A loud slam startled me awake. A quick glance at my phone revealed it was nearly 4am. I groaned, and rubbed my eyes. Though it had woken me from a dead sleep, I'd heard that sound enough to be very familiar with it; the front door.

"What the fuck...dude, it's 4am!" I called out, my voice hoarse from sleep. I waited for the apology that always followed when one of them didn't bother stopping the door from swinging shut. I wasn't sure which one had forgotten something and come back, but whoever it was was gonna get an earful.

My sleepy, THC addled brain eventually registered that there was no answer. I frowned.

"Steve? Chris?" Silence.

Feeling suddenly apprehensive, I almost threw the sheets off before remembering I'd gone to bed in just a towel...a towel that was now off and tangled somewhere in my blankets.

I cursed, and looked towards my wide open bedroom door. Though the brilliant thought of "keep the door open so you can hear any intruders" occurred to me, what I didn't plan for was what I would do in the event that someone actually did break in.

However, as the time ticked on, my frenzied, panicked thoughts began to calm. It had been a while - or, so my brain thought anyway - and I hadn't heard anything. Not a creak, not a footstep...not a breath.

My apartment was ANYTHING but soundproof...I could hear the boys when they turned over in their beds, even with all doors closed.

If there was an intruder, I'd have heard something by now...right? Why would they loudly slam the door just to sit in silence in the apartment? They would have tried to be quiet the entire time, wouldn't they?

Without much thought, I once again called out.

"Hello? Is someone there?" A giggle sounded.

No, not from the creepy darkness that I was speaking to...but from my own throat, thinking of the asinine thing I had just done. The one thing I bitch and moan about in all the horror movies I love to watch so much.

The killer is waiting in the shadows, and I think he's going to answer me? My giggle erupted into full on laughter, and I raked my fake nails through my hair, the sensation pleasantly heightened from my intoxication. My high, which I decided at this point was clearly the reason for my paranoia.

I considered going back to sleep, before a wistful thought entered my head.

What if it had been...him...who had entered my apartment? I closed my eyes and started imagining it, a slow smile creeping onto my face.

Why not? It was clearly the neighbour's door that had slammed so aggressively, but that didn't mean I couldn't...pretend...it was mine.

The heat pooling in my nether regions told me that my body was very, very agreeable to the solo role-play that was about to occur. Biting my lip, I exhaled shakily, and flicked on my bedside light. After locating my towel and wrapping it securely around myself, I turned around, and, with trepidation, repeated myself.

"Is...is there someone there?"

Tightening my hold on my towel, I left my room.

I began the search. Despite it being a three bedroom, the apartment was not that big, so I really had to drag it out. The imagined feeling of eyes watching me had goosebumps traveling up my arms.

"He-hello?" My voice was timid, my hand tightly gripping the front of my towel. I made a big show of turning on lights and looking in cupboards that would have been too small to hide a grown person. It wasn't a good search...I giggled briefly at the thought of how easily a real intruder could evade me with such a sluggish, sloppy search. But, hey...there wasn't actually anyone here, so it didn't matter.

My small giggle turned into shivers, ones I didn't even instigate. Whew...my body was really responding to those imagined eyes.

Finally, I turned towards the front door, my intent being on looking through the peephole, then lurching back in feigned surprise at the pair of intense, black eyes staring back at me...

What I did see, however, had my fast-beating heart momentarily stopping, before resuming a violent pounding in my throat.

The door, which had been locked upon Chris' departure, was no longer so. The chain, which I had not used, was slightly swinging.

A roaring sounded in my ears. What was happening? There's no way I was imagining this...

So many thoughts were swimming through my head...anger, terror, regret...why did I eat that fucking edible? Maybe the door was never locked? Maybe someone entered, realized it wasn't their apartment and then slammed the door as they left? I don't know how long I stared at the door, contemplating, trying to remember to breathe before a voice behind me interrupted my feverish thoughts.

"Well hello there."

