The Thing About Excess is, Too Much is Never Enough
Characters: Zebediah Killgrave and Harley Quinn
Rating: X, for what will become obvious reasons.
Time Period: Modern
Location: Outside the Time Room and later in Zebediah's room
Relative Date: A day or so after Harley Quinn's arrival,
Status: Closed and finished
(Transcribed from an AIM chat log; Zebediah's text is in purple, and Harley's in black)
Zebediah exited the time room into the hallway connecting it to the castle, lugging behind him a cart filled with luxury items, electronics and bits of bric-a-brac he'd acquired (through one means or another) from the future. He honestly didn't know or care about what half of this stuff did, but if it set his room in the modern day apart from everyone else’s', that was sufficient reason to have them. Besides, they were nice to look at and made for good conversation pieces. And if something should happen which caused the future to change, these things could become invaluable collector's items!
He just wished that the folks he had compelled into helping him lug this stuff were able to travel with him into the present. He'd been making an effort to get back into shape lately, but the weight was not inconsiderable. He had to stop for a moment or two when he reached the stairs, figuring out how best to manage this next bit while he caught his breath.
Harley Quinn had decided to wander the castle while Ivy was busy, and so, trading costume for a near school girl-esque outfit with tights, took off. So far it had been like every other Castle/manor she'd seen and therefore a bit boring to the blond. After exploring most of the first floor she had headed for stairs only to get distracted by an interesting tapestry. She had leaned close in her pondering of the meaning of the piece when she heard something rolling in the distance behind her. She turned to the sound with a look of curiosity before going to find the source.
It lead her to a purple man with a cart, who seemed to of been stymied by the stairs. "You need a second person Purple People Eater." She put in almost cheerfully. "Or you'll be making a lot of trips." The woman gave him an amused smile. "Or you can see if they updated the place and put in elevators but I haven't found one yet."
Zebediah craned his head to look up the stairs, smiling automatically at the sight of the young woman. There was definitely something a bit peculiar about her. Something a bit "off". Granted, he'd spent the better part of the past decade - that which wasn't wasted sitting behind bars, at any event - in New York City, and thus his tolerance for peculiarity was pretty high.
"I'll have you know," he answered, grinning, "I was once a decorated secret agent. My shrewd wits and cunning intellect allow me a hundred different ways to get my plunder upstairs without even breaking a sweat."
The blond laughed. "Looks like you can't walk ten feet without sweating now mister Purple People Eater." She bounced down the stairs and taking a seat upon his loot. "Let alone get yer booty upstairs double o seven." She winked. "Course I could be persuaded to help with the right incentive." She picked up one the items. "A reward perhaps?"
Zebediah grinned. He just bet she could be persuaded. With about four words, she could be persuaded that she was an elephant. But what the heck, he was always up from some sort of a game. Lord knew he had the time to kill around here to mess around a bit. "Very generous of you, my dear," he said, leaning forwards. "And what might you have in mind in return for such an invaluable service?"
"I'd ask for cash but where the hell would I use it while stuck here yeah?" She responded. "Right now I'd do with some entertainment. Maybe one the who thingies you have in the cart." Harley presented a hand. "Harley Quinn. Pleasure."
"Zebediah Killgrave," he responded, not especially put out by her peculiar name; he dealt with idiots calling themselves things like 'Daredevil' and 'Iron Man', after all. Compared to them, she might as well have been named Jane Smith. He put out his own hand and shook it. "And it is your profound pleasure to meet me," he said conversationally. Always important to make a good first impression, and if by commanding her to experience profound pleasure on the occasion, then so much the better.
"You might be surprised about the money, though," he said, releasing her hand. "For the life of me, I can't understand why, but it seems like almost nobody here seems to be aware of the fact that we have access to an amazing city with a thriving economy. I, myself, am in fact a multi-millionaire there."
"You don't say." A particular look entered her eye as she looked him over. "Explains some things. Okay then I take it back. Pay me a nice lump sum to use in this...amazing city, and I'll help with the cart. I'm stronger then I look." She didn't look like she completely believed that part but she was willing to give a little to get a little. And hell if she didn't use it here she could take it back to Gotham with her give a bit to her family and invest the rest for her own gain. She just hoped he wasn't a con-man. She got enough of that from her father. "Well? What are we waiting for?" She hopped down. "Where's your room?"
He shrugged his shoulders. Why not? He could always just ask someone in the future to transfer however much cash he gave her into his bank account from theirs and walk away none the poorer for it. If moving around a few imaginary numbers saved him some work, then he was game. "Just up the stairs," he indicated with his hand, "Third door on the left. Though I suppose technically it could be any room I wanted it to be. Most of them seem to be abandoned."
He bent down, grabbing hold of the front of the cart with both hands, ready to lift any time she took the rear.
She nodded and squatted down slightly to grab the rear (A thought that nearly made her giggle), "On three. One, two, Three." She lifted in time with him and breath out a breath. "Got gold bricks in here?" Harley asked lightly, carefully following him.
"A couple, yeah," he laughed. "What can I say, I'm a sucker for the classics. Nothing says 'eccentric aristocrat' like having lucre strewn haplessly around one's room. If they used paper money in the future, I'd get some wads of that to toss about carelessly, too." He edged his way up the stairs carefully, taking it one step at a time as he moved backwards.
"I don't know. I thought it was those weird gold busts that screamed Eccentric Aristocrat. Though that's a bit over done now. I haven't kept up with the trends." She laughed breathlessly. "Diamonds. You should do diamonds. Those are always fun. Or plants. But that's more my friend's calling. Biiiig plants. Smart plants. Lets poison and eat the wittle humans plants."
He couldn't help but laugh breathlessly at her ramblings. She was a fun one. He'd have to see about keeping her around for a while, he decided. "There's an idea," he agreed. "I can see if there's any artisans I can coerce into crafting busts of myself out of gold and diamonds. Maybe one for each of several moods. Base them upon the Greek muses or something. Assuming those cultureless clods even remember Greek antiquity." He reached the first landing on the stairwell and leveled out a bit, feeling his back crack as he did so.
"You should name one Hubris." She agreed setting the cart down for a moment to stand for a moment, not caring if she got the reference right or not. "You should do something different though. Like Amethyst." Harley nodded sagely. "Not quite as expensive but it would be more in your style I'd think. Ready for the next go?" She grabbed her end of the cart again.
