Chapter 7: Act of Vengeance
A/N: I'm so happy that I'm finally updating this story again after so long but this has been the longest time I've spent writing/editing a single chapter. It literally took me a little over a month to pump this out. Maybe it's because I've been so busy in my daily life or my brain's just scattered at the moment, who knows. Anyways enjoy!
In the end, you entrusted your apartment key to Josh, instructing him to look after it in your absence. He was quite confused and it had taken quite a lot to convince him that nothing was amiss with you, only that you were taking a trip and would be back in a few days. You could understand his concern. In his defense, it wasn't exactly easy to abate his concerns about you when snooping led to him finding a gun in your nightstand. You simply told him that you'd grown afraid for your safety and somewhat apprehensive about living alone as a woman.
From there you set out on your way back to the very city you dreaded. The drive back to Gotham was made entirely in silence as you spent most of it internally debating whether or not you want to actually go through with what you've planned. For all your mental grappling, both make sense and neither outweigh the other. By now, you've been up for a day and a half, fueled purely by energy drinks, anger and emotional damage to the point where the three are the only things that drive your body to function.
At the very least, you need to be capable of making rational decisions even in your wronged, vengeful state. In your mind, you're being perfectly rational about your decision.
No matter how your brain tries to rationalize every bit and piece of it, it has to be acknowledged that you were actively in the process of carrying out a murder plot. A murder plot against a crime boss in the most notorious city, a city that was completely under his control. So it went without saying that you needed to act more on logic rather than emotion. You couldn't afford to fail.
And now, you have to reflect on what sort of person you've become to resort to this. Not once in your life had you ever wanted to take another person's life. Truthfully, it was a shame that you even had to resort to such an option. Perhaps the saddest part was that you know that there are other women out there that had been in your shoes and had to resort to the same thing. Having to deal and make hard decisions regarding a man who was set on destroying their life. And you sympathized with the women - people like The Joker deserved to get what was coming to them.
Admittedly, there were many times where you attempted to wrack your brain for reasons not to actually go through with it but as the past events with him flashed heavily within your mind, you became that much more determined to carry it out.
After what happened at the police station, you were convinced that no one could help you but yourself. You felt backed into a corner with no means of escape. You're not a malicious or evil person, just a desperate one. But that man had to pay for the things he's done to you and any other person whose life he's ruined on a mere whim. He can't continue to be allowed to get away with the terrible things he's done. You refused to live the rest of your life in fear. You refused to spend it hiding and anxious of what he may do next.
You're not a masked or caped crusader who had the capacity and means to protect yourself in a conventional manner. You're merely a woman who's been drugged, stalked, had your privacy invaded, and been taken advantage of on multiple occasions.
You thought about what your parents and only sibling might make of your actions and how they would perceive you in the aftermath. But their opinions and potential judgment of it paled in comparison to the satisfaction you would feel with him wiped completely from existence. The Joker's very existence felt like a threat towards your person and you intended to do something about it. And now was the time to make a move and end this fucked up arrangement once and for all.
It wasn't so long ago that you vowed to never return to Gotham but here you are, back on what you deem to be a very important mission. Or more accurately, a suicide mission if things wound up going left.
The densely populated city was practically rife with crime, poverty, and political corruption. You can't imagine voluntarily choosing or being forced to make such a place your home. For that very reason, you hoped your friends would move to another city entirely. To you, Gotham was nothing but a dreary city with an element of hopelessness attached to it as well as its migrating masses that regularly walk the streets. During your initial visit, you couldn't help but notice how there was an overarching darkness attached to the city. The place can be a paradise for some but for others it could be a literal hell. Nothing about it seems clean and glamorous about the place as a whole. The city remains a cesspool for crime thanks to people like The Joker making it what it was.
Gotham was essentially an old city that was a part of its own world. One would be foolish to be dazzled by the perpetually gloomy metropolis that housed millions of civilians both rich and poor alike.
Since dusk was rapidly approaching, you decide to check into a small rundown motel near the outskirts of town. As you pull into the near empty parking lot, you put the rental in park and scan the surroundings. The large flickering neon sign displaying the name of the motel flashed overhead. Places like these are almost always situated in a remote area or along the stretch of highway.
You wanted your arrival to be as nondescript as possible. You couldn't accomplish that by staying in a hotel within the city. Even if you stood a minor chance of being spotted, you didn't want to risk it. Who knew how deep his connections ran into the city. There was no telling who he had his grip into. He couldn't know you were back in town.
Overlooking the dingy, nearly decrepit building, you hated having to settle on such a place even for a short period. You get the sense that the building hadn't been refurbished since the seventies. The only people that would consider frequenting the place would be addicts or the homeless. It certainly wasn't the type of lodging you'd ever want to frequent and as of now it only served as a place for you to regroup and carry out your plan.