Ice traveled through my veins, from the tips of my toes all the way to my scalp. Every inch of my skin began to crawl. Momentarily, I was frozen, completely unable to move.

"Oh come on now, don't be shy...it's not every day I get to meet such a...dedicated...fann-uh."

Fuck me...there was NO mistaking that speech pattern.

As if gravity itself was pulling me, I slowly turned to face him.

My chest felt like a vacuum. The breath was literally sucked from my lungs.

He was unmistakable. That purple suit, the wild green hair...his white face paint practically glowed, and his eyes resembled black pits. That smile and...oh damn, those fucking scars.

Was this a dream? Was it a hallucination? I'd imagined him in front of me so many times before, had I finally driven myself to just...snap?

He cocked his head at me, and extended his arms out, his lips stretching in a menacing grin.

"Tadaaaaaa." He said softly, wiggling his hands in a 'jazz hands' motion. His grin widened into a large smile when he took in my expression, which I realized at that moment probably resembled a gaping fish. I snapped my mouth shut and gulped.

"I uh...um...are- are you...uh..." His eyes narrowed slightly, then flicked to the side momentarily, before landing back on me. He leaned his head in slightly, as if my inability to speak were confusing him.

"How...um...is...uh-are um...are you...real?" Talking was truly a chore at this point...it felt like I had just run a marathon.

He rolled his eyes to the top of his head and kept them there, as if in contemplation. He even started sucking on his front tooth, really giving a thoughtful impression.

"Hmmmm..."

He cocked his head sideways, and lowered his eyes to mine, looking like some, weird, demented bird of prey.

It must have been the effects of the edible, or my shock, because I honestly did not even see him move. One moment, he was staring at me like a creepy, carnivorous chicken, and the next...I was pinned up against the wall, both his hands on either side of my head.

"Do I uh...feel real?" The question was asked so lowly, almost in a growl. His smell was overbearing...gasoline, makeup and...French fries? Did his breath actually smell like French fries?

Another cold shiver shot through me at this new development.

If I were imagining this...would French fries really be part of that? Why would my brain include such a detail?

A choked sob escaped my throat, and I squeezed my eyes shut as I turned my head to the side. I heard a rattle, and my eyes snapped open just in time to see him slide the chain into place. I followed his fingers, watching as they found the dead lock, and gulped as he turned it.

Deceptively soft, his gloved fingers then traveled to my chin, and tilted it up to meet his gaze.

"Just in case you uh, get a little loud...we don't want anyone, in-ter-upting us, do we?" He raised his eyebrows at me, as if expecting me to agree.

I prayed the fear I felt was not reflected in my gaze. However, when a soft click sounded next to my ear, I jumped, and sharply inhaled.

Oh God...I knew what that was. Though no sharp edge contacted my skin, a barely suppressed sob still managed to find its way out of my mouth.

He started cooing at me, his condescension practically dripping off him.

"Oh sh-sh-sh-sh...none of that now." His hands framed my face, his pocketknife digging in slightly, dangerously close to my eye.

"We don't want you making too much noise before we can take this to the bedroom, hm? Your uh, neighbour...might get the wrong idea." He punctuated this sentence with a swipe of his tongue, and his face held an expression of mock concern. He said it to me so reasonably, like he was explaining something simple to a fucking child. Though I can't say his words calmed me, his tone certainly stunned me into silence.

"Mmmm, good girl...much smarter than your uh, other, neighbour." My eyes widened. It was only then I'd absorbed the weight of his comment on only one of my neighbours overhearing. I opened my mouth to ask what he'd done, but nothing would come out. He flashed me a devilish grin, before gripping me hard by the neck and roughly pulling me off the wall. Just as aggressively, he pushed me towards my room.

"Lead the way doll face." I scowled slightly. He could clearly see where my room was. The slight irritation I felt however was heavily overshadowed with my terror, so, on shaky legs, I took a step forward. It was then I remembered that I donned nothing but a towel.