He sighed theatrically and then bent down, picking up his end of the cart again. "A trifle obvious, don't you think? Amethyst? Besides which, hubris," he grunted as he began up the next flight of stairs, "is a concept reserved for mere mortals. I like to think that I left that flotsam behind long ago. Let mighty Poseidon rage all he wants about what washes up on his shores if he likes. I'll be flapping around the sun on my magnificent wings, thank you very much."
"Obvious yes. But pretty." She answered back, giggling as his dramatic sigh. Harley sobered at his statement about hubris before tilting her head, the part of her that was still Doctor Harleen Quinzel analyzing it. "You know that's very telling of you." She smiled sweetly.
"Oh, I'm sure it is, but..." he said, smirking. All of this sweating he was doing meant he was probably just filling this narrow stairwell with pheremones, and with her heavy breathing just a few feet away..."you find it to be incredibly charming and ingratiating," he provided.
The sweet girlish smile, melted to a look of confusion and a touch of annoyance. She gave a quick shake of her head as if something was bothering her. "Maybe I do." She answered vaguely, frowning slightly. "I don't know." Why did the man's voice seem to stick in her head now in a bothersome manner that reminded her of something.
He observed the confusion of expressions which played across her face with some fascination. He'd encountered several people over the years who were resistant to his abilities, and a much, much smaller number who simply had the willpower to say 'no'. The thought of those rarest of encounters were enough to send chills up his spine. This seemed like the former, though, and that, in his experience, always meant some sort of biological anomaly. Curiouser and curiouser. With those, he found, a subtler touch was required. "Relax," he said, "Don't worry about it." Those were two commands that most minds were all too happy to receive, Soothing and gentle, they made the day more pleasant.
He reached the top step and gratefully lowered the cart back down to the ground with a thump. "Just a bit further now."
The frown smoothed out to a small smile though there was still that bare hint of confusion. "Right." She mumbled. "No worries here..."
Harley set the cart down and stretched, rolling her shoulders. "Coolies. I wanna see how Daedalus lives." She quirked a playful smile, starting to through off the effects from earlier and easing into the new subtle command.
"Well, then, let's carry on," he said, smiling gently. Much better. It seemed it would be a bit of a game with this one. Nothing wrong with that. Indeed, he thought he might have just the thing for it.
He picked up the handle on the cart and began to tow it along behind him until he arrived at his door a few moments later. Fishing his key out of his pocket (one could never be too careful when this sort of wealth was involved!), be slipped it into the lock and cast the door wide open. "Welcome to my humble abode," he said, gesturing grandly with one arm.
The room was no bigger than anyone else's, but a number of body-length mirrors placed strategically around the room certainly gave the impression of greater volume. All about was a collection of art objects, luxurious furniture, valuables (including, ostentatiously, a large crystal goblet filled with gems) and curious devices of mysterious function. Presently, he strode over to one of them and tapped its surface, causing it to fill the room with strange, soothing music. "One of the first things I brought back from the future," he said. "This place needed some music, even if they don't seem to have any cultural recollection of the classics."
"Right!" She bounced following him cheerfully, looking around and taking it in. After all she lived in one the houses with Ivy. Not the castle itself. When he stopped she paused next to him, rocking on her feet slowly as she watched him. The woman peered around him and quirked a smile. "Opulent." She commented as she stepped in after him.
The woman went over to the crystal goblet and studied it before moving on to the next item. To her the mirrors was just another thing that made Zebediah Killgrave a little more understandable to her and easier to manipulate if needed.
"Well, why not be opulent," he asked, his voice laconic. "We're trapped in a cage like rats. To me, it's simply a question of whether my portion of the cage be lined with scratchy bits of sawdust, or with luxurious, comfortable goose down. In those terms, it's not even a question." He bent down and opened the mini-bar he kept near to his bed, pulling out a bottle of chilled wine he had lifted from the hotel. With his other hand, he snatched up a pair of glasses close at hand. "Care for a refreshment as a down-payment upon your moving fee?"
She wandered over, simply nodding to his observation. "Yeah. Why not." Harley sat down on his bed. "I haven't had a good wine in a while." The woman laid back for a moment, as if she owned the bed looking utterly relaxed and unworried but in truth was watching him from under her lashes.
"Hm. Then I think you're in for a treat," he said. He tugged the cart the rest of the way into his room and shut the door, then kicked his shoes off carelessly beside it. "Whatever else the future may be lacking in culture, they've certainly done an excellent job of advancing the art and science of alcoholism." He popped open the bottle and poured out half of its contents into the two glasses. "I'm not even sure what this stuff is made from. I can't imagine how they might have any vinyards out there, but it tastes amazing." He sat down on the bed next to her, handing her a glass and taking a sip from his own.
She sat back up easily taking the glass. Harley turned and rest on her hip and elbow, saluting the man. "To the advancement of Alcoholism." The woman took a sip, humming as the flavor blanketed her tongue. "Oh my. This really is good."
"Isn't it, though?" He drank a bit deeper, "I'll tell you something, the people in that future society are like some sort of strange, mirror-image of the Soviet Union or something." He twisted himself about so that he was laying back against his pillows, and, not coincidentally, one of his legs were brushing up against hers. "The soviets made this conscious decision to try to eradicate any trace of the culture they came from and develop something from scratch which celebrated work and frowned on joy and exuberance. These people," he gestured in no particular direction with the hand holding his glass, "have had all traces of their culture wiped out due to what I gather to have been an unfortunate nuclear exchange, and have also had to re-build their culture from scratch. The chief difference being..." he took another sip, smiling at the taste, "...they seem to have put personal hedonism as their highest virtue."
"Huh you don't say." She hummed sipping her drink, letting her leg cross over his almost tangling them. "I should go there. It would be interesting to do my own comparison."
"You should," he agreed. He rubbed his leg, softly, back and forth against hers as he spoke, not drawing any particular attention to it. "As far as I can tell, virtually everyone who comes here spends all their time in this drafty, snow-encrusted, lonely castle. I don't think I've seen a single person just taking in the town and enjoying the nightlife. It's like they've all got..." he struggled for the word. "Anhedionia! That's it. Just so determined to mope around and be miserable."
"Or get free." She pointed out. "Get back to the lives they know. After all it is they human way to fear what change brings. They don't stop to consider what opportunities that are possible. Not like you are obvious capable of doing. You take change and make it into decadence." Harley gestured with her wine. She turned back to the man with an easy smile. "Little ants going with their little lives marching on and on never noticing the ant eater poised the strike."