Considering the fact that it was nearly dark and you probably shouldn't even be in this part of town, you literally had to look over your shoulder for any threat of lurking danger.
As you approach the front office, it's just your luck to spot a group of questionable looking men lingering around the side of the motel. Unsurprisingly, the men leer at you as you approach. You wouldn't even bother giving them the attention they craved and don't spare them a single glance to show them that you were aware of their staring. You simply didn't have time for anyone's bullshit tonight.
The sketchy check-in clerk behind the corner looked like he'd rather be anywhere but where he currently was. The expression on his face was mostly somber and indifferent. It wasn't hard to believe that he wasn't all that concerned with who checked in or walked through the doors of the derelict motel.
"Room for one. Single night." You specified.
He smelled heavily of cigarettes and beer. His shirt was at least two sizes too big and you wouldn't be surprised to learn that he dabbled in a little more than beer and cigarettes. But it really wasn't any of your business. What other people chose to do in their lives was none of your concern.
After obtaining your room key, you weren't shocked at all when the men decided to follow closely behind you on the path to your designated room.
"What about her?" You heard one of them say.
"Doesn't look like she's from here. Probably got some cash on her." Another voice pointed out.
From their poorly concealed conversations, it was rather evident that they planned to rob you of whatever possessions you had and even briefly suggested doing something worse if they could get you in the right position. It sickened you.
With it only your second time paying the city a visit, literally within minutes of touching down, you were already being plotted on by robbers. One had to marvel at Gotham City's pendant for making its presence known for both resident and visitor.
When the distance between your room grew closer and your patience had finally run out, you turned to face the group, face conveying nothing but annoyance. "Can you all stop following me? I'd really appreciate it."
It didn't make sense that you were already running into trouble like this. You can't imagine what it was like for the people who actually took up residence in the city. You'd already been assaulted by one man and you'll be damned if you let another take advantage of you again. When one of them stepped forward and you gripped the strap of your bag tighter.
"We're just making sure the pretty lady got to her room with no trouble."
"Oh please. You wouldn't care if I was laying in a ditch on the side of the road. Now leave me alone."
"Tell you what, why don't you open your purse, show us what's inside. Then maybe we'll take our leave. Deal?"
"Listen, I've had a long, not particularly interesting day. I know what you're trying to do."
"Whoa, take it easy. We're not trying to do anything. Tell you what, how about you just hand over the purse and we'll be on our way."
"Does it look like I'm fucking playing? I said leave me the fuck alone. I'm not going to ask again."
"Listen bitch-"
"Bitch? I got your bitch alright. How about we see if this is loaded or not." You say, pulling the weapon from your bag and pointing it at them.
The sheer panic on their faces realizing that you weren't as vulnerable as they believed gave you immense gratification.
"...Go ahead, try me." You insist with a smirk, your finger hovering over the trigger of the gun.
Sensing you were close to pulling that trigger, you watched with further satisfaction as the men promptly took off in the other direction.
With you no longer under threat of being robbed, you continued on down the poorly lit corridor of rooms.
Upon arriving at the room, you used the key to open the door and slip inside before utilizing all the accompanying locks to make sure the room was secure. The lights flicker on with a low buzz, the lighting more yellow in color than the expected white glare. Probably had something to do with how dim the light fixture was.
The assigned room was nothing special, of modest accommodation and furniture that made you question how old it was. The room was unsurprisingly small with dingy furniture and a thin but barely noticeable layer of dust along the ceiling fan and window frame. The only comfort was that the room looked moderately clean, having likely not been checked into for ages. There's also a pungent musty odor lingering around the majority of the space that's assaulting your nose to the extent that you have to force yourself to ignore it in order for it not to overtake you.
The coloring of the motel room mostly consisted of neutrals and wood tones and looked quite ordinary. All in all, it was the standard sleazy motel room.
Walking over to the bed, you placed your bag onto it and began to pull various items out of your bag. The first thing being the article of clothing you'd chosen for the night.
The club attire you'd went with was a light pink strapless dress with matching heels that were low enough for you to walk comfortably in. Or run if needed. The dress was one that had remained in your closet for some time, since you'd decided that you didn't have the confidence to wear something so scandalous out in public. Whether you wanted it to or not, the outfit was definitely going to attract attention. Clearly that wasn't your intention but you needed to blend in with the rest of the crowd who absolutely certainly would be dressed in the same kind of clothing.
Clubbing attire was meant to be eye-catching and this dress did meet those requirements.
The next thing you pulled out was the gun. Almost immediately, there's a range of emotions swirling within you as you hold it. Nothing about it is weightless even with it being smaller than the average gun. But then again, maybe you're holding it too firmly.