A very short towel at that.

Nervously, I tightened my already white knuckled grip on the front and attempted to pull the towel down my thighs with the other, praying that somehow, the material would become stretchy.

It did nothing but earn me a chuckle.

"I uh, have to say...I like the outfi-t." I shuddered, suddenly finding my feet very big, and awkward to walk with. "Perfect for..." he clucked his tongue, "looking, for intruders."

There was a mirthful tone to his voice, which had my face flaming. Fuck, he'd watched me "search" the apartment...God knows what I'd looked like doing that.

Part of me was still hoping this was nothing but a bad dream...a feeling severely amplified when I felt something wet trickle down one of my legs. My entire body flushed, but before I could try and hide my shame, he giggled.

Hysterically.

"Oops! Looks- looks like I may have scared ya a little, too much...ahahaHAHA!" His giggles erupted into full psychotic laughter, as if he just told a hilariously funny joke. Utterly humiliated, I used his momentary distraction to grab a t shirt from my laundry hamper and wipe up the evidence of my fear.

However,...when I wiped, I realized two things; one, I was very, very, slick...two, I was swollen and sensitive. Only then did I feel the intense, steady pulsating emanating from between my legs.

Oh...oh no. Oh my fucking hell.

Horrified, I realized that no, I had not pissed myself in fear...I had soaked myself in arousal.

I stared, appalled, at the area between my legs. I don't know how long I glared at myself in betrayal before I heard a throat clear.

"Are uh...you expecting something else to come outta there?" His voice startled me, and I yelped.

He seemed almost more surprised than I did when I leapt away from him, having not really reacted so much since he made his presence known. My hand holding the towel was shaking, and the hand holding the t shirt was pressing hard in my crotch, desperate to protect it. Though, if I'm being honest...such a firm pressure did NOTHING to ease my arousal.

His eyes dropped to the t shirt, and surprise quickly gave way to glee.

"Ooooo...did uh...someone's, uh, aunt flow...come a little eeeearlyyy?" He licked his lips excitedly, and somewhere in the back of my mind I briefly wondered...how did he know my menstrual cycle?

However, with more pressing matters at hand - like the knife he'd begun waving at me - I did not dwell on the question.

"We love that time of month." He said excitedly, referring to him and his switchblade.

"Thee uh...extra blood reaaallly makes things...fun." Once again, the last word was spoken in a growl, and though I'd been able to blissfully ignore the feeling up until this point, now that I knew what my body was doing, I couldn't lie to myself.

This whole situation was turning me on.

Every movement, every word, every threat...sent an angry pulse to my loins which demanded satisfaction.

It must be the edible. I comforted myself. No way I'd be turned on if I wasn't severely intoxicated. That's all this was.

He took one menacing step towards me, and I backed away, the back of my knees pressing against the bed.

Fuck.

"Please..." I begged him, pressing the shirt more firmly into me. The pulsing got worse, and I had to bite my lip to prevent a moan. I guess he took this as confirmation of my bleeding, because he grinned, and gestured to the shirt.

"Come on now...don't leave me in suspense...show me what you're hiding." His eyes were glued to my crotch, and when he finished speaking, they cut back up to mine. He flicked his tongue over his lips, and another groan almost escaped me.

Yeah...no more edibles for me.

I shook my head and clutched my protection tighter to me. Fuck, I was getting close...if I just started moving my hips...

He took another step.

"Either you get rid of them...or I do...period." He started giggling maniacally at his own joke, and a small whimper managed to escape me. My hand had lightly started to grind, and my breath was becoming nothing more than shudders. God, I was right there...

Once again, I never saw him move. I don't know if he's got some sort of talent where he chooses to strike when his victim blinks, but next thing I knew, I was on my bed flat on my back, him on top with the knife pressed against my throat.