He nodded his head sagely, "There was a meeting here, not long ago. Just about everyone at the castle at the time was in attendance. I barely recognized any of them," he shook his head disgustedly. "I'd been staying at the hotel in the future, for the most part, and never saw any of them there. They were all so determined to make their way out of this place, but it was obvious that none of them had the faintest clue how to actually go about it. You had it exactly right," he said, shifting closer to her, "Like ants. All just blindly following their little scent trails..." he placed the tips of his fingers on her arm, making light, scurrying motions with them, from her wrist upwards, "without a clue where it leads." He finished off his drink and set the glass aside. "I'm prepared to sit back and see what becomes of them before I have any interest in following, thank you very much."
She watched his hand before looking into her glass with a thoughtful little smile. "I can't say much. I wouldn't mind getting home either but I don't see the rush in it. I have the most important thing here." The woman drank down the rest of rest of her own wine. "I am curious to know more about this place though. Mind sharing what you know?”
"Hmm, I don't see why not." He reached over to the wine bottle and gestured towards her with it, questioningly, "What would you like to know?"
She offered her glass. "Start from the beginning and work your way to the now? I'm very new here." Harley smiled cutely.
He topped her glass up with a smile, and set the bottle back down again. He knew from experience that the stuff was strong, and hoped to see if it would loosen up her inhibitions a bit, which could make her easier to influence, and then things could become a bit more interesting. For the time being, though, her company was pleasant enough in and of itself. "Alright, then," he said, musingly, "My understanding is that we're in a castle in England. The shape of the power outlets is probably enough to tell you that much, though. Not necessarily the England you know, though. It seems that - and I know how crazy this sounds - a number of the people who are here have been brought here from a number of different parallel worlds. Are you familiar with the concept?"
"I am." She nodded. "I actually had first hand experience but that's another story." Harley sipped her drink. "So it is possible that even if we get outside the barrier we'll be unable to get home anyways....Then the helicopter must be able to go through dimensions but I didn't notice anything..."
"Neither did I," he said, "neither has anyone else, it seems. Strange, right? There's one woman who claims to be from the 5th century, and even she doesn't seem to have seen any especially strange transition. However they do it, it has to involve those helicopters of theirs, or something in them. The pilots maybe. Those guys are odd ducks themselves, let me tell you. Like robots or something." He was still rubbing his leg languidly up and down along hers, but as much as he was enjoying that, he decided he wouldn't mind a little more. "You'd like to get a bit closer," he informed her, curious to see how that would go.
The woman hummed softly, idly wishing the had Zatanna or perhaps one the others they used that knew magic. "Yeah it is odd. Perhaps the pilots are constructs of a... different." She indeed moved closer now straddling his leg. There was a hint of confusion on her face but she didn't question it too much being like this. It had been so long since even Mister J had touched her. "Sort." Harley looked down, her head slightly tilted. "Whew...what's in this wine?"
"Good question," He said, laughing softly. He held up the bottle to her, for her perusal. However much time had passed between now and the future it came from, the English language had evidently changed considerably in that time. He couldn't read a word of the label, himself. "If you can tell me, I'll be glad to hear it." He continued to move his leg up and down against hers, slowly and rhythmically. In her new position, his thigh was moving against her inner thighs with each movement, and every so often, just a little bit higher, brushing up against her ever so lightly, between her legs. He tilted the bottle forwards, without asking, to pour some more of it into her glass for her, emptying it and then putting it aside. "They say they've got one of the pilots tied up down in the basement or something. I'm still waiting to see what they can get out of him, but..." he casually moved an arm around her shoulder, "...I'm not holding my breath."
The woman looked the bottle over and wrinkled her nose pertly. "Got me too." Her breath caught slightly as his thigh brushed against her apex. She blushed slightly and cleared her throat. "Obvious language has changed or they have taken up some sort of universal language..." Harley watched as he topped off her drink. She gave him an amused smile. "If I didn't know better I'd say you are trying to get me drunk. I'm really not that sort of girl." Yet she couldn't bring herself to move away.
"You never know. Pain tends to make people talk more freely. And if they are controlled humans then the pain can shake them free of whatever is controlling them."
"Perish the thought. Of course you aren't," he said, moving his leg slightly more deliberately up against her, "but you have to think that behaving as though you were might be fun sometimes," he informed her, smilingly, passing off his mental compulsion as though it were mere conversation.
"Personally," he went on, drawing her slowly closer to him with his arm, "I think they're giving the jailers here too little credit. If I were them, and I had the resources they have, I'd brainwash some poor schmuck to believe whatever lies I wanted my prisoners to believe, set him up to crash, and let them waste weeks of time thinking they've got some great victory on their hands as they fill their minds with whatever nonsense I want them to think." He smirked. "Secret agent, remember?"
The woman rubbed down against his leg a hand coming up to rest on his chest, as she nodded. "Of course but it doesn't always give you want you want." She knew from experience.
She took another sip of her wine and set it aside as he drew her close. "Ex-villainess. It would be too easy to do that. And anyone with half a brain could easily work through a brainwashing. I've seen it before. Besides if they are the good side then they don't think it's truly a victory and will spend time trying to heal the man up."
He smiled, feeling her pressing down upon his leg, her growing heat pleasingly exciting him. He obliged her, pushing his leg up into her, back and forth, until his pelvis was pressed against hers, moving back and forth slowly and deliberately. "Lapsed villainess, surely," he chuckled, filing that bit away for future reference. It might have some bearing upon her earlier resistance, "and either way, I'm sure you understand the hypocrisy of the folks who imagine themselves to be on this mythical 'good side'."
"Oh there is a good side but it's all muddled." Harley argued, grinding against him slowly. "Good intention is muddied by the blood shed. The hero has blood on his hands from his fights. And the victim will always hate the person they wronged him. But on the other hand evil is just as muddled. I have yet to find someone truly evil. Even Hitler, in his insanity, did things cause he thought he was making the world better. It's a bad comparison and I makes me feel icky to say it but there it is."
"I don't see it as all that muddled," he said, his free hand moving around behind her. He flipped up her skirt, and slipped his hand down into her panties, grasping her muscular bottom, pulling her into him with each movement. "Or at least it doesn't need to be. I see myself as living quite comfortably in the gray area. My eyes are clear." he kneaded her buttock with his fingers. "No illusions of moral superiority. I simply am what I am." He leaned forwards, placing a quick kiss upon her neck. "And isn't that lovely?"
