Fic: Ghost Stories
Title: Ghost Stories
Author: lilac28
Rating: R/NC-17 (somewhere between the two)
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and make no profit from this.
Notes: This was written for the Batman/Joker Halloween challenge. It started out as the second half of "The Witching Hour" but the story was way too long for the word limit of the challenge. Thus I realized it worked better as two separate stories and split it in two.
This was my first attempt at non-lulz and I was totally insecure about it. I really wanted to write just some steamy, evil porn that was darker than my usual stuff. Much to my shock it won first place! Very cool! Check out the fantastic banner that chosenfire28 made for me! You can read the other awesome entries here.
Summary: On Halloween, the Joker tells Batman a ghost story. Bruce Wayne just can't help himself.......
"Let me."
It was a soft entreaty, yet the Joker's voice never wavered.
Batman wanted this. The Joker knew it; his cuffed hands ran along a black clad hip.
Bruce Wayne hadn't been surprised when the letter Gordon had given him earlier that evening turned out to contain a joker card with the time and location of a special "Halloween Party". (Come in costume, Batman! I might even let you catch me. xoxox-J)
What was a little shocking was the attire the Joker had chosen to wear; a tight nurse's uniform made of white.......vinyl. The skirt was obscenely short, ending just a few inches below the hip. Peeking out beneath it were twin pairs of thin black straps attached to lace topped thigh-high stockings. His green hair contrasted with all the white, making him appear more washed out, more ghoulish than ever.
"You like? It's my Halloween costume!" He had smiled and posed coquettishly, white vinyl skirt rising even higher.
Overpowering and cuffing him had been easy, far too easy. Bruce now understood the price as the Joker smoothed the lower armor plates with his fingers, the space between them rife with pollution and peril. He was dirty, smelled stale, and his yellow teeth were even more ghastly up close. He was everything hateful and hopeless that Batman fought against.
And it felt so fucking powerful to be so close to him. To see those glittering eyes fix him with...understanding. The Joker knew the darkest parts of him; parts he wasn't ready to admit existed. Bruce was frozen, caught by an unhinged, hypnotic stare that belied a keen intelligence.
Reason screamed that he should knock the man unconscious and take him in but his body couldn't-wouldn't move.
"Let me." The Joker's tongue made its first appearance in what seemed like forever, swiping along red lips with an undisguised hunger. His palms hovered between Batman's legs. "Let me, let me...you waaant it...."
Bruce found he could barely breathe, unsure now that the clown had acknowledged the crackling tension between them. His body trembled. A shiver, that's all it was, not a barely perceptible nod of the head.
The Joker seemed to take it as such and, ever the escape artist, made short work of the key pieces of armor, snickering at what he found. "Ooo...heh, you do want it! I knew I wasn't the only one who liked my out-fit."
He reached out, never breaking eye contact.
Stop him! It's not too late to stop.
"Like thiiis?" Whether inquisitive or teasing, the touches were maddeningly delicate.
"No." Oh God, help me. Bruce repositioned his hands, adding more pressure. "Like this."
"Oh, heh, now you're talkin'. I like a man who knows what he wants. I like a man who...." he trailed off, leaning forward to whisper a filthy litany. Despite the harsh breathing and stuttered speech, the Joker had to be the most accomplished dirty talker Bruce had ever heard, quickly weaving together plots, desires, and instructions that ranged from coy to downright licentious.
He gave a dark chuckle, desperate to regain emotional distance. "Your mouth is even grungier than your hair. Tell me the truth," he let the Joker reverse their positions, his back now to the wall, "phone sex operator, right?"
"Heh heh, how do you know that's actually not my, uh, day job."
"Because even then you'd probably dress better," the quip did nothing to spare his dignity as he grabbed at the white uniform to pull the other man closer.
"Not bad, Bats, not bad. I appreciate the attempt at hu-mor, but we're going to have to work on what is and isn't funny. Speaking of funny, have I ever told you how I got these scars?" His hand built up to a patterned rhythm. One, two, a swirl around the top, and the rest of the world was becoming a dull haze with every passing stroke.
"I've he-heard that one," Bruce's breath hitched with an expert turn of the Joker's wrist.
"Hmmmmm....you have? Maybe something different tonight, lover? It is Halloween, after all. How 'bout a ghost story?"
The Joker straddled Bruce's left leg, working him with skillful cuffed hands, grinding into him with every caress, the cold metal handcuffs making his stomach tense every time they brushed against him. The Joker nipped at his neck, finally settling on his shoulder, mouth pointed at his ear, and emitted a wistful sigh.