Unfortunately, this position meant his groin was very roughly pushing the t shirt into me...and almost of their own accord, my hips began moving, the feeling of being kept on the edge apparently too much. Any logical thought dissipated as the pleasure started blooming, and my frantic hip movements, which I'd love to say were nothing more than an attempt to get him off me, grinded my pussy against him until I was completely undone.

I came; hard.

"Oh fuck...oh FUCK...OH FUCK!" My voice raised to a shriek, and I rode out my orgasm, bucking jerkily and desperately beneath him. My hands clamped onto his arms, and my legs locked firmly around his waist, wordlessly begging for more contact. Completely lost in sensation, I lost all control of my body, and my brain momentarily clicked off.

Unfortunately, I had to come back to reality; and when I did, that meant facing the man I'd just wantonly dry humped myself into conniptions on.

My eyes slowly drifted open, absolutely terrified at what I might see.

He was staring at me, a very amused expression on his face.

"Well-uh...that, was unexpected."

My face burned, and I threw my arm over my face. Did I just fucking do that?

Suddenly, I was very aware that my towel, which I'd tried so hard to keep secured around me, had not stayed so during my orgasm.

No...no no no no no this could not be happening. How was this happening? Who did I just...oh God...who the fuck was this guy?

I removed my arm, and averted my ashamed gaze to the side, not knowing what to do. This was obviously not the Joker...but...

My thoughts were quickly interrupted when my eyes zeroed in on the wall, and my breath hitched.

There it was, my pride and joy...a framed, life-sized picture of The Joker. It was the scene in the movie where he's in the jail cell, sitting on the bench, legs open...

Yeah, you get the idea. As far as Joker pictures went, that one was basically the centerfold.

He curiously followed my gaze, and I felt his whole body freeze.

"Oh my."

Mortified...doesn't seem like a strong enough word to describe the feeling swelling inside of me.

He turned his head back to me, eyes burning into mine. Painfully slow, he inched his head down to mine, seeming to go slower with every heaving breath I took. His scars...they looked so...real. Like someone had actually carved his face open. He came closer and closer, and finally I stopped breathing altogether, bracing for contact.

Only when he was an inch from my lips, did he switch course, and place his lips on my ear.

"Let's see what other...incriminating...items I might find, hm?" I shivered at his tone, and though he said nothing, when he got up, I dared not move. Every instinct in me told me to run, but the look he gave me...I knew moving was not a wise decision.

However, as he turned his back to me, I decided to at least get somewhat comfortable. I sat up, and quickly drew my covers around my naked form.

Though he did cut his eyes to me in warning, he said nothing. I felt a small pang of relief.

Agonizing; that's the most fitting word for what it felt like to have him peruse my room. Every drawer, every shelf, every item of clothing...I didn't realize the insane amount of Joker paraphernalia I had until it was being scrutinized by the man himself.

Or...whoever this man was.

Three pictures, five posters, three hats, eight t shirts, six figurines...there seemed no end to all the knick knacks I had collected over the years. My Joker pez dispenser gave him a good laugh.

"This uh...isn't me." He waved the depiction of Mark Hamill's Joker in front of me, before flicking the head up and using his mouth to remove one of the orange candies I'd put in there.

You're not you, is what I wanted to say. As it was, I simply shrugged.

"That was the only option." My voice sounded so...casual? My God, the post orgasm bliss mixed with the THC was really messing with me. My blood froze however, when he circled the bed and went to my night table.

Oh bloody fuck.

Not only was my laptop there...but so was the toy. The special toy, which also just happened to be purple.

He picked it up and cocked an eyebrow at me.

"How 'bout a magic trick?" Heat pooled in my lower regions, and I contracted my vaginal muscles reflexively. My breath hitched, and I shook my head vigorously. No, despite what my body thought, I did NOT want him to make THAT disappear...

My cunt throbbed in blatant disagreement.

He said nothing but seemed amused by my inner turmoil.

Then he gestured to the laptop.

"Open it."

Panic flashed through me. I was the only one who used my laptop...I never bothered to delete any of my browser history. Before I could hide it, he saw my perturbation, and smirked darkly.