She hummed softly at the pleasant feeling of him kneading and groping. "People make it such. Unknowingly but they do." Harley stated in a distracted manner. "And when they finally notice and try to set it to rights the minds slowly start to crumble. No one is purely good or purely evil they simply exist. Driven by urges. Clearly you've learned that lesson early. Even if you do still have a complex." She teased.
"Exactly," he said, kissing his way up her neck, "We all just act upon our own... urges." His hand slipped further down, past her buttocks and between her legs. His fingers pressing into her moistness as he found it. "Some people think their best interests lay in serving their society." He slipped a finger inside of her, "Some people in serving themselves. But in the end, it all comes down to getting what you want."
Harley bared her neck, shivering at the pleasant feel of the man's lips on the graceful column of her neck. That was till his fingers found her causing a breathy moan to escape her, her concentration scattering. "I want more." She whispered on the heels of his statement, falling more under his spell. Really, like she had said right along, people should really start paying attention to her or she wouldn't have given in so easily to something she craved.
"Do you, now," he asked, smiling as he gave her neck a long, luxurious lick, "Tell me what you want." His finger paused deeper into her even as he pressed his pelvis hard against hers. "Be specific," he started pulling her panties down and off of her with his other hand. "Be filthy."
"I want you. Inside me. Fucking me hard. So that pleasure boarders pain." She shuddered, her nails digging into the man's chest, as she lightly clenched around the intruding digit. "I want to make me sloppy. I want your cum inside me. Just fuck me damnit." She growled, tearing at his shirt.
"See, now?" He said, smiling from ear to ear, "Clarity of vision. That's what I like to see." He finished pulling her panties lose, damp and moist in his hand, and tossed them to the far side of the room. He thrust his face towards her, kissing her hard on the mouth, and pushing his tongue inwards to meet hers even as his hands worked to unbuckle his belt and shove his pants and boxers aside, allowing his stiff manhood to spring free.
Harley growled and kissed him back, nipping his lip when his tongue withdrew for a moment, as her hands found him. She wouldn't take this laying down so to speak. No she liked to be far active in this particular activity. She purred slightly as her tongue tangled with his, the woman stroked him slowly. After a moment she broke away to catch her breath.
He grabbed hold of her blouse with both hands, ripping it open with a single yank, popping buttons as he went, and as it hung loose and open before him, he grabbed hold of her left breast, kneading it hard between his fingers. She said she wanted it to hurt, and he was willing to give it to her. His other hand returned to work between her legs, massaging her moist, smooth lips for a few moments before plunging two fingers into her and beginning to fuck her with them in earnest. All the while, he stared into her eyes, watching them cloud over with desire that he was sure she was seeing in his own. He rocked his hips against her hand, relishing the feel of her fingers wrapped around him, wanting more, but willing to wait and see how long she could stand the anticipation before she needed to make her move.
The woman groaned low in throat, squeezing his member as she stroked. Her typically bright blue eyes had darkened to a near midnight color when his fingers plunged into her. It felt good, wonderful, but she wanted more and just imagining the prick she felt in her hands plunging into her wrung a moan from her lips. It was different from how the Joker had normally done her the few times she finally got him to get in bed with her near the end.
He pushed her bra up and off of her breasts, causing them to spring loose before him. Eagerly, he dropped his head down, taking her left nipple into his mouth and sucked on it, teasing its tip with his tongue inside of his mouth. His fingers worked inside of her, feeling her become wetter and wetter by the moment as her hips rocked against his hand. His other hand squeezed her bottom, hard, before giving it a quick, hard, slap, and then caressing it with soft but urgent strokes. Invoulentarily, his hips pressed further and further towards hers with each forwards thrust, until he could practically feel the heat radiating off of her pussy against his member.
Harley's arched from the bed, as if trying to offer more of herself to Zebediah's ministrations until he spanked her. A pleased, surprised squeal escaped her and she writhed slightly as the man just as quickly started to sooth the pain away. The contrast of the actions went straight to her core and that coupled with the feeling of him so close to being inside her set her to begging. Softly at first but picking up urgency.
Her soft, almost incoherent pleas of desire were all he needed to hear. He removed his fingers from within her, and brushed her hand away from his cock. Taking it in hand, with one sure, slow movement, he maneuvered it to her entrance and pushed it in, the head of his cock sliding against her lips, and then deep within her. The hand upon her bum pulled her downwards until she was entirely impaled upon him, her pelvis pushed wetly against his own. As he began to slowly move in and out of her, he pulled his face from her breast, so he could watch her as he presented his damp fingers to her. "Suck them clean," he whispered, throatily, "and love every moment of it."
The woman sighed happily as he finally pushed into her, her legs coming up to wrap around his waist. He didn't even have to give her last order as she wrapped her lips around the wet digits and swirled her tongue around them her hips arching up to meet each thrust of his, her heel digging into the curve of his ass for purchase. She gave a throaty moan of pleasure and cat like grin on her lips as she cleaned his fingers, her hair partly haloed around her head as her breasts swayed and jiggled with each move.
"Hmmm, dirty girl," he said, pushing his fingers in and out of her mouth, enjoying her sensual tongue upon them. "I like it." As if in reward, he gave her ass another hard smack, a loud, wet slapping noise filling the room as the two sweaty surfaces met one another. He took just a moment to reach up with that hand and worked to free the loose blouse from her, leaving her only in her askew bra and skirt. His hand then returned to her ass, squeezing it and stroking it in time with the movements of his hips. He was gradually picking up in pace, now, fucking her hard, his balls swaying against her thighs, and his strokes within her deep and lusty. He bent forwards, biting her shoulder and suckling upon her sweaty, aromatic skin.
Harley mewled as he spanked her again, inner muscles clenching around him quick and hard. She growled softly, a light coming to her eyes as he started to really get into it. It was like his hands were everywhere a sensation that excited her and made her feel desirable. She finally closed her eyes as he started marking her just enjoying the heavy feel of him slapping against her thigh, the thickness of him inside her, and his mouth against her. Harl made a pleading sound that almost seemed like she was begging for it harder. She could take it after all.
He lifted her leg upwards, as they lay side by side, giving him greater access to her, and began to really move, each thrust into her hammering home with a wet slap. If she wanted it rough, she would get it rough. He nibbled his way up her neck, biting and sucking as he went, and his hand on her ass moved inwards until his index finger pressed against her asshole, which he started pushing it in and out of, slowly, their combined sweat acting as a lubricant. He ground his hips against hers, holding his cock deep inside of her for several long moments before varying his tempo, giving her a series of short, quick thrusts.