"Ever been to New England? Creeeepy old barns, lotsa bats and weirdos. You'd love it. Well....back in Salem right before the witch trials there was a mysteeerious man who dressed all in black and rode from town to town trying to stop crimes. He would prowl late at night with a black hood on and stop rapes and robberies. He couldn't help himself, ha ha, can you believe that? People started calling him the Black Rider, thinking he was in league with.....the devil."
His eyes widened comically as he smacked his lips together, continuing to rub himself against Bruce's thigh.
"The local authorities-uh....they....." he paused for the right word, "to-ler-ated him. They officially disapproved but often, in secret, accepted his help to stop thieves. Everything went along okay until one man showed up."
A sharp bite to Bruce's earlobe jolted every nerve, making him arch and gasp. He was dizzy with sensation and the perverted lilt of the clown's voice. The fingers wrapped around his cock squeezed harder, pace increasing slightly, magnifying the friction so that he couldn't help but respond with tenuous thrusts.
"A man with a scarred face and long hair, dressed in a purple robe. He would haunt Salem and the surrounding towns, setting fires and murdering anyone in his path. The authorities couldn't catch him. He was too quick! It was like he was......maaagic. People started calling him the, uh, Warlock. Finally, they turned to the Black Rider for help."
The Joker started alternating hands, one replacing the other as he pumped mercilessly, breaking the flow every so often to tease, fondle lower.
"Heh, you know what happened then, don't you, Batman? Allllll hell broke loose. The Warlock and the Black Rider started playing a game that consumed everything in its path. They chased each other from town to town, fought and sneered at each other, destroying houses, farms, heh heh people. Anything in their way was annihilated, a result of the collision between two power-ful forces."
Bruce surged against him, clutching at unwashed hair. Grimy finger pads were adding just the right amount of tension to the spot between his balls, rubbing small circles into swollen flesh. Oh God.....
"Then young women began showing up....afflicted. They would have fits and utter straaange sounds, almost magically displaying the same scars as the Warlock. The town became hysterical," the Joker tried to laugh but it came out a broken gasp, he seemed to be unraveling just as quickly. "There were t-trials and accusations, women who had the scars were h-hanged or stoned to death. Formerly civilized people turned on each other, accusing each other of w-witchcraft while screaming for the heads of the Warlock and the Black Rider."
He gripped the other man even tighter, kneading skinny arms and legs. A strap on the garter belt ripped in his hand from the incessant pawing. Neither one of them noticed.
"Oh, unh," the Joker started making plaintive, lusty little groans. "The B-Black Rider finally caught the Warlock and, oh!, tried to turn him in. You know-ha, ha, ha-you know what happened, Batsy? They arrested them both! The Black Rider turned out to be the magistrate's son!"
They were now openly grinding into each other, all heated squeaking rubber and vinyl. Bruce's legs shook as a throbbing pulse started to overtake him. Mind blanked with desire-here was the real release he was searching for, an orgasm was just a bonus. He wasn't thinking about his parents or Rachel, wasn't even consumed by the violence inside of him.
The Joker's voice was high pitched and cracking, "Oh God, oh fuck, Batman, they tied them to the stake. They tied them, uh, they tied them to the stake together!"
Bruce's head was pulled up and made to look directly into gleaming eyes, at the painted face contorting in ecstasy. Allowing Bruce to watch him unfurl completely, unashamed at any perceived vulnerability, he sobbed the remainder of the story with his cresting orgasm.
"They buuuuuuurned. They burned at the stake together."
Those hands never stopped and he was gone. An electric pinch burst into waves of bliss as he came all over the Joker's skirt and lacy stockings. He allowed himself one triumph, one small victory. He managed to cry out in only loud exhalations and unintelligible sounds, pushing all needy language to the back of his mind where he prayed the Joker couldn't hear. Just like that.....don't stop.....oh God, oh God, oh fuck.....YES....yesyesyesyes.........
His knees buckled and they slid down the wall together, landing in a shallow pool of oily rainwater. The Joker poured himself into Bruce's lap and rested his slick forehead against the mask, panting into parted lips. Both of them a sweaty, tangled mess of makeup and costumed depravity.
"You know," the clown uttered breathlessly, "the locals say you can still hear them every Halloween. The Warlock and the Black Rider howling at each other in the night, tumbling and fighting 'til the end. They say it's fate, a di-vine decree. They say it's destiny. Heh, destined to go on forever."
Bruce didn't take note of the metallic clink and quick shuffling until it was too late. The Joker had somehow slipped a sticky hand free, swiftly encircling one of Bruce's wrists with the empty cuff, chaining them together. He flashed a grotesque smile, free hand now pulling a knife out of his boot.
"Hey Bats, I'm gonna haunt you........"