In your hand, the gun felt like a tool - an instrument to carry out a specific deed. In this case, a murderous deed but a deed no less. There's an aspect of danger and power associated with it. Add into the fact that you possessed no formal gun training. It was almost inconceivable that the inanimate piece of metal could be the key to your freedom. Still the thought was doing nothing to at least placate your nerves.
The explanation was entirely reasonable and at least a somewhat truthful excuse even though he knew that you were against guns and actually advocated for gun control. With you now coming into possession of one such weapon - it was carving a massive incongruity into your beliefs and character.
Regardless, you don't want to get so caught up in revenge that you lose focus of why you were doing it in the first place. You refused to allow uncertainty to overtake your thinking.
And even if you managed to get your revenge and kill him somehow, you have no doubt that a plethora of issues and individuals coming after you in retribution immediately after the deed was committed. If that happened then it was very likely that you wouldn't live to make it out of Gotham. As a lone woman, there was no possible way for you to be able to handle the repercussion of murdering a crime boss. Strangely enough, you found yourself resigned to that very inevitable fact.
The demented man clearly intended to torment you for however long until he eventually grew bored of it and maybe killed you afterwards. You refuse to be another causality left behind and forgotten after you no longer held his interest. That's ultimately how men like him operate - the men who have everything and still take what they want. You loathed the very likes of him.
What you're doing in the grand scheme of things was going up against a dangerous crime lord. Most would deem your resolve and actions utterly insane and foolhardy and you're of sound mind to agree with the sentiment. In fact, some might even say that your actions mirrored something like a suicide mission even if you didn't want to categorize it as that.
Now you just had to wait for nightfall.
Unsurprisingly, it's still freezing outside as you stand in the line on the pavement to get into the club. Despite wearing a jacket, you're only blanketed by your thoughts, your adrenaline was too high for you to even consider the wind chill. In essence, your body was functioning primarily on autopilot, focusing solely on what was to come.
As of now, simply getting the firearm in the club was a major concern. Luckily the small gun, a ruger, was small enough to conceal in your purse.
There's a substantial amount of anxiety regarding the bouncer stationed at the front entrance. Most of your worry stems from the possibility of him checking through your purse to find the weapon. The gun would almost certainly be discovered even with the most careless or half-hearted of glances into the small handbag. A general sense of unease danced along your senses. Frankly, you don't know what your actions will ultimately lead to but you do know that everything basically hinges on how
Nothing about your current appearance would give him any reason to be suspicious so you shouldn't be worried in that regard.
Fortunately, the scumbag was too busy focusing all his attention on your dress. He seemed way more interested in frisking you rather than searching the purse hanging from your shoulder.
As much as you'd like to be, you weren't surprised in the slightest. Incompetence can always be expected from pigheaded men like him.
A short while later, after a somewhat overindulgent frisk, you're allowed entrance into the nightclub. Honestly, if there was one thing you could give Gotham credit for - it was their extensive nightclub scene. It was only your second time coming to the establishment and you can see why so many people were enthralled by it - it was like a whole other world inside.
A deep breath of air fills your lungs as you step further in, the bodily response grounding you. The music is blaring with an uproarious tempo. You don't pay much attention to the shameless couple kissing vigorously to your right.
With the lights dimmed and multicolored strobe lighting being the only thing illuminating the space, you were confident that you wouldn't be prematurely spotted by the wrong people as you searched for the target.
Truthfully, you didn't even know if pale-faced terror would be present at the club tonight and all you had to go on was a whim.
From there, you began to scan the interior of the club amidst the sea of dancing bodies easily sorting out who were strictly the partying individuals and were a part of a different entourage just based on appearance.
Whilst brushing through the crowd, a tall man wearing a silk shirt was passing by on your left, he'd centered his gaze on you. It probably had something to do with your outfit. His eyes dragged from the top of your head to your feet and it was rather apparent that he was appraising you in a manner that was entirely lustful. All it took was a sneer from you to let him know that you weren't the slightest bit interested.
Something caught your attention, in a closed off section situated in a far corner of the large room, you easily spot the very individual in all his fiendish glory. Right away, you've zeroed in on him - the one individual who's purposely made your life a living hell since you came into contact with him.
As you expected, he was being heavily protected by his men. The men were arranged in a loose but organized formation in order to watch for threats and protect their boss at a moment's notice. Surely no one would dare to try and come after him on his own turf.
The powerful well-protected gangster sat overlooking his domain - the very image of him was fear-inducing. It just goes to show just how much power he wielded in any space whether it belonged to him or not. He had the ability to command a space simply by being present. The concept is as baffling as it is terrifying.