Oh that was a far different sensation but not in a bad way. Oh no in fact in wrung all sorts of sounds from her ranging from soft moans to giggles to gasps when things hit just that edge of pain unexpectedly. Then it all hit that peak as everything coalesced into a surprisingly perfect whole. She cried out wordlessly, feeling almost embarrassed that it seemed to be ending so soon. That she came so soon after things were starting to get particularly good.
He felt her spamming and bucking on him, seeming to be milking him within her, and he decided to give her exactly what she wanted. He picked up his pace, moving to a crescendo of speed, before feeling an explosion moving outwards from the core of him. He let out a long, low, shuddering moan as he came inside of her, filling her with his fluids. As he caught his breath, his breathing beginning to slow, he continued to move himself in and out of her; his softening member in front, his finger now deep in her rear, and let out a long, contented sigh.
Harley shivered with little aftershocks, sighing as well. Her sigh settled into a low hum of pleasure even as her body still jerked from time to time. "Oh no more..." She pleaded playfully. "I'm slain." Though if the man was up for another go soon she would not complain. The woman looked like a very content cat who'd gotten the proverbial cream. "Was good." Harl complimented, her cheeks a touch pink from sex and a bit of embarrassment.
A bit of post-coital play wasn't out of the question, but Zebediah wasn't as young as he used to be (and hey, who was?). It would be a while before he'd be up for another round, even with this pretty young thing. "Hm, for you and me both, sweetheart," he muttered contentedly. He bent forwards, kissing her lightly on the tip of her nose, and then, once more, upon her lips. "I think that was pretty much exactly what we both needed just then." His free hand moved to her back, sliding slickly up her spine, to her bra clasp, which he unhooked, tugging the garment away from her. When it was off, he pressed his chest into hers, feeling her hot little nipples sliding up and down against him as their breathing slowly returned to normal.
The woman cuddled, an easy smile on her face though something did niggle the back of her mind. It was something that she figured she could deal with later but right now she felt to good to bother with it. She felt oh so floaty and buzzy and it was enough to put the ex psychiatrist in a good mood, a very good mood. "Mmm. You smell good." She murmured softly. "A bit like Red's pheromones but more masculine." Harley whispered almost drowsily as if she'd drift off any moment even though she was fairly awake if very comfortable at the moment.
Quite the sensitive little nose this one had on her! "I get that a lot," he answered warmly. "Minus the 'red' part, naturally." He withdrew his member, now entirely soft again, from within her, and replaced it with his hand. He softly pushed his fingers between her moist folds and playfully rubbed against her clit while his finger in her rear continued its slow movement in and out of her. "Friend of yours," he asked, half-curiously.
She shuddered in delight as he toyed with her. It had been a long time since someone had lingered like this with her after sex. "Best friend. Saved my life," Harley moaned softly. "After Mister J tried to kill me." She felt a stab of sadness as she remembered the Joker. "She could killed me no problem too."
"Mm, that's right," he said, remembering. "That 'ex-villainess' matter from before, wasn't it? What's the story there?" She was plainly quite physically fit - PLAINLY - but beyond that, the nature of it was a bit of a mystery to him.
"Ever heard of the Joker?" She asked, almost tensely.
His mind immediately went to the Jester; an imbicile in a clown costume that he was insulted to think of a sort of co-antagonist of Daredevil's, though one with a significantly less illustrious career than himself. "Not off of the top of my head, though I confess that I don't do the best job of keeping up with the rest of what one might call the 'super-villain community'. I've never been much for team-ups. Well," he corrected himself, slipping his fingers downwards and inside of her, "Not in the conventional sense, anyway."
Harley arched in enjoyment. "I use to be a psychiatrist. At the Arkham Asylum before I met him. He was so charming...So insane. Splintered..."And he broke her to match him. "Always trying to best the Batman. It was like a game to him. And I fell in love with him. I helped him escape. Became his side kick. And one day he tied me to a rocket to lure Batman in. He fired the rocket anyways and I landed in Red's territory."
"Ugh. I've known guys like that. Obsessed with a given 'hero' for whatever reason. They lose focus, they spend more time figuring out how to cause trouble for that one guy than on how to actually succeed in whatever goals originally brought them into conflict with them in the first place. I understand holding a grudge, you understand," he added quickly; he had spent plenty of time fantasizing about seeing Daredevil's head splattered in a gutter somewhere, where it belonged, "but allowing yourself to be controlled by it like that is a kind of sickness if you ask me." He slowly rocked his hand back and forth underneath her, rubbing his fingers against her g-spot as he spoke, and impulsively pushed his finger right up to the last knuckle into her bum, wriggling it around inside of her for a few moments.
Harl moaned lightly. "Oh that's such an odd sensation." She murmured, pressing against him before slowly relaxing enjoying the feel. "He thought they were destined to do be at odds...and I was okay helping him for the longest time." It a way she still loved him but he'd tried to kill her one too many times so after shooting him in the shoulder and leaving him to Batman she bade him a not so fond farewell. "It was stupid of me I suppose to let myself be led on for so long."
"Well, if you ask me, you're better off without him," he said, planting a quick kiss on her neck. "Guys like that always self-destruct eventually, and take down anyone stupid enough to be standing near them when they do. It's crazy. See, that's why I came here... thinking I was taking a trip to Brazil, mind you, but even so... getting out of town and just enjoying life rather than sticking around and butting heads stupidly with some costumed idiots." Her reactions, and her movements against him were starting to get him just a little bit hard again, which got him thinking. He leaned in and whispered into her ear, "How would you like to try something else down here," he asked, swirling his finger around inside of her rear entrance.
And that was the truth of the matter. Joker nearly had. More then once. She hummed softly. "Yeah. Isn't that the truth. Brazil though. Ivy went there. Liked it. Maybe I should visit." She shivered as he whispered in her ear. "I'm willing to try." The woman whispered.
"Hmm, an adventurous spirit. Got to love that," he said, and kissed her on the lips. He withdrew his fingers, wetly, from both of her orifices, and shifted away from her on the bed, moving towards his bedside dresser. As he did so, he spoke conversationally. "Brazil has a lot of charm. So does anywhere that doesn't have a lot of costumed weirdos clustered around. You ever notice how they all sort of bunch up in their little clubs?" He opened up a drawer from his dresser, pulling out a tube of lubricant. It hadn't seen a lot of use since he'd gotten here, but now he was glad he'd kept it on-hand. "I have an idea about that. It's about validation." He moved back towards her. "Get your skirt off, by the way, it's getting all messed-up." He popped the cap off of the tube, looking at her with mischief in his eyes. "They look at each other in their costumes, and they feel like what they're doing is normal. Like a furry convention. Out on their own, in a place like Brazil, though? They stand out like a guy in a fur suit at a shopping mall. And what does that do to their precious egos?" He squirted a goodly amount of the lube into one hand as he moved closer to her.
