BLOOD AND TEQUILA

Author's Note:

Well, to start off, I obviously do not own the rights to the One Piece characters. I've always been fascinated by the psyche of Doflamingo, though. Watching and reading the current Dressrosa Arc, I'm often left wondering how a man might come to be such a cruel individual, whether it was possible for him to love, and just how he might perceive "love". Honestly, though, some of the content will be considered brutal for some readers. Keep in mind that this is intended to be a character study into the emotional and sexual nature of (in my opinion) one of One Piece's most cruel and interesting villains.

Story Image Credit:
"Doflamingo" by Young-Street (on DeviantArt)

[CHAPTER ONE]

Part 1: "Joker's Wild"

He looked her up and down carefully, methodically. There was something about how his head tilted just slightly into the crevice of his curved palm and the quiet smirk permanently stretched across his face that made Balia's stomach flutter. As much as she tried to avoid looking directly at his eyes, it was hard not to cower before him. He was massive, with looming stature nearly double her size. Even the languid hunch in his posture did little to displace the very intimidating feeling about him. He decisively exhaled a sharp sigh, which made her jump a little.

"Let's try this again, shall we?" His tone dripped in condescension, which failed to disguise a note of twisted pleasure hidden just beneath its cool surface. "Why did we find you snooping around in my factory today, hm?"

"I was careless, I suppose," the words fell through Balia's quivering lips with less confidence than she had hoped. Another man had been standing behind her. A wide, Cheshire cat grin seemed to be a permanent fixture on this man's face, but it fell into a grimace of indignation at her reply. He peered down at her with cold indifference, glaring through painted orange and crimson pinstripes. The back of her head was met with a sharp smack and her eyes were met with a flurry of stars.

"Watch your tongue when answering the Young Master or I'll rip that attitude right out of you," he scowled.

That's what they called him: "Young Master". However, he's also known as "King Donquixote Doflamingo", and even "Doffy" to very few. He had many names but, to her, the demon had always been known as "Joker": a monster synonymous in her mind with pain and loss. Some nights this man's smile would haunt her dreams, but this was not a dream. Here the Devil stood before her, his hand lazily lifted for calm. The Cheshire man stepped back a few feet, as Joker allowed a low, dark chuckle to escape from between clenched opalescent teeth.

"That's enough, Diamante. She's no use to us brain damaged. Such a cheeky, little thing. Aren't you, dear?," Joker sucked his tongue absently before getting up from his seat to move closer. "Let's start with something a little easier, then. OK? What is your name?"

Balia refused to talk, which caused Joker to raise a brow.

"You're going to want to play along this time. Even if you don't talk, I have someone in my services who can read thoughts. You won't be able to hide much."

"…Balia," she finally breathed.

"Balia? Balia. Hmm…," he pondered her name momentarily. "I feel like I know that name. Why?"

"I-I really don't know."

"Really? Well, I'm sure it'll come to me later," he looked at her curiously before turning to his associate. "Diamante, it was you who found her?"

"Yes. Violet spotted her inside the factory attempting to get the doors open for an escape and that's where I found her."

"I see… and she gave you that injury, as well?"

Diamante's eyes widened in mild embarrassment and he scoffed. Quickly pulling a pair of confiscated gauntlets out of one of the many small pockets on his clothes. While she had never encountered such an ability, she had been warned about the man, who is said could turn anything he liked into a flag-like material. Certainly enough, the weapon's soft leather and hard metal had indeed been folded neatly. Yet, Diamante quickly returned it to its normal state with the crunch of stiffened fabric. Upon its reveal, Joker inspected carefully with a look of mild annoyance.

"She's skilled with the chain mechanisms on these gauntlets, but this was just a lucky shot," Diamante explained and rubbed the growing lump forming upon his head.

"I'm sure it was. I'd expect she was no challenge for such a skilled champion."

"No. Stop it. It was really nothing, Doffy."

"No, I mean it! You're a very dependable man with such strength," Joker insisted.