Fuck. That gaze was killer. At that moment I was very thankful my lower extremities were completely covered by my duvet.

Though I knew it would do absolutely nothing, I still gave him a pleading look.

"Please...don't." He just looked at me.

I mean, I say just...but there was a LOT behind that look. So much promise of so many things he could do to me...a look that screamed utter control and domination. A look that literally said "I can kill you." I was completely terrified.

And...yes...I was also incredibly, painfully, turned on. I could feel myself soaking my sheets.

Without further instruction, I grabbed the laptop from my night table, and hit the space bar. While I waited for the screen to boot up to request my password, he said,

`"You know...you should really get a lap desk. Laptops overheat really easily, ya know. If you uh, don't give the fan adequate circulation then you'll end up frying the thing."

I stopped entering my password and stared at him. What? Was this guy...actually giving me computer advice? What the fuck?

He smirked at my gob smacked expression and gestured to the laptop.

"Wellll-uh? Show me what you're so eager, to hide from me." His tongue swiped his lips, and he grinned, causing another pulse in my loins. I swallowed hard and finished entering my password. When I went to hand him the laptop, he shook his head, that evil, shit eating grin still on his face.

"Nuh uh...you show me."

My breath hitched in a quick moment of hope; he was making me do it? Perhaps I could just show him my extensive picture collection of him, and that would be the end of it? I had 12 GB worth of Joker photos I'd taken off the internet, maybe he'd buy that that's what I was so scared of him finding...I mean, compared to what I was really hiding it was nothing, but it could still be considered embarrassing…

I was broken out of my reverie when my bed dropped, and my breathing once again became frantic when I saw he was crawling towards me. Ignoring every instinct in my soul to scoot away, I stayed where I was, back against the headboard. He kept crawling until his hands were straddling my thighs, and his French fry breath was once again washing over my face.

"I'm gonna find eeee-verything you have on there, sweetheart." The last word was practically spit out of his mouth, and he slowly crept in closer, this time pressing his forehead to mine. "Do you uh...really, want to make this harder than it has to be?" He spoke so low, the growling tone making me whimper. He had to know the effect he had on me.

I closed my eyes and shook my head, and I felt his forehead leave mine as he slipped his mouth around to my ear.

"Then uh...I suggest you do what you're fucking told." The sentence, which had started off in a very light tone, ended in a dark, menacing snarl.

Y'all, I fucking creamed myself.

He backed away from me, sitting cross legged. I couldn't help another flash of irritation when I saw he was still wearing his shoes, on my bed. However, I obviously said nothing.

I took a deep breath and clicked on my internet browser. Perhaps I could delete the really embarrassing searches before he saw...

"Nuh uhh..." He said again, this time a sing song tone to his voice. "Turn around so everyone can see."

Well, fuck.

Though it was far from easy all wrapped up in the duvet, I did manage to swing my body around, so my back was facing him, and he had a full view of the laptop. His amusement at my struggle was palpable...but I refused to drop the duvet, like he so clearly wanted.

I took a deep, shaky breath, and opened my list of bookmarks. He asked me what they were.

I couldn't help stammering.

"I-um...I...uh..." His hot breath on my shoulder was making it difficult to think.

"They're...uh-um...they're, stories...about you." I barely got the last word out, every utterance requiring a huge effort. Why was it so fucking difficult to breathe?

"Hmmm...and uh...what, pray tell, are these stories...abou-t?" I felt a slight amount of spittle on my shoulder from his accentuated 't'. He was quite close to me.

My face was so hot. Shame and embarrassment was boiling through my veins, and when I spoke it came out in a whine.

"Please...can't you just read them?" He hummed, as if giving it some actual thought.

"Hmmm...no...no, no no no no no no...no I'd rather hear you tell me."

I thought him seeing my laptop would be the worst thing...but this? He wanted me to physically TELL him what I wanted him to do to me? I had to tell him about my dirty little fantasies, revealing to him what dark, depraved stories about him got me off?

