Quote:

Emperor Joker said:
Thus far I have been portrayed as klinton on crack/heroin/rohypnol (pick one), PJPervert in a rape session during school hours, and one of those guys who prefer doggie style so they can pretend their gals are someone else! This is pure fresh and unadulterated blasphemy!




*sigh* Okay, okay... this is the last one though.

Royal Flush by 123456
Batman, The Joker, Harley Quinn are all trademarks of DC Comics - I do not own any of the characters in this story, they all belong to DC Comics
---
Harley Quinn was not your average femme fatale. She was not an uneducated thief or catburglar, an occult plant worshipper or an idealist. She was Dr Harleen Quinzelle, psychiatrist extraordinaire, obsessed with the criminal mind, what makes it tick and why people end up getting hurt. She was not some stupid nymphomaniac - however, she was in love. Her recent, er, "line of work" had led to marked improvements in her gymnastic ability and general flexibility. Her body was perfectly toned, and her figure hugging tight leather costume sure got that point across. However, she was not interested in catching the wandering eye of random men - she was not shallow. She was totally, completely and utterly dedicated to her one true love, the Clown Prince of Crime.
The Joker was not your average criminal. He was not some idiot with super powers, or a muscle-suit or something. He was a mastermind, he was also insane. He was the man who spent his life trying to vanquish Batman, and actually turned down the opportunity to unmask Batman because it would "rob the man of his mystique". He truly was a raving lunatic. He knew, though, that his Harley would always come back to him: always. Or at least he did until now.
Harley had become fairly naïve, believing that the Joker would love her as much as she loved him. She was also naive enough to fall for Batman's clever traps - Joker could see that Batman was planting seeds of doubt in her mind, spurring her to ditch Joker and come clean. Joker knew she seemed to be totally in love with him, but he couldn't take chances. He had been letting their "relationship" slide over the past few months, obsessing over his diabolical schemes to destroy Batman. Tonight was different - Joker was going to "reinforce" their relationship with a bit of help from his old tools. He smirked as his pencil flew across the page he was writing, documenting tiny details of his insidious and prodigious masterplan. He stopped, looked at his watch, and put down the pencil with a slick . He took a breath and yelled, "HARLEEEEY!" in the honeyed and false voice he used when he wanted to win her over. Not that she hadn't already been permanently won over by his stunning good looks, but, never mind...
She sprang enthusiastically into the room, bouncing with perfect balance off her strong yet elegant legs - she was childlike in nature, and the Joker loved that. "Whatsa matter, mistah J?!" she giggled as she posed gleefully in her skimpy translucent red nightdress, no, nightskirt. Joker grinned and his eyes glinted maniacally. Any other woman would have screamed and called for help, or possibly wet themselves, but for some reason this made Harley swoon ("Ooooh mistah J, you're soooo romantic!") and possibly wet herself in a different way. Joker stood up and began to explain.
"Harley, my dear - I know I haven't been spending much time with you recently, and I'm extremely sorry, and I've decided to make it up to you right now!"
Harley quivered in some sort of excited spasm and gushed "Wooooow, reeeally?!"
Joker refrained from raising one eyebrow and continued simply; "Remember Smilex?"
There was a slight pause. "Your happy gas?"
Joker chuckled vaguely and agreed, "Yes, my gas - it causes the victims to suffer extreme facial muscle contractions. There was a prototype, Smilex-B, which never really worked, but it seems to have acquired some interesting properties." He stepped aside to reveal a large gas canister with a small valve at the top. "It's a combination of mutant pheromones, basic toxins and muscle influencing chemicals," he said matter-of-factly and paused. Harley grinned. "It seems to only affect women." Joker was loving this. He pulled the release of the valve and purple gas hissed into the room.
After a few seconds, Harley started coughing. Joker was slightly confused at this. He tried to shut the valve to see what was going on but the pressure was too high. He waited but realised that he was going past the dosage he'd intended to give. The valve was jammed, and by the time he'd unstuck the switch, the canister was empty. He looked around nervously - Harley had fallen back onto a chair. The Joker blinked.
Harley had no idea what the hell was going on, but she sure loved her mistah J right now. She was experiencing pleasure she'd never felt, she wasn't aware that she was breathing - but then again, she wasn't aware that one of her hands was clutching her crotch, and her other hand was pulling her left breast under her shirt. The Joker smiled (he was always smiling) as he realised his gas had worked perfectly. It was acting as an incredibly powerful aphrodisiac. His slim beauty was squirming, rubbing her legs against each other, and gasping. She let out a high pitched "Arrrrrrhhhhhhhhhhhhuuuuunnnnh!" which startled Joker into action. He advanced toward her and grabbed her butt, and with a great effort, pulled her into an embrace. To his vague surprise, her writhing legs wrapped round him and squeezed his stomach, and Harley began rubbing the whole front of her body against him, not least her pulsing crotch.