"Really. She was no problem at all. Please stop." The man, who was at least a foot taller than Joker, seemed adamant on remaining humbled by the flattery.

"Well, alright then," Joker shrugged in submission.

"Still, if you think that of me then it must be true! Yes, I am certainly a skilled champion," spieled Diamante in a sudden fit of fluster.

"Indeed. Fufufufu," Joker chucked patiently. "And you said there was someone else aiding her?"

Balia's heart froze.

"I had Violet search the whole palace. She found a boy on the Toy House level. When we apprehended him, he had one of the factory fruits on him. She and Trebol are interrogating him now."

"Oh, no…NO! They caught Hidalgo! How?! I thought he got away! This is all my fault!", she quietly cringed in remorse, body slowly going numb in realization.

"Well, well… that was dumb of you two, wasn't it? You both came all the way here by yourselves? Are you suicidal or just plain stupid?"

Balia swallowed at the lump in her throat and gritted back her anger. She tried to ignore the callous way in which he mocked them, but panic had set in and her resolve faded fast. Joker knelt low enough that she could see the rage in her eyes reflecting off his sunglasses. She refused to be denied her revenge!

He chuckled cruelly: "Look at that beautiful expression! So much fight in you that you could spit fire! Still, you must be mostly angry at yourself having finally realized your situation."

"No…," she whispered menacingly; his smile faded slightly. "NO! I'm NOT planning on dying by your hand! I came to expose your twisted crimes, you sick bastard! You do not have the power- !"

The next few moments moved so fast, but she remembered every moment as if in slow motion. His face furrowed, then curled into a grin so rife in cruel fury that her breath suddenly caught in her chest. She hadn't even seen the open hand being pulled back, but had somehow known to brace for the blow. When it met with her face, it felt like the flesh of her cheek had ruptured under a pillar of steel. Her ears rang loudly over the noise of dizzied laughter. Vision tunneled and darkness crept over everything as she faded in and out of consciousness. Yet, he was far from done and shook her awake once more.

"Oh, dear. Look what you made me do! Fufufufu! Don't go to sleep, now. You may have a concussion... Now, what was that? I don't have power, you say? Well, Balia, I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you've just misjudged my sense of humor. Let me inform you, though, of what sort of things I do find funny. I mean really funny."

His tone was frightening and drowned in ire.

"What I find hilarious is that you'd think you're in a position to expose anything except your reasons for being here. There are a lot of ways I could get you to give me the answers I want, too. All of them more fun for me than you. I'd hate to scar up such a lovely complexion. So, no more backtalk. Be a good girl and just tell me what I want to know."

She remained defiantly silent, an act that both further annoyed and amused him. He paused to thoughtfully lick his lips: "Why were you in my factory, Balia, and just who in the Hell sent you?"

White knuckles had moved from clutching her jaw and were now tightly squeezed around each arm, with hands that felt like they could crush a man's skull with ease (and probably had done so before). He pulled her in so close now that she could smell the tequila on his breath, the heavy sweat on his tanned brow, and the styling products coming from his short, platinum hair. Huge, sinewy legs crouched low enough that their faces nearly touched. Behind violet lenses, the blurred outline of a madman's gaze peering into her soul made her shiver. For, amongst the mass of his feathery coat, she suddenly realized how small she really was: a fleck swimming in an ocean of garish pink.

"L-let him go…," Balia dared, but she knew it was a long shot.

"What?!"

"P-please, let the boy go and I'll tell you everything," her begging was forced through uncontrolled sobs. She needed a miracle to convince such an inhuman man to show even the slightest of mercy.

"Now, why would I do that?" He looked at Balia with amusement and, frantically, her mind raced to find a good answer. Having found none, she could only implore again:

"Please! I beg of you! H-he's only 15! He's still just a child!"

"Stupid woman. You think I give a shit? Fifteen is practically a man! He's old enough to accept his own consequences," Joker teased maliciously.

"NO! Please! Please just grant us this mercy! Spare him and I'll do anything you ask of me!"

Joker paused with sudden thought before donning a disturbed expression. "'Anything', hm?"