Fuck why was I so turned on by this?

I closed my eyes and tried in vain to take a deep breath.

"They're um...uh...erm...sex, stories." Though I knew he wouldn't, I did so hope he'd just leave it there.

A sharp stab in my spine brought me back to reality; it didn't break skin, but it was a reminder of who I was dealing with.

"Okay-OKAY! FUCK." My nails dug into my knees, and I tried to relax my extremely tense shoulders. I leaned forward, exhaled deeply, then sat back up, raking my nails through my hair.

His breath on me never wavered, though I sensed a deep feeling of amusement radiating off him. He was having way too much fun tormenting me.

And I was having way too much fun being tormented.

"I-erm...there's uh...one...in particular...that-um, uh...it's from the-the reader's, point of view..." I swallowed thickly, my brain scrambling for the words, "normally, I don't really, enjoy...that perspective, but um...this one, just, uh..." is REALLY fucking hot was my first thought, but I sure as SHIT was not gonna say that.

"...is...is erm...quite...intense."

I waited, stupidly hoping he'd say something to indicate I could stop.

His silence spoke volumes.

Shaky breath in, shaky breath out.

"Um...there's this...uh, this girl...the-the reader...and she, uh...meets The Joker - you - in the streets, after a uh...erm...Halloween, party." I freeze here, not exactly sure how I want to continue. I decide to try and skip over all the intimate details.

"It's, uh...well, basically it's um, a bunch of...one shot stories where, after meeting her, you just...can't...stay away." My breath caught. FUCK this was so embarrassing. "You just...keep, coming back for her, and eventually you just...take her back to your hideout, and...well, just, fucktheshitouttaherwheneveryouwant." The last words came out in a jumbled mess, and, though I hadn't wanted to get vulgar in my descriptions, I do believe that last part likely saved me from another painful poke...one that probably would have been more damaging than the previous one.

"Tell me, doll face...what do these, scenarios, entail e-xa-ct-lyyyyy-uh?" His finger traced over my shoulder blade, and I shuddered.

"You want me to love you? Bring you flowers, chocolates, and ah, one day, start a faaaamilyyy?" His voice was strained and high pitched...as if he were trying to repress laughter. I imagine he probably was.

"No. No, not at all."

Though my brain tried to ignore his mocking tone, my body was practically begging for more. My voice got breathier, and I was hit with a sudden surge of bravery.

Fuck it...he was probably gonna kill me anyway...why not tell him what I wanted? Maybe I'd have an enjoyable death.

Yep. See, this is why I never went on Craigslist. No fucking control when it came to him. Even if it wasn't really him.

Being able to avoid his gaze definitely helped strengthen my resolve. I closed my eyes and slightly tilted my head back, envisioning the words I was speaking.

"You...you watch her...stalk her...follow her...she can't do anything without you seeing. Then, you appear out of nowhere and just...fucking...dominate her." A delicious thrill traveled through me.

"She resists you at first, of course, but...you're just too...fucking...good." I let out a slightly breathy laugh on the word fucking, but did not stop, even though I swear I could feel his unwavering breath on me finally hitch.

"You-you pretend to not be affected...so in control, all the fucking time. But...she gets to you. You love it when you get her off. She likes the pain, and you love giving it to her...but, you balance it out, with just as much pleasure. You get her off more times than she can handle."

My eyes were still squeezed shut, no longer resisting the urge to apply pressure to my cunt, which was absolutely fucking soaked by this point. I almost didn't care if he saw me start grinding into the duvet.

Almost.

"You're...um...fuck..." I cut off a moan before it could leave my lips, the bottom one caught firmly between my teeth. My God, I had no fucking control over my body...

I opened my eyes, and my last sentence was barely more than a groan.

"You get off on sexual torture just as much as regular torture."

There. I said it. I got it all out. Now I waited for him to speak.

And boy...did he make me wait.