The maniacal crime boss was seated on the couch as if it were a throne, much like a king whilst presiding over his subjects. His trademark green hair was slicked back from his angular profile, the 'damaged' tattoo on full display across his forehead. His hollow gaze was both arresting and intimidating. He was dressed in a lavish ensemble consisting of a dark purple suit and black dress shirt underneath with the first three buttons left undone, exposing a good portion of his tattooed chest. The visceral expression in his cold, dead eyes staggered you. Both of his large hands are positioned resolutely on a cane, silver signet rings covering nearly every one of his long fingers.
Everything about him radiated danger and power - you can very plainly see why he's regarded as the clown prince of crime.
The blood in your veins turned to ice at that moment, stomach plummeting to your feet as you met his stare head on, tensing as the man's eyes narrowed dangerously.
Once those chilling blue orbs show recognition, an elated smile spreads across the man's mouth. With that look, it was clear that he had become fully aware of your presence.
The image of it has haunted you for many nights since your last encounter.
The anger from seeing it burns hotly in the center of your chest.
Drawn purely by instinct, you barely had time to allow rage to fully consume you before you leveled the firearm directly at him, index finger pressing down on the trigger. You could barely feel the recoil of the gun in your hand - you can barely hear the sound of the shots themselves.
The gun doesn't exactly sound off with a pop and a flash as you were expecting. No. The sound was rather faint in your ears compared to the boisterous sound the gun produces in any space.
Everything around you was muffled and yet you were aware of everything happening around you.
A flicker of understanding passed over the feature of his face before he threw his body into motion to avoid the hail of bullets flying in his direction. You let off about three rounds, the bullets embedded themselves in the cushion where the man's head had just been moments before.
When the unmistakable sound of gunshots rang out, all hell broke loose within the club. People ran past you not even knowing that you were the person firing off shots. The once jovial atmosphere had turned into something else entirely, everyone is promptly sent scattering across the dancefloor like roaches with many heading straight for the exit just to avoid catching a bullet. You'd never seen a club nearly over capacity clear out so quickly.
Everything happened so quickly.
All of the men guarding the Joker immediately sprung into action, shifted straight into defense mode, hands going for their own weapons, their own alert eyes scanning the panicked crowd for the person firing off shots. Just when you think you may be shot down on the spot, you see the shocked recognition in their eyes - the reluctance to pull their pistol on you. Obviously they didn't want to do so and had to face the wrath of their employer who clearly had a twisted fondness for you. It was the only reason why you weren't full of holes.
It's at that moment that you catch sight of Johnny whose eyes went wide before an enraged sneer settled on his features, nose wrinkling in shock and displeasure. The look wasn't overly surprising seeing as the man had always seemed to have a glaring dislike of you for whatever reason.
Gripping the textured handle firmly, you ceased firing for the moment, gaze darting to get a clear shot. Obviously firing until you're out of ammunition wasn't the wisest idea and you didn't want to waste any bullets on those who weren't the intended target. Unfortunately that included the many guards that protected the Joker.
Considering you were actively trying to gun down their boss, they needed to act swiftly and that's exactly what they did. Not a second later, one man began barreling towards you and even with a loaded gun in your hand, it still felt overly alarming. You aptly remembered him as one of the men who'd laughed and delighted in his bosses' humiliating treatment of you within your apartment.
There wasn't any time or opportunity to block or defend yourself in any way that mattered.
Something hard slams into you, sending you crashing to the floor hard enough that all the breath in your body leaves. Despite the pain the impact caused, you still did everything in your power to escape his hold. You don't know how hard you fought but you definitely gave it your all.
Since the man was not authorized to use his weapon, a physical takedown was the next best thing. The rough takedown solidified that. It was done with brute force. He bum-rushed you as if you were the same size or larger than him and your feet were swept out from under you.
Since your aggressor wasn't given the order to actively harm you in the way that he liked and you quickly took advantage of that fact. Given his next actions, you're almost certain that this man intends to cripple you in any way possible. Despite your initial reluctance to shoot him, you would if it meant you could free yourself from the current predicament.
Whatever leverage you had currently, you knew you wouldn't have it for long in this position. Some of the men obviously possessed burly, well-built frames compared to your smaller, lithe composition. That automatically gave them the upper hand.
All you knew was that you were doing everything not to let him take the gun from you.
He shifted to trying to wrestle the weapon from your hand but no matter what you didn't let go of the gun. You struggled feverishly as the man attempted to establish his weight over you. You wretched back to elbow the man directly into his already broken nose. The man snarled as rivets of blood began to spew from his obviously broken nose. If you weren't still under serious threat of danger, you would have smiled in satisfaction.
Balling your hand into a tightly wound fist, you struck out at the man, hitting him directly in the nose. Kicking out and thrashing violently to throw his body off of yours before twisting to claw violently at the man's face.
"Hurry up and get her under control." Johnny ordered.