The way in which he said those words sent chills down her spine. The bitterness she felt could not have been any more evident and her contempt any more vindicated. Her stomach clenched back the sickness, from the noises his tongue made lolling, like a beast, inches from her bruising face. He bent in closer and whispered hot breaths into her ear, making every hair stand on end.

"Very well. Luckily you're cute when you're distraught," he cooed venomously and fresh nausea swept over her, curdled with fear. "I'll let the brat go. However, as far as anyone is concerned, you died here today. From now on, you no longer exist. Is that understood?"

Though it was far from ideal, Balia was certain that this was as close to a miracle as she'd ever get. Holding back a whimper and nodding reluctantly, she began to reason with herself: "So long as Hidalgo gets away, I can worry about myself later". Yet, suspicion still lingered.

"How do I know that you'll do as you promise?," she asked.

"…You don't," Joker snickered in reply. "Though, do you really have any other options?"

"…"

"I didn't think so, but I'm a man of my word anyways. Diamante, tell Trebol and Violet to finish with the boy and notify him of her…tragic passing. Kids make shitty toys, anyways. They break too easily."

Joker had stood up swiftly and returned to his chair. For a moment, Diamante turned awkwardly to glance at Balia, the whites of his eyes contrasting vibrantly against the red paint.

"And her?" he inquired.

"Show Miss Balia to the slave quarters. Get her fitted with a collar."

Diamante nodded curtly and proceeded to lift her like a sack of potatoes. Unceremoniously thrown over his shoulder, he turned around so that she faced Joker once more and watched as the demon's smile masked something dark and foreboding. Carried out of the room and down the hall, she was haunted by what that look might mean for her.

[CHAPTER ONE]
Part 2: "Debt's Owed"

The room was a bit smaller than Balia had expected and the only natural light came from a small window caged with smooth bars - presumably made from sea stone. In the corner was an old mattress next to a leash stake cemented onto the floor. There was a small bathroom sectioned off with a thin, rice paper divider. The chain attached to her collar was just long enough to allow access but, upon testing out the sink, she discovered it only had cold water. A minor inconvenience considering she hadn't expected a bathroom at all.

"You should be so unlucky that the Young Master let you live," the man called Diamante watched her from the doorway and she turned to face him. The sight of the man's grotesque smile looked as though it held back a dark secret.

"I'm not exactly sold on his version of mercy, but I wouldn't call it 'unlucky'" she replied. He chuckled softly.

"Oh? 'Mercy'? Is that what you think this is? Not exactly what I'd call it."

"Why is that?," she almost feared to ask.

"Our Young Master is blessed in many ways: charisma, intellect, skill… However, for men of his…quality…well, some blessings can be more of a curse. Let's just say that not every girl is up to the challenge… I certainly hope, for your sake, that you can give him better mileage than the last one… It was brutal what happened to her."

Her look of silent shock made him snicker and he promptly continued. "Alright, sweetie. Listen up! You'll address the executive members of the Donquixote family as 'madame' and 'sir'. This also goes for Sugar. She might look young, but you will respect her. You'll refer to Doflamingo only as 'Young Master'. You get one meal per day - sometimes two if you're good - and it will be brought to you at 8:00AM sharp. These are the rules and you will follow them. If you talk back, you will be punished and, if you run, that collar will explode, so no tricks. Got it?"

Swallowing hard, she fought back the tears and nodded as calmly as possible. The collar was already slightly cutting into her neck but, in her stubbornness, she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her suffer. The man gave one final, shit-eating grin before closing the cell door and locking it behind him. Through the bars of her cell, she noted how he neatly folded the keys and placed them into a pocket before leaving.

Suddenly, Balia was alone. Alone with only her thoughts to rack her mind over, of which there were many. Her regret loomed over her. How had they botched the plan up so badly? Why hadn't she stayed with Hidalgo? What happened to him? The worry that Joker had been lying to her about letting him go was eating at her.

