A/N: It's been a while. I don't own the characters.
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The first thing he did was tie her to the bed. She was grabby, always wanting to touch and stroke him and clawing at his back. He imagined she thought it was something he enjoyed. The irritating scratch marks made him feel otherwise.
"Puddin'," She was in her pajamas, nothing but a tight tank top on and underwear. He'd caught her before she'd gone to bed. He was still in his suit.
He sat on the edge of the bed, slowly pulling at the fingers on his gloves. He pulled at each one one at a time, making an effort to go slow as he slid them off. He was a bit annoyed at himself, but something had to be done. Behind him, Harley struggled a bit. "What are ya gonna do to me Mistah J?"
He stood up, dropping his suit jacket to the floor and walking to the end of the bed. He grabbed her knees, forcing her legs apart and setting his focus between them. He'd have to make her wet first. It always made the process a lot quicker, a process he wished he never had to do. Even so, his lower half ached for it. He pulled her underwear off.
"Mistah J-" She was obviously surprised at the suddenness of it, at the same time biting her lip and pulling at her restraints. "Quiet Harley." He was clenching his jaw, he didn't want to hear her speak. It was annoying, the screechiness of it, and the idea of gagging her ran across his mind. But then he liked to hear her cry, loved the sound of it when he hit her, and he moved his hand to touch her instead. He pressed his thumb between her legs first, lightly stroking against her clitoris. He remembered that she seemed to like that, for him to be gentle at first. It was boring, but it got her going and made things much easier for him. Instead he thought about hitting her as he did it - and he could feel himself grow hard.
He'd have to speed this up.
He popped a finger into his mouth, making it slick with saliva and pressing it into her. She let out a little cry as he did it and he bent down to lean over her, his tongue flicking out and making her toes curl. "Puddin'-" Her voice was coming out in gasps and between her legs was little resistance, his finger moving in and out with ease. He rarely did this sort of thing and she was loving every moment of it. He thought about his hands around her neck.
It was when she cried out his name again that he stopped altogether. He stood up, looking her over and pulling at his belt. He wanted this to be quick as possible; he didn't want to take off more clothes than he had to and he didn't want to touch her more than he had to. A few minutes should do the trick, maybe hit her a few times, see her bleed-
Harley was being quiet like a good little girl, obviously aware that her voice could make everything stop. She did, however, keep pulling at her restraints. She wanted to touch him, a right he didn't feel she deserved. Maybe if she was a bit more obedient he would be a little more lenient on her next time. Until then he kept her tied up, enjoying the sight of her struggling and panting and watching his every move. He could tell she was somewhat afraid, but at the same time she kept her legs open for him. He pulled his belt off completely, holding it in his hand as he leaned over her.
He wrapped it around her neck. "Please Puddin'," She let out a whimper as he did it, though she tilted her head back to make it easier for him. She could be so obedient sometimes.
"Now Harley, you know how daddy needs to keep you in line." He pulled on it until it was taunt, one end having gone through the buckle for it to act as a makeshift collar and leash. He let the end he was holding drop to the bed - he would use it later - and his waist was between her legs. She was breathing heavy now, something he attributed to a mixture of fear and pleasure. She liked pain a little too much, this one. Always willing to take it from him; crazy broad.
Harley let out another cry as he pushed into her, it was rough and quick, not giving her anytime at all. He didn't wait for her to be ready, deciding that the few minutes of his hand would be enough for her. She didn't seem to care anyway, making all kinds of sounds as he began to fuck her. There was a little resistance at first, she was always so tight from him rarely touching her, but she relaxed well enough as he continued to move. And he hated it. Absolutely bored of the normality of the feeling. He wanted more and without thinking he backhanded her across the face.
"Mistah J," She whimpered. Her lip had split from the violence of it, a few drops of blood forming at her mouth. "Aw Cupcake," He burst into laughter at the sight of it, his whole body warming up as he thrust in again. "Did daddy hit you a little too hard?" He was getting excited now, going a little faster. It always felt so good to see her in pain. But he wanted to see her cry.
