his slacks, she let her legs fall closed again gingerly. The ache was still prominent, flared back to life by his exit. She sniffled, curling into the fetal position, a mess of come and sweat and blood, underwear torn to shreds around her ankles. He removed his tie from her wrists and went to the mirror, retying it around his neck, adjusting his collar while she watched with heavy, guilty, sad eyes. Satisfied, he sighed and walked back over to her. He kneeled beside her, patting her cheek gently twice and said in a kind voice, as if nothing had happened at all, "That's my girl."