I did what I had to do for Hidalgo. What choice did I have?, she convinced herself and it was ultimately true. She knew he was too young to get involved with this mission, but he had insisted she bring him along. He can be so… persistent about things!

There was a lot of time for her to ponder over these thoughts. The passing of the light through the little window allowed Balia to keep track of the days as they passed. Two came and went, with only the attendant that served her meal at 8:00AM coming by. She had tried to talk to him both times, but he never cared to reply. By the 3rd day, she began to worry if Joker had intended on leaving her there to rot, but later that evening she was finally summoned.

Another man - a different man - had come to fetch her this time. He reminded her of a massive slug, as his body seemed to consist of a foul slime. With every move, he'd make a wet slurping noise. He even seemed to carry with him the bits of filth from the floor, which hung suspended in his gelatinous form.

"Ne! Ne~! Look lively! The Young Master is asking to see you~!," the man boomed and, with surprising speed, stretched his massive face in so close that she nearly puked.

"Ugh!"

"Eeeeeeeeh?," his head tilted to one side but remained far too close for comfort.

"I-I mean, alright," Balia regained her composure and forced a polite smile. "Let's go, then?"

"Behehehehe! Alright! Hurry up, then!" He unchained her from the floor and she followed him without resistance back through the corridors.

"What does Jo-, I mean, the Young Master want with me, s-sir?" she found the formalities surprisingly uncomfortable.

"How the Hell should I know? Behehehe! Just shut up and keep a move on, stupid woman," his nasally laugh seemed to stick in his throat. He didn't appear to be a very intelligent man but Balia decided not to press the matter any further. When they arrived at the Throne Room, Joker was sitting at his seat finishing a game of chess with an older gentleman.

"Checkmate," he languished his words with a slow drawl.

"G~!" exclaimed the old man in surprise. "You've beaten me again, Young Master! The mind of youth is truly sharper than its elders'!"

"Fufufufufu… you're the one who taught me how to play, Lao G. Your wisdom accounts for much," Joker chuckled before turning his attention toward them.

The sluggish man chained her to the floor once more: "Alright~, Doffy! I've brought the girl for you! Just like you asked, right~?"

"Fufufufu… So you have. Thank you, Trebol! Now, if the two of you could please give us some privacy. Miss Balia and I have matters to discuss." The slimy man, Trebol, and the elderly Lao G both bowed respectfully before exiting the room and closing the heavy, wooden doors behind them.

In the moments that followed, nothing was said. She simply watched as he carefully rearranged the chess board back into its starting layout. He crossed one leg casually to reveal the bottom of a worn-in shoe. A random thought entered her mind, as she imagined they must be custom made for their tremendous size. Though this thought quickly passed when she realized he had started tapping one sole rhythmically against the floor.

"Fufufufufu…It's time for you to uphold your end of the deal, my dear," his grin, unflinching as ever.

"You upheld your end, then?," she knew to never expect a straight answer.

"I have. The boy - Hidalgo, was it? He was released, as agreed."

Her sigh of relief echoed through the spacious room: "Okay. Then, what might you need me to do?"

"It's not what I 'might' need from you. It's what I do need from you and, by now, you ought to know what that is."

"I-information?" she replied hopefully.

"Nyeheheh," Joker began to cackle in amusement. "I don't need information from you! That boy cracked and told my associates everything we needed to know."

His tongue stuck out in a mocking fashion, "No… what I want from you is, as we agreed, 'anything I ask'."

Lifting himself up and stalking towards Balia with long, aggressive strides, her body suddenly went numb and she managed to sputter out a reply: "W-what? What do you mean?"

"Evidence to the contrary, I don't believe you're as dumb as you let on, so I shouldn't need to spell it out for you. You belong to me now and I will do with you any little whim I might feel compelled to experiment with."

Her breathing went shallow and panicked. Desperately, she searched for a way out, that didn't exist. For a second time this week, his presence loomed over her and, for a second time in her life, she felt utterly small. "Y-you can't! No! Please! Don't!"