He grabbed the belt and pulled.
Her whole body pulled with it, Harley arching her back to lessen his grip. As a result he used the other hand to grab her neck, "Please Mistah J," And he held her down, continuing to pull at the belt and cutting off her breathing. It was tight around her neck now, making tears well up in her eyes. He thought about her begging and kept thrusting. She began to pull at her restraints and he could feel her tense up. "That's it Pooh," He watched as she continued to struggle, "You know just how I like it." Finally, the tears began to stream down her face.
He let the belt drop. "Mistah J," She gasped, "I don't-" He roughly grabbed one pigtail, forcing her head back as he pushed himself inside of her again. "Quiet." He grit through his teeth, her voice ruining everything. He just wanted to think of that image, her crying face as he strangled her. It had made him so very turned on. And even her - even Harley had felt pleasure from it - he could tell from the wetness between her legs. And he kept fucking her, one hand still on her neck while the other held her head against the bed.
She let out a sharp cry, almost shrieking now as she relaxed once more. She was always a screamer, giving him such a headache, but a quick backhand and-
She was bleeding again, a bruise forming on her cheek and her head snapping sideways. It made her quiet down a bit but she didn't seem to notice the pain, continuing to breathe heavy and letting out little sounds as he didn't stop. "Mistah J," He closed his eyes, "Mistah J," Thinking about the bruise, "Mistah J don't stop," And she was roughly pulling at the bindings; she could never handle him for very long. It was like a treat for her, one she rarely received. And he ripped at the rope around her wrists, opting to hold them down himself now. He could feel her tense up again as he completely held her to the bed, his grip a little too tight. He thought about the bruises she would have in the morning.
He adjusted his waist and began doing it as roughly as he could, pushing into her as deep and quick as his position would allow. She seemed to enjoy it, letting out more gasps and Puddin's and moans. He moved his hand back down to her neck and lightly gripped it, squeezing just a little bit. He could feel the pressure building.
He suddenly hit her again, this time giving her the start of a black eye. He groaned at the sight of her beaten face, thinking about how wonderfully obedient she could be. She could be so fun to play with.
Harley wrapped her legs around his waist. She was doing her best to enjoy it, knowing the few chances she had, and at the same time making an effort to show she was in pain. It turned him on, she could feel it, and she was nearly there as he continued to make love to her. The circulation was slowly cutting off at her wrists and her face was swelling, surges of pain coming from her cheek and lip and around her eye, but she couldn't stop watching him on top of her. There was sweat forming on his forehead, his one hand periodically sweeping back his hair, and he was gritting his teeth. It made her so happy to see him in that way. To know she was pleasing him. To know that he had come to her.
Her Puddin' was so romantic.
She cried out all the sudden and his focus shifted. He imagined she had been thinking about something stupid to orgasm like this, her whole face a mess and her wrists tight around his hand. Even so he ignored it, continuing to use her as his own personal tool for masturbation. She tensed up as he kept thrusting and he clenched his jaw, thinking about the feeling in his fist as he had hit her. He wanted to strangle her again.
The thought made him give out, stopping on top of her as he went off inside of her. She let out a little squeal, clearly pleased, but he didn't seem to notice.
He began to get himself together, sweeping back his hair and getting off the bed. He was panting from the release. She laid there completely used.
Her face was in bruises and she was throbbing between her legs. Her wrists hurt from his grip, but she let her arms relax and she rolled on to her side, still breathing heavy. "That felt so good Puddin'." She was happy, a huge smile on her face as didn't bother to look at her. "The belt, Harley." She batted her eyelashes and reached for her neck, fondly touching the leather as she slowly pulled it off. She wanted to keep it, thinking about everything that had just happened. He yanked it from her hand.
"You know I love ya, Mistah J?" He rolled his eyes.
"That's great, Pooh." He had already moved on, thinking about future plans that needed to be written out. He picked his suit jacket up off the floor, "Do ya wanna cuddle a bit, Puddin'?" He straightened out his jacket, slipping it on.
"Not now, baby. Daddy has things to do."
He'd have to find his green crayon.