Another Side of Him

This was supposed to be a draft, haha. Really mixed this chapter up… read and then read the explanation at the end; it'll all make sense then:')

She squirmed as he slid her panties down. He pinned her down harder, applying what would have been far too much force. She yelped at how his elbow dug into her lower back, but thinking it was because of what his other hand was doing, the Joker only pushed down harder.

Smoothly, he removed her panties. Admiring her bare behind; he was in complete control. He loved that.

"Please…" a feeble voice whimpered from beneath him. She still shuddered with every word that passed her lips. She begged him: "please don't. I don't want it to be like this…"

"Oh but doll, you've had your fair share of punishment now," he reassured her softly. This time, he didn't run his fingers through her hair in the same comforting way he had done before. No - this was all on his terms.

"But this is punishment!" the helpless girl cried out.

"Atata!" he corrected. "This is not punishment, it's pleasure."

"Jack no…"

Now her voice was barely a whisper. Her rear still a deep, bruised shade of red, she was completely at his mercy. Entirely vulnerable, and partially naked. Not that he cared. If anything, the Joker wanted to pleasure her. She had such a cute little voice… he'd wanted to hear a moan escape her lips since they day he'd kidnapped her from the bank. When she'd moaned before, it had been from the sheer pain. But now… now it would be a proper moan. 'And given at my own hands…'

Without further hesitation, he slipped his fingers into her entrance. She wasn't at all wet.

"Oh doll… I really turn you off don't I?" he remarked, pulling his moistureless fingertips from her inside and showing them to her. "I'll have to see if I can make you change your mind, eh?"

Entering her again with only one finger, she suddenly felt at ease. He was right. It was going to be gentle. She might even enjoy it. If not for -

Slowly and carefully, the Joker began to glide his fingers in and out of her gradually wetting entrance. He wanted her to be comfortable before he put anything more inside her.

Without knowing it, he brushed her g-spot. Instantly, she let out a moan. She chastised herself for being so aroused by such a dangerous man. How could she surrender to him? No. She had to refuse him.

"Jack, stop." Leila tried to sound serious, but her breath was already heavy with satisfaction. The Joker easily picked up on that.

"Aw… my cute little girly hostage trying to sound all macho," he giggled, twirling his fingers in and around her vulva. "But she can't be all serious when she's in so much pleasure…"

She was wet enough now. Her kidnapper slipped two fingers, then three fingers into her, with every pulse of his hand another sensation triggered. Leila began to involuntarily moan with every touch, every pull and every thrust of the hand. Soon, he began to feel her little entrance begin to tremble around his hands. Faster he worked, her little heart racing, her blood pulsing around her entire body. Moaning louder, breathing harder, her entrance tightened around his hand, her whole body tensing for several seconds, before slumping (spent) over his lap.

The Joker let her lie there. He wanted her to take in every sensation. He wanted her to relish just how good he made her feel. He wanted her to want him. He wanted her to lie there sore, but still begging for him to continue. Removing his hands from his entrance, he couldn't help but admire his work: his fingers were soaked: she had loved every second.

Suddenly a voice that was now no more than a breath drifted up to him. "Never do something like that again…"

He coughed gruffly, smacking his lips in confusion. "Ahem - what?"

"Never force me into something like that again, Jack…"

The Joker couldn't believe it. He had done that for her own enjoyment. How dare she not be grateful?! How dare she not beg for more?! It infuriated him. He flung her off her knee, tossing her onto her back: panties and skirt still round her ankles.

"How dare you?!" he bellowed, still in a form of nasally Joker-drawl.

"What do you mean…?" his poor hostage stammered. She lay on her back on the floor, watching a maniacal man pace around the room. Again, she found herself fear for her life. She was only a young woman. She was lying semi-naked on the floor of a hotel in the middle of nowhere with a murdering mob-boss who she had just insulted. Was there any way he wouldn't choose to kill her?

"All of this? This was for your benefit!" He continued to pace around the room, confused by everything. "I could've taken you home, but no, I wanted you to be safe. I wanted you to feel safe. I wanted you to trust me. I wanted you to overlook what everyone in this goddamn city thinks I am, and see me as a person, but no, all you can think is that 'a homicidal lunatic' just made you feel so good and how it turns your stomach that you could let yourself feel that way, right?"

She'd never seen him like this. What he said… It made sense. This wasn't the way of a lunatic. He seemed like a normal man. A normal man that couldn't understand why nobody understood him… Something that everyone has experienced, really.

But she didn't respond. He marched over to her, standing over her body, bending over and grabbing her shoulders to shake them. He shook her quite violently: that strength that she always feared. He shook her until she cried. This wasn't what he wanted: she was begging for him to stop, not for him to continue.

"Please, Jack… Please…" murmured the battered girl from beneath him.

Suddenly, he snapped into consciousness. First he saw his hands gripping her pale skin until it burnt black and blue. Then he saw the face of such a beautiful, delicate thing… It was crying, it's cheeks flushed it's expression strained. Finally he heard it's voice. Faint and pained, it was begging him to let her be.

The Joker, too, collapsed onto the floor. He collapsed next to her in an equally as little heap, sobbing persistently. It was a strange sensation, watching someone so dangerous cry. Although his voice was that of a man's, his little sobs and sniffs were thin and weak. To Leila, he sounded like a hurt child. Somehow she felt like his mother.

Without knowing (or understanding) what she was doing, she wrapped her arms around the small bundle beside her. She shushed him, stroked his hair, held him to her as best she could. He was such a tall man and she was so small, but he found comfort in her.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart… I'm so sorry… I didn't mean to hurt you… I didn't mean to…"

Again, she found herself saying something she didn't really mean. "It's okay, sh…" she murmured into his hair. His face was nestled under his chin and into her neck. Her skin was so smooth, he noted. His breath was so warm against her cool frame. He wrapped his arms around her waist; never wanting her to let go.

—

She watched over him the entire night; not getting a single moment of sleep. Leila held him in that same position until he fell asleep. Then, she had wriggled out of his arms and crept to the bed, pulling the duvet off and draping it over him. Now, she sat on the duvet-less bed, watching his little twitches in sleep. Occasionally he would pull a childish 'scared' or 'upset' face and mumble something into the sheets, but he would soon return to peaceful sleep. 'Good.'

Somehow, she didn't want him to hurt.

Hope you guys enjoyed this, like I said, really mixed this up: started with touchy-feely etc (thought you guys might want that, idk, let me know about all that jazz hehe). But I ended this chapter on a sadder note. Wanted to show a different side to the Joker: the more 'human' side. Also wanted to show how the pair are starting to care for eachother… Hopefully next chapters won't be as fuzzy:') Will try and make him more typical Joker next few times, again hope you guys enjoyed:) x

p.s didn't read this through for mistakes, sorry