"You should feel it an honor to be subservient to a Celestial Dragon. Your life could not possess a greater purpose than to serve a god. Regardless, this was the deal we made. Was it not?"

"Wha-? NO! That wasn't - I didn't mean that at all!"

"Fufufufufu," his breath cast itself over her face and a firm hand reached down to unlock the chain from the floor. She began to fight back violently. "Hush, now. Let this be a lesson. Perhaps you'll be more… careful with your words next time."

With one hand gripped onto the leash, the fingers of his free hand began to curl in a strange manner and, with a sharp sensation, Balia suddenly became aware of the listlessness of her limbs. An odd sensation enveloped her body, which had begun to move without her permission and on its own accord. Helpless, she could only follow, as she was lead to the back of the hall and into a dim room.

[CHAPTER ONE]
Part 3: "Smother"

As they entered the back room, Balia made note of her surroundings. The walls of the palace were masoned out of stone bricks and this room was no exception. The furniture was sparse but exquisite in quality.

On one wall was a row of tall windows, warm light from the setting sun brushed past heavy crimson drapes. On the other wall was a massive, canopy bed, that seemed seldom used. Indeed, the area that appeared to be the most lived in was around the chaise lounge, which sat next to the windowed wall. The few side tables surrounding it were populated by numerous den-den mushi. Some peered at her inquisitively but most slept peacefully amongst half drank bottles of liquor. The room reeked of sweat and tequila.

Her body twitched involuntarily towards the bed and, as she approached, she found herself disturbed that the man would have another anchor on the floor beside it. He didn't appear keen on using it, though, and instead pulled out a small key with which he removed her collar.

"We can take this off for now. You have nowhere to escape."

He stood up slowly and flashed a predatory smile. Casually slipping two fingers underneath one of the straps of her bra. Balia's body trembled in reply.

"What do you plan to do, Joker?," she mustered the courage to ask and he frowned suddenly.

"You don't call me that… To you, I'm 'Young Master'. Understand?"

"Yes…"

"Yes?"

Balia winced and begrudgingly shot him a sarcastic expression: "Yes, Young Master."

"Fufufufufu! That's my girl. It seems you still have some fight left in you. Good! Breaking the strong ones is my favorite part," his words were heavy with anticipation. "To answer your question, today I felt like experimenting with 'breath play'. Do you know it?"

"N-no."

"Fufufu. Well, then I guess it'll be a surprise, won't it?" His tongue lolled out. He absently wiped at a bead of spit that fell from his lips and sat down on the mattress, which bowed under his weight. "Now, I want you to take off those clothes for me, but do it slowly… I want to watch."

His eyes were fixated upon her. For a moment, she could only stare at him stubbornly, but suddenly decided to oblige. When it came to a man with the power to turn people into puppets, she preferred to be in control of her own body.

Joker reached out and swiftly brushed her long hair away from soft shoulders, as her fingers caught the thin fabric of her top. She lifted it up slowly until it cradled under her arms, then completely pulled it over her head and tossed it onto the floor. The room was rather chilly, causing goosebumps to form across exposed flesh. He purred at the sight of her shivering, nibbling on his thumb to subdue the want.

"Awwww. What's the matter? You cold?" His cooing was more cruel than concerned.

"I'm fine."

"Fufufu! So strong! Don't worry. You'll be warm soon. Keep going."

Balia's eyes were cast onto the floor and her fingers nervously fidgeted with the button on her pants. With some effort, it popped open. The zipper came next, but she hesitated slightly before letting them fall to the floor. They revealed her pair of black, cotton panties that hugged over trembling hips.

With a sigh, Joker placed his fingers between her legs and pressed up towards her. His finger traced back and forth, pushing the soft fabric slowly inward until it moistened.

"For someone who says she doesn't want this, your body certainly seems eager," he chuckled and her cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment.

"I-It doesn't mean anything!," Balia insisted, though she felt quite annoyed with her body for responding in this way.

"Maybe not… or maybe it means the thought of me touching you makes you excited."