Through a series of rough handling methods, the guy managed to restrain you. Your face was pushed into the cold floor, one of your arms pulled back at an odd angle. You know why this was - if you so much as moved in the wrong direction, it may wind up broken.
In that moment, the Joker stood and began a slow series of loud claps as if he just finished watching a show.
"Well if it isn't my gorgeous gal. I gotta say…that was quite the performance." He spoke evenly, his mocking voice sounding like crushed velvet.
You could hear the smile in his voice even without being able to see it properly.
Stepping down from the raised platform, he eagerly closed the distance between the two of you. What you don't understand is how instead of acting with outrage, he beams excitedly at you. With all the power at his disposal, he could have you wiped off the face of the earth in an instance if he wanted.
The men obeyed without a moment's hesitation, obviously not wanting to incur the wrath of their boss for any sort of slight or disobedience brought on by their handling of you.
In the ensuing struggle the gun winds up falling out of your hand and another man wastes no time kicking the gun out of reach.
"Well well…isn't this the most pleasant surprise. And you're all dressed up for me."
Going strictly off of his current demeanor, the man was all too excited to lay eyes on you considering that you'd just made a deliberate attempt on his life. Your actions have clearly impressed and seemingly aroused him to a certain extent.
"Get the fuck off me! I'm going to kill all you fucks!" You shouted flippantly.
"You hear that boys? She's going to kill us. Wouldn't that be fun?"
In a short time, he successfully snuffed out any hope of you possibly ridding yourself of him for good.
Some of the men laughed whilst Johnny mostly regarded you with a hard stare, not at all impressed with your near successful attempt on his boss's life. Despite his bosses happiness he surely was not.
"I was so bored until you showed up. This is certainly not the reunion I was expecting but I'm happy either way."
All it takes is a simple hand gesture from the man to have the men lifting you up. You're positioned over a hard shoulder, the bone digging uncomfortably in your stomach.
He approaches you like a predator closing in on its prey, measured footsteps incredibly daunting. Seeing the joy on his face sickens you.
"Did you miss me?"
The loving tone in his voice had your skin crawling in the most unnatural manner. He was a dark cloud that hung like a shadow over your thoughts and subconscious dreams nearly every waking moment.
"No." You bit out.
For a brief moment, he appeared disappointed by your answer but the look disappeared so quickly that you're not really sure if you ever saw it.
Even with his blue eyes gleaming, his face closely resembles that of an excited child rather than a psychopathic criminal.
"I guess that little show with my gun really stuck with you huh? I can always do it again if you'd like."
"You won't get another chance." You ground out.
His head tilted eerily to the side and several joints cracked simultaneously before he crouched down to your level.
"Wanna bet?" He asked, flashing that mouth full of perfectly lined, gleaming metal teeth smugly down at you.
With the snap of his fingers the men are hauling you up and away towards the back of the club.
"Be fucking careful. I don't want a single hair plucked from her pretty little head." He growled at them.
You feel lower than an animal, with no power to prevent anything from happening.
You were carelessly tossed onto the bed like a ragdoll, bouncing on the soft surface until you immediately righted yourself. You never expected the club to have rooms in the back with a bed. However, the purpose of why wasn't lost on you.
The men then retreated from the room, leaving you with their unhinged, eager boss who was still smirking devilishly at you.
He clicked his tongue mockingly.
"Naughty girl. You must've known I was planning to pay you another visit soon. But it's okay I'm here now."
The man comes to stand directly over you and it becomes disgustingly apparent what he intended to do.
The bed dipped as the crime boss maneuvered himself above you, hunching directly over your frame.
Dreading the predicament you were indefinitely about to be placed in, You briefly contemplated what your next move was. With no real viable choices, you lunged at him in a last ditch effort to fight.
With a strength you didn't know his body possessed, he swiftly forces you back onto the bed, his large hands keeping your own above your head. The hold he has on your wrists is tight enough to aggravate the bone there. He's frighteningly stronger than his lean body indicates.
"Something tells me that you don't plan on being good tonight."
The intent in those cold blue eyes was displayed with characteristic openness.
Shifting the hold on your wrists to one hand, he reaches around and produces a pair of shiny handcuffs. Your heart instantly tanked at the sight of them.
Once the cold metal cuffs clink around your wrists it sinks in that you're truly in a dire situation.
With you sufficiently subdued to his liking, he sat back to admire his latest handiwork.
You kept your thighs pressed together so he couldn't force them open. Whatever the man planned to do, you were determined not to make it easy for him.
"Keep moving gorgeous…there's cuffs for your ankles too." His voice was flirtatious and smooth.
You immediately ceased struggling.
Cerulean eyes darken at once, a scary emotion in them you hadn't seen before and you flinched at the intensity of it.