The End
Author: lilac28
Rating: R/NC-17 (somewhere between the two)
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and make no profit from this.
Notes: This was written for the Batman/Joker Halloween challenge. It started out as the second half of "The Witching Hour" but the story was way too long for the word limit of the challenge. Thus I realized it worked better as two separate stories and split it in two.
This was my first attempt at non-lulz and I was totally insecure about it. I really wanted to write just some steamy, evil porn that was darker than my usual stuff. Much to my shock it won first place! Very cool! Check out the fantastic banner that chosenfire28 made for me! You can read the other awesome entries here.
Summary: On Halloween, the Joker tells Batman a ghost story. Bruce Wayne just can't help himself.......
"Let me."
It was a soft entreaty, yet the Joker's voice never wavered.
Batman wanted this. The Joker knew it; his cuffed hands ran along a black clad hip.
Bruce Wayne hadn't been surprised when the letter Gordon had given him earlier that evening turned out to contain a joker card with the time and location of a special "Halloween Party". (Come in costume, Batman! I might even let you catch me. xoxox-J)
What was a little shocking was the attire the Joker had chosen to wear; a tight nurse's uniform made of white.......vinyl. The skirt was obscenely short, ending just a few inches below the hip. Peeking out beneath it were twin pairs of thin black straps attached to lace topped thigh-high stockings. His green hair contrasted with all the white, making him appear more washed out, more ghoulish than ever.
"You like? It's my Halloween costume!" He had smiled and posed coquettishly, white vinyl skirt rising even higher.
Overpowering and cuffing him had been easy, far too easy. Bruce now understood the price as the Joker smoothed the lower armor plates with his fingers, the space between them rife with pollution and peril. He was dirty, smelled stale, and his yellow teeth were even more ghastly up close. He was everything hateful and hopeless that Batman fought against.
And it felt so fucking powerful to be so close to him. To see those glittering eyes fix him with...understanding. The Joker knew the darkest parts of him; parts he wasn't ready to admit existed. Bruce was frozen, caught by an unhinged, hypnotic stare that belied a keen intelligence.
Reason screamed that he should knock the man unconscious and take him in but his body couldn't-wouldn't move.
"Let me." The Joker's tongue made its first appearance in what seemed like forever, swiping along red lips with an undisguised hunger. His palms hovered between Batman's legs. "Let me, let me...you waaant it...."
Bruce found he could barely breathe, unsure now that the clown had acknowledged the crackling tension between them. His body trembled. A shiver, that's all it was, not a barely perceptible nod of the head.
The Joker seemed to take it as such and, ever the escape artist, made short work of the key pieces of armor, snickering at what he found. "Ooo...heh, you do want it! I knew I wasn't the only one who liked my out-fit."
He reached out, never breaking eye contact.
Stop him! It's not too late to stop.
"Like thiiis?" Whether inquisitive or teasing, the touches were maddeningly delicate.
"No." Oh God, help me. Bruce repositioned his hands, adding more pressure. "Like this."
"Oh, heh, now you're talkin'. I like a man who knows what he wants. I like a man who...." he trailed off, leaning forward to whisper a filthy litany. Despite the harsh breathing and stuttered speech, the Joker had to be the most accomplished dirty talker Bruce had ever heard, quickly weaving together plots, desires, and instructions that ranged from coy to downright licentious.
He gave a dark chuckle, desperate to regain emotional distance. "Your mouth is even grungier than your hair. Tell me the truth," he let the Joker reverse their positions, his back now to the wall, "phone sex operator, right?"
"Heh heh, how do you know that's actually not my, uh, day job."
"Because even then you'd probably dress better," the quip did nothing to spare his dignity as he grabbed at the white uniform to pull the other man closer.
"Not bad, Bats, not bad. I appreciate the attempt at hu-mor, but we're going to have to work on what is and isn't funny. Speaking of funny, have I ever told you how I got these scars?" His hand built up to a patterned rhythm. One, two, a swirl around the top, and the rest of the world was becoming a dull haze with every passing stroke.
"I've he-heard that one," Bruce's breath hitched with an expert turn of the Joker's wrist.
"Hmmmmm....you have? Maybe something different tonight, lover? It is Halloween, after all. How 'bout a ghost story?"
The Joker straddled Bruce's left leg, working him with skillful cuffed hands, grinding into him with every caress, the cold metal handcuffs making his stomach tense every time they brushed against him. The Joker nipped at his neck, finally settling on his shoulder, mouth pointed at his ear, and emitted a wistful sigh.
