For the fourth time, Arthur stopped licking Harley's clit before she could peak. By now, she was sobbing mess and begging for him to let her peak. She felt in place, complete and yet frustrated to her very core.

"Are you sure you want that? Cause your little girlfriend is giving this to you, but you come to me instead. So I think I should keep you here...over...and over...and over..." Arthur mused, licking over her slit slowly between each 'over'.

Harley burst out in crying, since she didn't know how to respond to this. She needed to come, she craved to come and at the same time she craved to be kept right on her edge, under his very mercy. It reminded her of her eternal struggle between being Harleen and Harley.

"You don't deserve this peak, do you, Harley? You've been a bad girl..." Arthur whispered Harley groaned and arched her back, to try and convince him to finish her off. Her clit throbbed in need to be touched, but Arthur wanted her here, in her most vulnerable state. "Well? Do you deserve this peak?" He pressed her, softly blowing on her pussy.

"No, no, I don't!" Harley mewled, grabbing the edges of the little table to try and keep herself from begging him. She has a sliver of pride left and she was clinging to it for dear life.

"I think it's time to turn this around. You've had me locked and shackled in here for long enough now. It's time for payback. You've had plenty of time to come back to me, to get me out of here and quit this fucking job. But no, you left me to rot and used me when it was convenient for you." He said through gritted teeth, glaring at her.

Harley whimpered. He made it sound like she was an awful person, a sexual deviant. But he was the one that her do these things, right? Or was he correct? Did she cause all of this? She wasn't as happy with Ivy, she had to admit that. Plus she was kind of cheating on her like this, using her job as a cover to still mess around with him.

"You fucking slut...look at you...laying here like this, your pussy wide open and wet for my tongue and my cock. You'd love it if I fucked you now, right? You are so needy for my cock."

His voice only aroused her more, his dirty talk adding to that. Harley opened her blouse and her bra, since she wore one that opened at the front, and played with her nipples as she nodded.

"Please, mr. J. I need you to own me..." Harley whispered, finally saying the very thing that had been on her mind all this time. She wanted him to own her. If they could just talk about what was and wasn't ok as a punishment...then she'd knew they could make it. Or did she merely want it to work? Against all odds?

With a grunt of pain, Arthur stood back up, leaning against a table leg for leverage. He hovered over her again and smirked.

"Yes, you do need that. I'm just not sure if I'm willing anymore. You'll have to prove yourself to me. Shoot them. Shoot everyone in your way. I want these walls to run red with their blood. You are going to let every criminal out of this place, including me. Then you'll go home with me and repent for what you've done. Then we'll deal with your little girlfriend. Did you get all that, Harley?"

Harley bit her lip, still fondling her nipples to at least get some pleasure from all of this. She didn't know what to say. At this point she'd do anything for a peak, but shoot every one of her coworkers? Let all of the criminals out? Was she strong enough to do this? To betray Ivy? This was going to end badly for her. What if Arthur was just staging this, to get her to return to him, only to kill her once she did?

"Look at me." Arthur demanded. Her eyes snapped open and she stared up at him, towering over her. Even though his hands were still shackled behind his back, he definitely had every ounce of power in this room.

"You are still not obeying me. You still think you have a choice. That's going to end. Once and for all, I will show you that I've owned you ever since you sucked my cock in your dingy little apartment." He said in an ominous tone. Then he spit on her pussy and sneered. "There, that's what you can use to finish yourself. Now. Show me."

The utterly degrading act caused Harley to cry again, but she used his spit to rub herself to completion, biting in her upper-arm again to muffle her cries of pleasure. Then she fell back and panted heavily. Even though the peak was supposed to relax her, her entire body was on edge to the fullest, since Arthur was pacing around now.

"Good girl. Bret? Put your gun on the table, in front of dr. Quinzell. Doctor, pull your skirt down and take off your labcoat, before sitting down. You won't need it anymore."

Bret and Harley both did as he asked, Harley's cheeks red with shame. She had totally forgotten Bret's presence. But that wasn't what embarrassed her. It was the knowledge that he could ask anything of her at this point. Not only did he know how to play and manipulate her sexual demons, he WAS her sexual demon. Ivy gave her warmth, stability and a loving home. Arthur satisfied all of her sexual desire and gave her passion and fire. She wanted both. Why did she have to choose?

"Why wouldn't I need my labcoat anymore?" Harley asked in a shaky voice, laying her coat on the table.

With a little smirk, Arthur sat down on his chair again. "First stand up and use the key in your coat to take off my cuffs. Then sit down again and listen to me." He ordered her.

With trembling hands, Harley did as she was told, afraid of what was going to come next. But by his confident state, she could tell that he had something big on her. It was best to keep him on her side as long as she could. If he was still on her side at all. While she sat down, she quickly fixed her bra and blouse as well.

Once he was free, he rubbed his wrists, moving them around freely with a smug face. Then he lighted a cigarette and leaned his elbow on the table, taking an occasional drag while staring at her.

"Why don't I need my labcoat anymore, Arthur?" Harley asked again, getting more and more anxious. "Because I told you to shoot everyone. Bret gave you his gun. You may start any minute now, doctor." He answered in a mocking tone. The mocking was a turn off and Harley scoffed. "Like hell I am."

Again Arthur took a drag from his cigarette. The smoke clung to him, as if he was a dragon ready to breathe fire.