She hated the idea. That she could ever be turned on by such a disgustingly cruel man was too humiliating for her to imagine. Yet, with every stroke of his strong fingers across her lips, she could feel her legs growing weaker. Occasionally, Joker would jiggle his thumb against her clit and coo as she choked back a whine.

After a few minutes of teasing, he pulled Balia towards him and onto the bed. The duvet was downy soft underneath her back. Joker's smile vanished as he gripped at her stubborn thighs, but it returned when he had managed to force them open and lowered his head between them. He inhaled her scent and growled darkly, tracing his tongue along her slit.

"W-wait! Please!," Balia's cries went ignored, as he began suckling the juices from the fabric and enthusiastically prodded at her hole with the tip of his tongue. His saliva mingled with her wetness and soaked the underwear, making them grow uncomfortable against such sensitive skin. Every now and then, he'd hum in pleasure. The vibrations cascaded up through her body and escaped through mangled moans.

One of Balia's hands were gripped into the blanket and the other was desperately tangled in his golden hair. She gasped in surprise, as his tongue made its way underneath, lifting the damp cloth up just enough for sharp teeth to take hold and rip them violently from her body. The cool air of the room chilled the moistness between her legs, but for only the seconds it took for him to dispose of her bra. After that, she was warmed once again when his mouth traced its way down her body, over her hardened nipples, and returned to diligently playing against her clit.

Although it was unwanted and her mind recoiled, her body writhed in an unexpected pleasure. Nothing about this was supposed to arouse her but the temptation to give in had become more appealing. Still, she stifled every noise she could in an effort to refuse his satisfaction.

He smirked up at her from between reddening thighs: "You're still trying to resist, hm? When are you going to figure out that I always get what I want? Just give in to the pleasure…"

Without warning, he swiftly slipped one of his long, powerful fingers into her body and she let out a yelp!

"Fufufu! Yes. Like that," his words were filled with satisfaction, as his other hand pushed down over her belly so that she could feel every movement inside her. "I love it when my pets make little noises."

His finger tip curled and began tickling her G-spot. Occasionally, making noises of amusement at her frustrated groans and expressions of humiliated pleasure. A second finger prodded the hole optimistically soon after, but Balia refused once again. She tightened herself in defiance.

"Hm…It'll be unpleasant if you don't let it in. Really, I'm doing you a huge favour," he explained with some annoyance. "You'll want to be stretched out a bit first or the next step's going to be a little… messy."

Still, Balia resisted. If it was all she could do to defy him then she'd do her best to never let him inside of her.

"Suit yourself," she could tell he was slightly miffed but it did little to discourage him. Instead, he removed his finger and raised it to his lips. He inhaled deeply and licked the flavor off. Hastily, he unzipped his pants and revealed his throbbing cock. His had wrapped around it and Balia began to panic. It looked to be the length and thickness of her arm, a size that might be expected from a man of his physical stature.

"E-even if you did stretch me… that thing would never fit!"

"Fufufufufu! I think you'll be surprised at what your body can take… Besides, I'll make it fit."

Before she could protest further, he climbed on top of her, the weight of his body rushed the wind from her lungs and left her gasping for air. All around her, Joker's feather coat tickled against her breasts and surrounded her in shadow. Her legs cramped at being spread apart around his hips, but eventually bent in an effort to find relief.

Balia winced. She could feel the soft, fleshy head of his cock protruding against her, searching for the opening. When he located it, Joker pushed into her with slow persistence and she groaned under its undeniable force. A sharp cry escaping as the skin slightly tore to allow entry.

The flowing mixture of saliva, sex, and flecks of blood helped his needy prick during its eager search for warmth. She found that he could not be refused no matter how hard she tried. Her hips widened to allow for his massive girth and her body suddenly flushed with more heat to offset the pain. Joker startled her with an abrupt moan, as the remaining few inches entered.

"Hm… wonderful! How rare," he breathed a throaty growl. "Not many women can take me right to the base. You've had experience with larger men, haven't you?"