She wiggled out of her skirt chuckling softly. "And they don't do a single heroic thing while out of costume. The costume its self is a shield to give them courage and reason. Without it they are just as scared and as weak as any one of us." She nodded. "Its the same for both sides. But for the bad side it is a way to let us continue on the streets without being bothered if we want some time off from it all." She raised an eyebrow. "Do a bit of back door plundering with your lovers then?" Harley asked jokingly.
"Well, you're about to find out, pretty girl," he said, slapping her ass playfully. "Now roll over. Face down, ass up." He began to apply the lube to himself first, growing steadily harder with the anticipation. "And I've never been one for costumes, myself. Tried it once. Felt absurd. A suit and tie has always been classy enough for me, thanks."
She rolled to her hands and knees. "I rather like my costume. It's very well fitting, shows off the curves. Never had any of the guys complain." Harley grinned back at him playfully.
"Maybe later you can show it off for me," he said. He was man enough to admit he had a bit of a double standard where the form-fitting outfits on the ladies were concerned. "But for now, I want you to reach back and spread them for me."
Harley blushed a bit and reached back, spreading herself open for the man as she lowered her front down to the bed. It felt horribly open and unprotected to be like that for her.
"Very nice," he said, smiling. He decided to give her something a little extra special. Leaning down, He extended his tongue and gave her a long lick, teasing her bum-hole with the tip of his tongue.
She made a soft squeak of surprise. "Oh!" That was...well. She'd never...Wow what had she been missing out on in the bedroom!?
He chuckled softly at her reaction, and swirled his tongue around some more, pushing the tip of it into her for a moment or two before placing a soft kiss upon it. "Like that, do you?"
"Oh yes." She breathed. "No one has ever done that to me." The woman felt strangely virginal and untried with all that she'd experienced so far. You'd think the Joker would be creative in bed but really he wasn't. Not like this.
"Hm. Well, maybe you'd like a little more." With his unlubricated hand - no need to waste good product when she was obviously still so wet - he reached down and started playing with her pussy, conveniently on-display for him as well. A pair of fingers pushed into her and began a slow-but-accelerating in-and-out movement as his twisted them around. He then moved back to her ass, lavishing it with three long, hard licks and then a series of softer, quicker ones.
Harley moaned happily, giggling softly at the mixed sensations she was feeling. "Feels so good." She let her eyes flutter close as she enjoyed the attention he was lavishing on her.
"If you like," he said, between licks, "you can try it on me later on. What's good for the goose, after all..." And speaking of gooses, he took that moment to take his lubricated hand and introduce some finger-play into the mix, pushing his finger inwards. The lubrication made it an easier passage than it might otherwise have, even on an untried orifice like this. Nevertheless, he knew full well it wouldn't be without some pain for the girl. Not that she was likely to mind.
She bit her lip slightly. "Maybe." Harley rocked back slightly against his hand, whether to buck him off or to get more of the sensation only she'd know. "I won't be able to walk when I go home. I know it." The blond murmured softly.
He laughed warmly. "Then I'll just toss you on my cart there and give you a ride. One good turn deserves another." He introduced a second finger to her anus, slowly pushing it inwards and stretching it out, twisting his hand about as he went and thoroughly coating it with lubricant. His fingers down below in her pussy were doing similar work, moving faster and with more purpose now.
"Only if I can sing along the way." She laughed the sound tapering into another pleased moan. "Course that's only if you don't mind me annoying everyone else." She grinned playfully.
"Do I seem like the sort who's concerned with a bit of ostentation," he asked, laughing. He figured that that would be about good enough, and withdrew his fingers from her with an audible little 'pop' noise. He grasped his member, giving it one more quick smear of lube before lining it up with her entrance. "Ready for a good, hard ass-fucking," he asked, lowering his own tone for a moment. Sometimes a bit of outright dirty talk was exciting.
A small shudder went through her. "Are you going to tear me up?" She asked lowly. "Or are you all words?" Harley taunted, smirking. "Show me what you have."
"Ooh, a challenge. You asked for it." He pushed himself inwards, gripping and guiding himself with one hand even as he held her spread-wide ass-cheeks with the other. Slowly, at first, his head nudged its way inside of her, and then, with greater force, he pushed his hips forwards until he was entirely buried in her, savouring the warm, and very tight grip she had on his member.
She gasped and cringed at first, both at the pain and the odd sensation of being fucked there but she slowly relaxed and finally rocked back against him. "Do it!" Harley cried, edging on begging. "I want to feel it."
"Remember you asked for it," he said, smiling from ear to ear. He drew himself backwards, until he was half-way withdrawn from her before slamming forwards again, filling her up with himself again. Back again, and then forwards, in long, forceful strokes. There was no further need for her hands to be on her ass at this point, and so as his breath became quicker and shorter, he directed her, 'Play with your pussy, girl. Let's get some double penetration going here."
The woman moaned softly, eyes fluttering slightly as he slammed into her. Harley murmured softly as she shifted to brace herself, a hand slipping between her legs to play with herself. Her fingers plunged into her own channel as the heel of her palm rubbed against her clit in a sinfully teasing manner. She wasn't so slutty she knew but something about him about this made her want things she never thought of wanting before.
He bent forwards, placing one hand on the bed next to her head to support himself as his other hand reached around and grasped her breast, twisting and teasing her nipple between his fingers. His hips continued their movement, driving him in and out of her asshole with wet, deliciously obscene sounds matched by those made by her hand a few inches away. He dipped his head down, licking her back, tracing the curve of her spine and tasting her sweat in a long, luscious trail.
Harley shivered in delight. Those sounds. God those sounds did something to her. "Zeb....oh holy cheez. It feels so good." She whimpered softly. "Its almost too much."
"That's the thing about excess, Harley-girl," he moaned into her ear, "too much is never enough." And with that, he quickened his pace behind her, pushing himself furiously in and out of her. He leaned down with his head, biting her sweaty shoulder, hard enough to leave a bruise. He was getting close now, and intended to make it a grand finale.
She squealed softly her free hand bunching up in the sheet as her other moved faster and harder, as if trying to meet the man's pace. When the man bit down she shouted in a mix of pain, surprise and pleasure. "Yes! Oh sweet god yes!" Her back bowed with the force of her release as she unknowingly bit her lip, drawing blood.