"Did you know about Arkham's new policy? To tape therapy sessions? Other doctors watch the tapes later to see if they can better the patient's therapy." He said casually, as if their entire sexual encounter didn't just happen.

"Tape therapy sessions? What does that have to do with us? Why are you telling me this?" Harley asked, getting agitated with him. But part of her already knew what he was getting at and a knot started to form in her stomach.

With a smirk and a nod, Arthur gestured at the ceiling. Harley followed his gaze and saw a brand new security camera, hanging from it, taping them.

"It's not very state of the art, I've heard that not all the tapes have sound." He said innocently. Harley turned back to him with a glare. "What the fuck did you do?!" She demanded to know.

"All the tapes that were made of us, I've had my men make copies. There are copies with sound and copies without sound out there. So. If I decide to give out the tapes with sound, they will know exactly how we're involved and that you are complicit to everything I did so far. They'll also see every dirty little thing we've done in here. If I decide to show them the tapes without sound...they'll just think you're a sexual deviant that abuses her patients. Either way, you'll be fucking ruined. I've erased the very last part of your little alter ego, dr. Quinzell." He whispered, staring at her intently.

The way he spoke of it, made it sound as if Harleen Quinzell was Harley's alter ego and not the other way around. She couldn't hide anymore. He took everything from her. John made her go back to him as a patient, was the first thought that popped into her mind. Vicky caused John to decide that. Ivy treated her too sweet, there was no excitement and that caused her to go back to Arthur...every person in her life got a certain amount of blame as Harley tried to figure out what she was going to to do to save what was left of her life.

At first, Arthur snickered softly, but his laughter got louder and louder and louder...

...until something snapped.

Harley let out a howling shriek of frustration, clawing at the gun on the table. She cocked it and and shot Bret through his neck, leaving the man to sink to his feet while he choked on his own blood. Then she scrambled to her feet and kicked him out of the way, before hurrying out of the room.

A few orderlies that heard the gun go off hurried into the hallway, but Harley swiftly knocked them out by landing a few carefully kicks in their faces. Once they were down on the ground, she broke their necks with her foot. Good thing that she spent a lot of time practicing her moves in that gym, she thought for a moment, before rushing into John's office.

"Harleen...what...what's going on?" John asked her wide-eyed as he stood up, shaking. "It's Harley, you gross fuck!" She whispered before shooting him through his left eye.

By now Vicky started to scream at the top of her lungs. Harley glared at her and realized that she was probably here to convince John to fire her.

Harley looked at her, scared to her core, screaming for help...and felt for her.

"I am going to keep my eye on you. If you don't leave that fuck up within the next week, I am going to come for you, you hear? Cause if you don't start living for yourself, you might as well be dead." She whispered to her and left the room. Vicky sank to her knees, softly sniffling and whimpering.

Quickly she made her way through the asylum, opening doors where she could, shooting whomever got in her way. By now it was clear who was working for joker. His spies stayed out of her way, so they'd survive.

Some of them were starting fires all over the building, adding to the chaos and pandemonium. Harley didn't care. She didn't care who survived or not. All she knew that she was done following rules, she was done being someone's puppet, she was just fucking done.

Meanwhile Joker was skipping through the building, leaving bloody footprints all over the hallways. He laughed loudly, his hands clasped behind his back. "Harleeeeeey...I'm coming for you...better hide yourself, little Red riding Hood..." He singsonged.

"Fuck you! Stay away from me!" She shrieked when she heard it, shooting her gun in the air a few times. When she ran out of bullets, she threw it in a guard's face with a growl of frustration.

More and more guards started to surround them and by now, she could no longer see the difference between Joker's henchmen and the real staff of the asylum. She fought them off as well as she could, finding a new surge of energy from every angry thought that crossed her mind. But one of them suddenly threw a bag over her head and sedated her, causing her to collapse in his arms. Meanwhile all the alarms were blaring and her entire world was on fire.

There were sounds around her. She was being moved. Slowly, the world started to appear again, her vision returning to her and becoming less and less blurry. She could make out a mirror, across the room. Her make up was smeared all over her face, her mascara left streaks under her eyes and her lipstick was spread over her cheeks. Her hair looked like she was electrocuted, strands of hair almost standing up straight in some places. In front of her was a table, behind that a single chair. She noticed that this looked like a therapy room, like in Arkham. She tried to move but noticed that she was wearing a straight jacket and her feet where shackled to the chair she sat on.

The only door in the room opened and Arthur entered. He wore a pair of black jeans and a gray long-sleeved shirt. Over that, a white labcoat. One of the sleeves was drenched in blood and the underside of it had blood-spatter on it. He sat across from Harley and opened a file. There were pictures in it, took when she was knocked out, Harley noticed. There was also writing in the file, no doubt scribbled down by Arthur himself.

"Well, well, well, miss Quinn. You had quite the afternoon, haven't you? But you are safe now. I'm going to heal you. I'm doctor Fleck." He said in a soft and soothing voice.

"Fuck you. Let me go." Harley rasped, feeling her anger rise inside of her.

"Never..." Arthur answered and lit a cigarette. As Harley started to freak out in front of him, cussing him out, crying, cursing his name, Arthur softly sang to himself.

"That's life...that's what all the people say...

You're riding high in April...shot down in May...

But I know I'm gonna change that tune...

When I'm back on top, back on top in June..."