The man's fingers soon came up to play with the lining of your dress and you tensed. There's barely a second to register what's happening before he pulls the front of your dress down, exposing your chest entirely to his gaze.
His eyes rested lustfully on the twin globes of your breasts and he started palming his hardness through his pants. His fingertips brushing against the hardened nub of your right breast gently before he started pinching the delicate peak. You yelped, launching your feet forward to kick him directly in the shin.
Just as you anticipated, the man immediately went about violating your person. Even with the pressure gone, your nipple continued to ache.
Clearly he was working himself up and growing impatient enough to throw the bottom of your dress up and rip away your panties soon after. The dress is left basically wrapped around your midsection.
The second your hairless mound became visible, the hunger in his gaze intensified.
Somehow none of what is happening is shocking, the man operates solely with an impulsive disposition. Given his disturbed mind, it's not like you can expect any rationalization from him since he's clearly insane. Unlike most people, he doesn't bother to hide his depravity, in fact, he happily showcases it for others to see and experience. His actions only make sense to him and that was all that mattered. He got off on intentionally victimizing you at every juncture.
He grins proudly at your subjugation, clearly relishing in mental struggle and confusion. To him, you merely served as an outlet for his sexual depravities and he reminded you of that every single encounter.
Which incidentally, made for an unconventional and strangely alluring aspect about him - the madness within him was like an aphrodisiac. But that was the issue, you can no longer deal with his twisted fixation with you.
"You're insane." You uttered.
He laughed loudly at that.
Peering into those blue pools of evil, you watched as he merely shrugged before tilting his head to the side. "When have I ever claimed to be sane?"
"While I'm proud, you've still been a very, very bad girl. And bad girls need to be punished." He affirmed.
"Fuck you!"
"Oh? I can understand that you're eager but we'll get to that in a moment."
In an impulsive move, you spit directly in his face, watching as the spittle slowly trickled down the skin. The look in his eyes just about scares you half to death. Icy blue eyes had sharpened on you and he looked absolutely murderous, like he might kill you on the spot for what you'd just done.
For any perceived slight or disrespect, he would punish you in retaliation.
Instead of inciting violence on you, he calmly brought a hand up and used his thumb to wipe away the check on his cheek.
Out of nowhere, he grips you by the hair and yanks it painfully. The pain seers throughout the entirety of your skull and you struggle against the hold to no avail as he forces you to open up your jaw. The second he manages to pry it open wide enough, he spits directly into your mouth.
"Swallow it." He orders, voice thunderous and nostrils flared.
You reel in disgust and horror at the thought as you had no intention of complying with any of his demands. You stared back at him defiantly.
Regardless, the man's eyes bore into your own in an intense stare that wouldn't be broken unless he allowed it.
"Swallow it right fucking now." He demands, squeezing your face tightly with one hand.
Sheer frustration gnawed fervently at you but most of all your glaring failure at having to swallow your pride and comply with his demands. Words can't describe the utter disgust you feel at having the lukewarm saliva slide down your throat the way that it did.
Straightaway, your lips closed around the long finger and did exactly as he demanded. All the while he glared hungrily at you.
"Good girl." He purred lowly.
"You don't want to play hide and seek anymore huh? Too boring for ya? That's okay. I can find a game that's more fun." He cooed, voice filled with malice and impropriety.
In truth the statement should've incensed you beyond all belief but at this point, you think he should've allowed his men to shoot you where you stood.
"I have something for you. I'd nearly forgotten being so caught up in the moment and all."
"Tada!"
"I see now…you want a reminder. You want a reminder so you won't ever forget about all the fun we've had." Mister J's ruby lips twisted into a sinister smile and a deep unsettling laugh derives from his belly. The sound of it is unnatural and in some ways childlike depending on how one chooses to perceive it.
Fear skated down your spine with enough force that it nearly caused you to start trembling.
Did it even have to come to this?
It was extremely malicious of him to go this route and you shuddered at the very idea that he would even consider doing this. The very image of you helpless and at his mercy thrilled him.
Sheer panic grips you right away, your heart beginning to hammer much faster.
The man's face lowered extremely close to your own, drinking in your horrified expression.
"Well don't you worry your pretty little head. Daddy's gonna help you remember everything." He promised.
The statement sounded like a vicious threat to your well being. From listening to his words, you expected him to take his time tormenting every inch of your body but the man undoubtedly had something else hidden in his arsenal of debauchery. Either way, your mind was prompted to brace against the whatever deviant things he was preparing to subject you to.
In his immediate reaction, the crime boss pulled back to stare at you, his nostrils flaring in anger. Just going by his unpredictable and chaotic nature, it was expected that your actions would no doubt be met with hostility.
He quickly rid himself of his suit jacket and dress shirt, exposing his narrow waist but muscled abdomen to your wide eyes. At this point, you can't do much but stare at him in horror as he crawls atop you.