He could feel her spamming under and around him, her ass squeezing and pressing upon him in all directions. He Leaned back into an upright position so as to get the most possible leverage and the best possible view as he rammed himself home into her ass another half-dozen times before finally feeling himself shudder and moan, the climax claiming him as he shot his load deep into her rear. He continued to ride her ass for another dozen or so strokes, enjoying and prolonging the moment, but now he really was well and truly exhausted.
She trembled in his hold, moaning softly. "I'm dead." As he continued even after he came. "I feel all loose and floaty." Harley purred, relaxing slightly. "Tingly."
He chuckled softly, pulling himself out of her, causing a bit of his fluids to leak down out of her, and dribbling down towards her pussy below. He maneuvered around beside her, finally flopping down on his side on the sheet beside her. Playfully, he pushed her over, so that she was lying on her back and he could have a better look at her post-coital bliss. "Well, I do aim to please," he said, idly reaching over and playing with one of her nipples.
The woman fell over easily. "You did that and more." She squeaked when the man played with her chest. "I'll talk! I'll talk!" She laughed lightly. She looked over at him. "Usually I'm not so quick to jump in bed with people..."
He shrugged. There were a lot of things a lot of people did around him that they didn't normally do. It was so natural a part of his life that he barely even thought about it in those terms any more. "Well, I have a winning personality," he said. "And it doesn't sound to me as though you regret it."
He reached down between her legs, still slick and moist with their combined fluids, and fingered her lightly for a few moments, scooping some up on the tips of his fingers, then presented them to her mouth once more, watching languidly, a soft smile on his face and half-lidded eyes.
"Oh I don't think I do." She murmured before suckling on his fingers like a hungry kitten. "I'm be happy to do it ago some time." Harley murmured when she let his fingers go. "I had a lot of fun." She grinned.
"You and me both, dirty girl," he said, gently pushing his fingers in and out of her mouth. "And for your information? That is always dead sexy. I could just watch you do that all day long."
She gently caught his fingers with her teeth and swirled his tongue around the digits.
He chuckled, smiling at the sight of her. He took her own hand, so recently deep inside of her snatch, and sucked it into his own mouth, returning the favour.
Her breath caught lightly and she moved closer to him, twining around him.
He wrapped his free hand around her, holding her sweaty form against his, and cupping her bottom warmly. Pulling his fingers from her mouth, and hers from his, he leaned in and kissed her, tasting the tangy flavour of her blood on her lip from earlier. He licked it up, and then slid his tongue into her mouth.
Harley hummed, kissing him back easily as her fingers traced over his side. "Mmm. Sadly I am going to have to go soon. Or Red will come looking for me." She sighed contently.
"Hm. This 'Red' again," he said, frowning slightly. "We got distracted before you could tell me who that was." His fingers slid up and down her body, tweaking here, poking there as they went, before coming to rest between her legs.
"She's my best friend and my roomie."
"So, someone from the outside that you're lucky enough to have as a cell-mate, eh," he asked, his fingers lightly, idly playing with her.
The woman hummed in pleasure. "Yeah. I actually came her cause I got a ticket said that she was taken."
"Hah!" he laughed, rubbing her clit lightly with the tip of one finger. "Nice to know that once in a while, those tickets aren't total lies."
She shuddered lightly. "Yeah. Still didn't make me very happy. She saved my life so I owe her one."
"I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to pay her back later," he said, swirling his fingertip around. "But you're a big girl now, and I'm sure she'll understand if you want to spend the night out."
Harley moaned softly, "And I thought I had drive." She snuggled.
"Oh, I don't think I'm up for much more just now..." he said, chuckling and softly rubbing a pair of fingertips up and down within her folds, "Just playing. Stay the night, though, and I'm sure we can find some new and entertaining activities later on."
"Very true." Harley mumbled. "I suggest a nap. Most definitely."
"There's the spirit," he said, kissing her lightly on the lips. "Alright. Sleep peacefully for eight hours, dreaming wonderful dreams..." he said to her, and then, impishly, as an afterthought, "...and then wake me up with a blowjob."
Simple instructions, and in keeping with the moment, he had little doubt that her mind would gladly receive such commands.
She nuzzled close. "Yeah. Sleep, dream, blowjob." Harley mumbled, already drifting off.
"Good girl," he said, tugging up the sheets and blankets.
This one was a keeper.
Rating: X, for what will become obvious reasons.
Time Period: Modern
Location: Outside the Time Room and later in Zebediah's room
Relative Date: A day or so after Harley Quinn's arrival,
Status: Closed and finished
(Transcribed from an AIM chat log; Zebediah's text is in purple, and Harley's in black)
Zebediah exited the time room into the hallway connecting it to the castle, lugging behind him a cart filled with luxury items, electronics and bits of bric-a-brac he'd acquired (through one means or another) from the future. He honestly didn't know or care about what half of this stuff did, but if it set his room in the modern day apart from everyone else’s', that was sufficient reason to have them. Besides, they were nice to look at and made for good conversation pieces. And if something should happen which caused the future to change, these things could become invaluable collector's items!
He just wished that the folks he had compelled into helping him lug this stuff were able to travel with him into the present. He'd been making an effort to get back into shape lately, but the weight was not inconsiderable. He had to stop for a moment or two when he reached the stairs, figuring out how best to manage this next bit while he caught his breath.
Harley Quinn had decided to wander the castle while Ivy was busy, and so, trading costume for a near school girl-esque outfit with tights, took off. So far it had been like every other Castle/manor she'd seen and therefore a bit boring to the blond. After exploring most of the first floor she had headed for stairs only to get distracted by an interesting tapestry. She had leaned close in her pondering of the meaning of the piece when she heard something rolling in the distance behind her. She turned to the sound with a look of curiosity before going to find the source.
It lead her to a purple man with a cart, who seemed to of been stymied by the stairs. "You need a second person Purple People Eater." She put in almost cheerfully. "Or you'll be making a lot of trips." The woman gave him an amused smile. "Or you can see if they updated the place and put in elevators but I haven't found one yet."
Zebediah craned his head to look up the stairs, smiling automatically at the sight of the young woman. There was definitely something a bit peculiar about her. Something a bit "off". Granted, he'd spent the better part of the past decade - that which wasn't wasted sitting behind bars, at any event - in New York City, and thus his tolerance for peculiarity was pretty high.