"Ever been to New England? Creeeepy old barns, lotsa bats and weirdos. You'd love it. Well....back in Salem right before the witch trials there was a mysteeerious man who dressed all in black and rode from town to town trying to stop crimes. He would prowl late at night with a black hood on and stop rapes and robberies. He couldn't help himself, ha ha, can you believe that? People started calling him the Black Rider, thinking he was in league with.....the devil."
His eyes widened comically as he smacked his lips together, continuing to rub himself against Bruce's thigh.
"The local authorities-uh....they....." he paused for the right word, "to-ler-ated him. They officially disapproved but often, in secret, accepted his help to stop thieves. Everything went along okay until one man showed up."
A sharp bite to Bruce's earlobe jolted every nerve, making him arch and gasp. He was dizzy with sensation and the perverted lilt of the clown's voice. The fingers wrapped around his cock squeezed harder, pace increasing slightly, magnifying the friction so that he couldn't help but respond with tenuous thrusts.
"A man with a scarred face and long hair, dressed in a purple robe. He would haunt Salem and the surrounding towns, setting fires and murdering anyone in his path. The authorities couldn't catch him. He was too quick! It was like he was......maaagic. People started calling him the, uh, Warlock. Finally, they turned to the Black Rider for help."
The Joker started alternating hands, one replacing the other as he pumped mercilessly, breaking the flow every so often to tease, fondle lower.
"Heh, you know what happened then, don't you, Batman? Allllll hell broke loose. The Warlock and the Black Rider started playing a game that consumed everything in its path. They chased each other from town to town, fought and sneered at each other, destroying houses, farms, heh heh people. Anything in their way was annihilated, a result of the collision between two power-ful forces."
Bruce surged against him, clutching at unwashed hair. Grimy finger pads were adding just the right amount of tension to the spot between his balls, rubbing small circles into swollen flesh. Oh God.....
"Then young women began showing up....afflicted. They would have fits and utter straaange sounds, almost magically displaying the same scars as the Warlock. The town became hysterical," the Joker tried to laugh but it came out a broken gasp, he seemed to be unraveling just as quickly. "There were t-trials and accusations, women who had the scars were h-hanged or stoned to death. Formerly civilized people turned on each other, accusing each other of w-witchcraft while screaming for the heads of the Warlock and the Black Rider."
He gripped the other man even tighter, kneading skinny arms and legs. A strap on the garter belt ripped in his hand from the incessant pawing. Neither one of them noticed.
"Oh, unh," the Joker started making plaintive, lusty little groans. "The B-Black Rider finally caught the Warlock and, oh!, tried to turn him in. You know-ha, ha, ha-you know what happened, Batsy? They arrested them both! The Black Rider turned out to be the magistrate's son!"
They were now openly grinding into each other, all heated squeaking rubber and vinyl. Bruce's legs shook as a throbbing pulse started to overtake him. Mind blanked with desire-here was the real release he was searching for, an orgasm was just a bonus. He wasn't thinking about his parents or Rachel, wasn't even consumed by the violence inside of him.
The Joker's voice was high pitched and cracking, "Oh God, oh fuck, Batman, they tied them to the stake. They tied them, uh, they tied them to the stake together!"
Bruce's head was pulled up and made to look directly into gleaming eyes, at the painted face contorting in ecstasy. Allowing Bruce to watch him unfurl completely, unashamed at any perceived vulnerability, he sobbed the remainder of the story with his cresting orgasm.
"They buuuuuuurned. They burned at the stake together."
Those hands never stopped and he was gone. An electric pinch burst into waves of bliss as he came all over the Joker's skirt and lacy stockings. He allowed himself one triumph, one small victory. He managed to cry out in only loud exhalations and unintelligible sounds, pushing all needy language to the back of his mind where he prayed the Joker couldn't hear. Just like that.....don't stop.....oh God, oh God, oh fuck.....YES....yesyesyesyes.........
His knees buckled and they slid down the wall together, landing in a shallow pool of oily rainwater. The Joker poured himself into Bruce's lap and rested his slick forehead against the mask, panting into parted lips. Both of them a sweaty, tangled mess of makeup and costumed depravity.
"You know," the clown uttered breathlessly, "the locals say you can still hear them every Halloween. The Warlock and the Black Rider howling at each other in the night, tumbling and fighting 'til the end. They say it's fate, a di-vine decree. They say it's destiny. Heh, destined to go on forever."
Bruce didn't take note of the metallic clink and quick shuffling until it was too late. The Joker had somehow slipped a sticky hand free, swiftly encircling one of Bruce's wrists with the empty cuff, chaining them together. He flashed a grotesque smile, free hand now pulling a knife out of his boot.
"Hey Bats, I'm gonna haunt you........"
The End