Your breath hitched, pulse pounding loudly in your ears.
Even with the threat of imminent danger, you can't ignore the feeling of heat rushing down into your core. Just from his touch alone, desire began to pulse through every fiber of your being. As much as you hated and wanted him dead, deep down some instinctual part of you craved his proximity, his touch, and the pleasure you know you'll receive at his hands. You can't stand how quickly your body betrays you. You found it absolutely revolting how the man could rouse your body with both soft and rough ministrations. For as much hate as you possessed for him, it shouldn't be possible in any capacity. You can't make sense of it.
By this point, shame had started to seep out of your pores in large waves.
From what you know about him, the vast majority of his indiscretions are horrifically immoral, especially the ones he committed against you. All of which are things he willfully inflicted on you. But as circumstances would have it, this would likely be his most violating, explicit transgression yet.
"A little outdated but it still gets the job done." He menacingly declared.
When the device fully comes into view, you nearly bulk when you finally realize what it is. The device in question turned out to be a handheld view camera.
He couldn't - he wouldn't. You reasoned. as he held the camera directly in view. It's in that exact moment that you come to realize that he's not human - he's a demon in human form. But that's what he was, a man lacking the mental capacity to acknowledge anyone's free will.
"I've never considered myself a camera person. I mostly use it to film my less than savory deeds." He smirked knowingly.
Your stomach churned with pure unadulterated fear, limbs paralyzed with inaction.
"Come on…don't tell me my gorgeous gal is camera shy."
Once again, that creepy smile crept onto his pale face. "You made such a big fuss about those photos."
Taking all of this into account, you could not ignore the desire pooling into your gut at the very thought of him acting his desires onto you.
"Now, spread your legs like the obedient slut that you are." He commanded a hard edge in his tone.
The man then curled his fingers in your hair tightly, making you grit your teeth as he brought his face close.
Once again, he brought a hand up to your face, using a single finger to caress the line of your jaw. "It doesn't matter what you say. I know all you want is to have your pussy filled and I'm happy to oblige."
The thickness of his dick breached your unprepared entrance, gradually working into your unprepared entrance in spite of your distressed cries. You bucked at the painful intrusion, body resisting in an effort to prevent him from entering further. You were stretched to capacity with you unable to do much but accept him you simply resign yourself to grit your teeth amidst the resulting discomfort and pain. The burn the intrusion caused in your lower extremities prompted your entire body to tense. When he made to withdraw himself again, you screamed at the feeling. In one devastating motion, he was seated inside of you, remaining undeterred by your body's stunned reaction.
"...no stop…" You pleaded weakly.
The walls of your slick passage were gripping him like a vice.
"You have no idea how many times I think about this cunt of yours. So tight and perfect."
Part of you already knows what's coming next. You can't even properly brace yourself when he begins slamming down into you. The length of his dick sliding back and forth over your folds. He's as hard as steel, your body having committed the feel of it to memory. He established a frenzied pace, thrusting deep into you in hard but steady movements.
From there, he unleashes a flurry of maniacal thrusts into you. Your body is practically screaming, senses alight and going haywire. As a result, your mind is left teetering between several planes of existence, barely capable of thinking past the fog of pleasure.
When you crack your eyes open, you're not surprised to find the camera directly in your face.
He's utterly meticulous in keeping every part of you in the shot, whether he focuses on your heaving breasts, facial expression, or the one place where both your bodies are joined together. You jerked your head to the side in a strained attempt to hide your face front both the feeling of him ruthlessly driving into you and the view of the camera. One of his hands comes up to wrap itself back around your throat, holding you in place while filming your distress etched face and bouncing breasts.
He aimed the camera at your waist, staring hungrily down at the spot where you and him were joined together. Wet slaps of skin fill the air as his body violently jerks against yours, your overly sensitive walls stretched, his girth rubbing them raw. Only he would be so demented to want to film his exploits and the things he does to you.
"Look at me…look into the camera." He demanded.
He roughly takes hold of your jaw and forces your face towards him. He didn't stop even when you started to wheeze painfully from the force it was using, seemingly set on you looking into the lens.
The camera frame provided a raw and erotic visual display.
With your hand still securely cuffed, he flips you over to your front and mounts you from behind.
Your entire frame tenses when the blunt head of his erection starts to slowly breach the tight ring again of your entrance, sending a terrible spasm of pain throughout your lower half. The sensation leaves you gasping for air as you attempt to either force him out or adjust to the intrusion.
With the new position, the camera is placed on the bed just inches away pointed towards your face, still it was positioned at an angle to catch every visceral expression that crossed your features.