She was in too much shock to answer, but he didn't seem to care. With one arm wrapped behind her hips, and in slow, methodical thrusts, he began to gently rock in and out. In this moment, Balia realized that she was merely a toy for his pleasure. Her ears were met with the noisy slurping sounds with each draw and, with every thrust, the dampened pop of cock hitting flesh.

Gradually, they picked up in speed and she found it impossible to hold back the cries. Her whole body bracing for each impact, which barreled into her with intense speed and force. Smooth, tanned abs glistened above her with pearls of sweat that began to fall across her face. He seemed to relish every moment inside of her, his thrill expressed through an assortment of groans and sighs.

After a few minutes, Joker hunched his back so that he could look down at her, with clenched jaw and teeth gritting with such intensity. Balia nearly hadn't noticed the way in which he had propped himself up on one arm to stare at her but the other hand had quietly slipped around her throat and began to firmly squeeze. She began to panic!

"Don't struggle," Joker chuckled in a breathy voice, hips never missing a beat. His hand maintaining a steady pressure so that it became hard for her to breathe. "It's all part of the game."

"Game?" Balia gasped at him in frantic confusion. This psychopath was choking the life out of her! How was it a game?!

"Shhhh…don't talk. You'll run out of air faster if you talk," he warned and then, with a knowing look, his voice grew deep and serious. "You'll last longer if you just give in."

A sudden realization dawned upon Balia… the realization that he was right. Whether it was giving in now or completely, she'd live longer if she stopped fighting. However, at this point, it was too late. She had almost run out of oxygen and her vision had grown dim, but the pleasure of his cock throbbing inside of her was overwhelming.

She felt her body buckle under the growing intensity of an orgasm. It vibrated every nerve in her spine and threw her into a dizzying blissful confusion. She grew numb and, before passing out, could still faintly feel Joker's body spasming in release and hear his guttural yell, as his cum warmed inside her.

Everything went black.

...

...

...

A rush of hot air suddenly filled her lungs. Balia came to and found Joker hovering above her. Had he been resuscitating her?, she wondered. He pulled back to allow her room to sputter and gasp for air, as his strong arms lifted her onto his lap and held her there.

She realized that they were sitting in the Throne Room one more and that Joker had turned his attention to quietly putting her clothes back on. The collar had been the first thing to return.

"You're alive, I see. That's good," he chuckled callously.

"W-what happened?" whimpered Balia in a state of confusion.

"I think we just discovered that breath play is fun, wouldn't you agree?" His fingers lightly brushed against her collar and she became aware of the tenderness coming from the bruising hand-print on her throat.

"N-no! You nearly killed me!"

"Nearly, but you're not dead, are you?"

"That's not the point! Why didn't you just let me die?"

"You're a good fuck. In my books, that's someone worth keeping alive," he sneered at her but was puzzled at the angry frown she had, as she glared up at him. "Fufufu! Now, now… It must have been good for you, too! You seemed really into it. Twitching like a bitch in heat around my prick."

An overwhelming sensation of humiliation and shame swept over her for having allowed a man she loathed the joy of making her cum.

"Fufufu! Don't beat yourself up too badly. You'll have better luck resisting me next time."

Next time? Oh, God! I'd rather be dead, she thought frantically and Joker finished putting on the last of her clothes. Suddenly, the large doors were opened. Trebol's gooey figure slowly crept across the floor towards them.

"Ne~! Ne, ne! I'm here, Doffy!"

"Good timing, Trebol. There will be a change in arrangements for the time being. Balia should now be considered my personal pet. She will no longer be sleeping in the slave quarters," Joker grinned coyly and firmly placed his hand atop her head. "Set her up in the East Wing. Violet's old room with the sea prism lock should do."

"Eh~?!," Trebol looked surprised, but almost pleasantly so. "Behehehe! Sure, Doffy!"

Handing over the leash to his associate, Joker's other hand slid down Balia's back, between her legs and (without being perceived) pushed up against her swollen pussy. She was limping slightly and could hear Joker chuckle at her softly under his breath, as Trebol led her away.