He carried his struggling love to their modest bed, and lay her down flat, taking some time to dislodge her legs. He had a basic plan for causing his princess to have the ultimate orgasm: all over body massage, some, eh, "handiwork", a few long kisses, oral sex, vaginal penetration and g-spot massage. Perfect. The Joker, no matter how random and chaotic he seemed, always had a plan. He began. He pressed his entire body against Harley's, kissing her neck and rubbing her all over, taking great care not to remove her clothes - that was for last; he was going to work her up into a frenzy. He cupped Harley's firm breasts and began to massage and knead them, and they almost bulged as she gasped "..ooh..p...puddin'!" He grinned and slid his hands down her supple front, applying gentle force to her flat stomach and then her warm pubis. She let out a small shriek as he glided over her protruding clitoris for a fleeting moment. He massaged her inner thighs thoroughly and decided now was the time to remove her clothing. He hooked her panties around her thumbs, and slid them down while kneading her slender legs, ending the slide in a vigourous foot massage (apparently women like that, he mused), then allowing the silk panties to tickle her feet as they slipped off.
He slipped his index and forefinger into her aching vagina. Harley was ecstatic, her mind was empty and now her vagina was full - Joker manipulated her delicate insides with perfect skill, stretching her vagina, causing her to kick the air and thrash her legs about. Joker knew she hadn't climaxed yet; he was working her towards a big one that she wouldn't soon forget. Joker withdrew his wet fingers and, using his other hand, gently coaxed his rapt and ravishing woman into an upright position. She leant against him gently, throbbing as he kissed her and worked her breasts. In a single fluid motion, he pulled off her translucent nightskirt, revealing her true beauty. He marvelled at her flawless physique for a few seconds, then kissed her throat slowly and let her lean back. She was now sitting in a sort of childbirth position, albeit more upright, and her eyes followed him avidly as he knelt down at the bedside.
She barely had time to exclaim "PUDDIN'!" before she was totally incapacitated by his rough, wet tongue tracing patterns on her crotch and rubbing her vagina. She caught her breath and almost fainted when "mistah J" began sucking hard on her fully exposed clitoris. She squealed ("Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!") happily and smiled appreciatively as Joker stood up and met her eye. She looked thoroughly in love. Joker winked. She yelped as Joker disappeared - she was suddenly aware of a tremendous force behind her. Before she could even begin to think, her vagina was being penetrated from behind, stretching it enough to cause Harley intense pleasure, but not enough to cause her the slightest pain. She gasped in rhythm with Joker's calculated thrusts, and felt it coming. By now she was covered with a shimmering sheen of glistening sweat, accentuating her shapely curves and tight body. She took a deep breath and "Hnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!" her eyes rolled back in her head as her G-Spot was massaged with extreme force, her glands released a pulse of lubricant, her toes curled, her legs flew forward (luckily Joker was behind her or he might've died!) and thrashed frantically and she wriggled as her whole body was filled with the warmth of her puddin'. It wasn't over, it'd been 13 seconds and her vaginal muscles were still pulsating, throbbing and clenching around Joker's manhood - he released his load into her - she was still thrashing around, and her vaginal muscles acting like a short circuited masturbation machine!
Harley became aware that she was wriggling around on Joker's penis, and was still immobilised by her powerful (to say the least) orgasm. She felt the tightness in her lower abdomen increase even as Joker withdrew himself from her sweaty feminine area. Suddenly she gasped with release - she seemed to have wet herself! She didn't care, and leant against her man joyfully. Joker didn't mind about Harley's unexpected release, after all, what woman COULD control their pelvic floor muscles after a night in bed with the J-man?!


Old men, fear me! You will shatter under my ruthless apathetic assault!

Uschi - 2
Old Men - 0

"I am convinced that this world is of no importance, and that the only people who care about dates are imbeciles and Spanish teachers." -- Jean Arp, 1921

"If Jesus came back and saw what people are doing in his name, he would never never stop throwing up." - Max von Sydow, "Hannah and Her Sisters"