The Joker quickly situates himself behind you, settling over the expanse of your back, taking hold of your hips and surging forward. The hot rod of flesh began to enter the inviting warmth of your core. Another swift motion causes you to be filled again, the slide of his manhood was made easier. Without warning, you could feel him digging deeper into you to the point of you screeching.
The feeling multiplied when his dick shifted angles and started pounding directly against your cervix. From there, you descended into letting out loud hapless screams, at the sensation whilst he attacked your neck ravenously, leaving welts and bit imprints in the skin. He continued to mercilessly impale you with the hard pillar of flesh while you writhed in both agony and bliss.
His hips are pumping furiously against your ass in deft, fluid motions, maintaining a frantic and demanding rhythm. Each thrust seemingly more forceful than the last. You bite into your bottom lip to keep from screaming but he reaches around to grip your jaw and squeezes the bone there.
The camera almost certainly captured the lewd, wet sounds from the violent coupling. You fervently hoped that you wouldn't expose to him just how much you enjoyed some of the things he did. You knew for as long as you lived that you could never allow him to become privy to how you found an inkling of pleasure in his touch despite how degrading or painful it might be. You were furious with yourself that you could not rid yourself of him - that you couldn't ward off his advances. You were completely powerless to stop what was taking place.
At this point, your vision had completely glazed over, your eyes open but unseeing as if trapped in a pleasure induced trance. The jarring sensation rippled through your entire body and you cried out in ecstasy. In spite of this, he continued penetrating even further into your depths. Rutting against your frame like an animal with no self-control. The sheer savageness of the thrusts are enough to rock your body into the surface beneath you.
Your breath quickened with an upcoming release and he appeared to take notice.
"Aha aha…you're not allowed to cum unless I say so." He uttered.
"I love your singing voice. So loud and fucking beautiful. I'm going to fucking ruin you." He growled.
More sick agonizing pleasure bloomed, unfurling deep in the recesses of your stomach.
He chose that moment to readjust his grip on your hip and your back arches painfully to accommodate or at least ease the heavy pressure being imposed on your spine. You can feel the gold chain around his neck rocking back and forth along your heated skin. With the man's head positioned next to your own, you could feel and hear his hot, heaving breaths against the shell of your ear.
All the while, he continued to brutally slam into that one place that pulled ragged shouts from your chest. "I hate you! I hate you!" You yelled, the sound escaping you resembling a hoarse whine instead of a declaration of hatred.
"You can say you hate me all you want but your cunt sure doesn't!" He roughly amends with a mocking laugh.
Your screams of outright hatred soon dissolved into cries of ecstasy.
"You look so fucking good. Like a masterpiece…like you were made to be on camera. You should've chosen a different career."
"Shut…up." You grounded out.
"Why all the anger? Don't I make you feel good?" He taunted.
"Is that what's wrong? You want to feel good again?" He softly mused.
The manner in which the question smoothly imprinted on your brain unnerved you entirely.
Not long after, there was a firm hand around your throat, the resulting pressure crushing effectively your windpipe. Your hands came up to claw at the unmoving appendage set on strangling you. "Answer me when I fucking talk to you." He growled.
"...yes…" Your voice quietly trembled.
To think all of this was taking place because you had to use the bathroom at the club.
He growled absolutely obscene things to you while you tried your hardest to ignore him.
"Feels good doesn't it? You know won't kill me because you love this. You love what I can do to you…how I make you feel."
Not wanting him to hear the pleasured sounds from you, you buried your face into the sheets. A low whimper slipped past your lips before you could stop it. But it was too late, you knew he heard it.
Smashing his mouth against yours, barely missing the top row of teeth in the process before he eventually pulled back.
A firm hand wraps itself around your throat, the finger just loose enough to not choke you. Still the added pressure makes you lightheaded.
"Cum for me. Let me see it…give it to me."
You fought against the impending orgasm, not wanting to give into the man's sick demand.
A powerful orgasm hits you like a strike of lightning and you twist violently as the feeling overwhelms you completely. Black spots danced along the edges of your vision and panic rose to its highest point as you were sure that you were close to losing consciousness.
"Don't cum in me." You whined weakly.
"You don't tell me what the fuck to do."
A hard set of teeth buried themselves in your throat soon after, hot white pain shot through you. You felt his erection pulsing inside, releasing thick jets of semen from his loins.
The weight on your back grew heavier and he heaved next to your ear before seemingly composing himself. Some of the weight left and you expected him to pull out and have his men discard you like used trash. But that didn't happen, in fact the man remained buried inside of you with no indication of leaving anytime soon.
When he started to kiss and lick at the skin of your shoulder blade, your brows furrowed in confusion. That confusion only amplified when he began nestling the top of your top with his own like a beloved pet. "You don't think the fun's going to end right now do ya? Nooo we've got a long way to go before that happens. I've got all night to play with you."
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