"I'll have you know," he answered, grinning, "I was once a decorated secret agent. My shrewd wits and cunning intellect allow me a hundred different ways to get my plunder upstairs without even breaking a sweat."
The blond laughed. "Looks like you can't walk ten feet without sweating now mister Purple People Eater." She bounced down the stairs and taking a seat upon his loot. "Let alone get yer booty upstairs double o seven." She winked. "Course I could be persuaded to help with the right incentive." She picked up one the items. "A reward perhaps?"
Zebediah grinned. He just bet she could be persuaded. With about four words, she could be persuaded that she was an elephant. But what the heck, he was always up from some sort of a game. Lord knew he had the time to kill around here to mess around a bit. "Very generous of you, my dear," he said, leaning forwards. "And what might you have in mind in return for such an invaluable service?"
"I'd ask for cash but where the hell would I use it while stuck here yeah?" She responded. "Right now I'd do with some entertainment. Maybe one the who thingies you have in the cart." Harley presented a hand. "Harley Quinn. Pleasure."
"Zebediah Killgrave," he responded, not especially put out by her peculiar name; he dealt with idiots calling themselves things like 'Daredevil' and 'Iron Man', after all. Compared to them, she might as well have been named Jane Smith. He put out his own hand and shook it. "And it is your profound pleasure to meet me," he said conversationally. Always important to make a good first impression, and if by commanding her to experience profound pleasure on the occasion, then so much the better.
"You might be surprised about the money, though," he said, releasing her hand. "For the life of me, I can't understand why, but it seems like almost nobody here seems to be aware of the fact that we have access to an amazing city with a thriving economy. I, myself, am in fact a multi-millionaire there."
"You don't say." A particular look entered her eye as she looked him over. "Explains some things. Okay then I take it back. Pay me a nice lump sum to use in this...amazing city, and I'll help with the cart. I'm stronger then I look." She didn't look like she completely believed that part but she was willing to give a little to get a little. And hell if she didn't use it here she could take it back to Gotham with her give a bit to her family and invest the rest for her own gain. She just hoped he wasn't a con-man. She got enough of that from her father. "Well? What are we waiting for?" She hopped down. "Where's your room?"
He shrugged his shoulders. Why not? He could always just ask someone in the future to transfer however much cash he gave her into his bank account from theirs and walk away none the poorer for it. If moving around a few imaginary numbers saved him some work, then he was game. "Just up the stairs," he indicated with his hand, "Third door on the left. Though I suppose technically it could be any room I wanted it to be. Most of them seem to be abandoned."
He bent down, grabbing hold of the front of the cart with both hands, ready to lift any time she took the rear.
She nodded and squatted down slightly to grab the rear (A thought that nearly made her giggle), "On three. One, two, Three." She lifted in time with him and breath out a breath. "Got gold bricks in here?" Harley asked lightly, carefully following him.
"A couple, yeah," he laughed. "What can I say, I'm a sucker for the classics. Nothing says 'eccentric aristocrat' like having lucre strewn haplessly around one's room. If they used paper money in the future, I'd get some wads of that to toss about carelessly, too." He edged his way up the stairs carefully, taking it one step at a time as he moved backwards.
"I don't know. I thought it was those weird gold busts that screamed Eccentric Aristocrat. Though that's a bit over done now. I haven't kept up with the trends." She laughed breathlessly. "Diamonds. You should do diamonds. Those are always fun. Or plants. But that's more my friend's calling. Biiiig plants. Smart plants. Lets poison and eat the wittle humans plants."
He couldn't help but laugh breathlessly at her ramblings. She was a fun one. He'd have to see about keeping her around for a while, he decided. "There's an idea," he agreed. "I can see if there's any artisans I can coerce into crafting busts of myself out of gold and diamonds. Maybe one for each of several moods. Base them upon the Greek muses or something. Assuming those cultureless clods even remember Greek antiquity." He reached the first landing on the stairwell and leveled out a bit, feeling his back crack as he did so.
"You should name one Hubris." She agreed setting the cart down for a moment to stand for a moment, not caring if she got the reference right or not. "You should do something different though. Like Amethyst." Harley nodded sagely. "Not quite as expensive but it would be more in your style I'd think. Ready for the next go?" She grabbed her end of the cart again.
He sighed theatrically and then bent down, picking up his end of the cart again. "A trifle obvious, don't you think? Amethyst? Besides which, hubris," he grunted as he began up the next flight of stairs, "is a concept reserved for mere mortals. I like to think that I left that flotsam behind long ago. Let mighty Poseidon rage all he wants about what washes up on his shores if he likes. I'll be flapping around the sun on my magnificent wings, thank you very much."
"Obvious yes. But pretty." She answered back, giggling as his dramatic sigh. Harley sobered at his statement about hubris before tilting her head, the part of her that was still Doctor Harleen Quinzel analyzing it. "You know that's very telling of you." She smiled sweetly.
"Oh, I'm sure it is, but..." he said, smirking. All of this sweating he was doing meant he was probably just filling this narrow stairwell with pheremones, and with her heavy breathing just a few feet away..."you find it to be incredibly charming and ingratiating," he provided.
The sweet girlish smile, melted to a look of confusion and a touch of annoyance. She gave a quick shake of her head as if something was bothering her. "Maybe I do." She answered vaguely, frowning slightly. "I don't know." Why did the man's voice seem to stick in her head now in a bothersome manner that reminded her of something.
He observed the confusion of expressions which played across her face with some fascination. He'd encountered several people over the years who were resistant to his abilities, and a much, much smaller number who simply had the willpower to say 'no'. The thought of those rarest of encounters were enough to send chills up his spine. This seemed like the former, though, and that, in his experience, always meant some sort of biological anomaly. Curiouser and curiouser. With those, he found, a subtler touch was required. "Relax," he said, "Don't worry about it." Those were two commands that most minds were all too happy to receive, Soothing and gentle, they made the day more pleasant.
He reached the top step and gratefully lowered the cart back down to the ground with a thump. "Just a bit further now."
The frown smoothed out to a small smile though there was still that bare hint of confusion. "Right." She mumbled. "No worries here..."
Harley set the cart down and stretched, rolling her shoulders. "Coolies. I wanna see how Daedalus lives." She quirked a playful smile, starting to through off the effects from earlier and easing into the new subtle command.
"Well, then, let's carry on," he said, smiling gently. Much better. It seemed it would be a bit of a game with this one. Nothing wrong with that. Indeed, he thought he might have just the thing for it.
He picked up the handle on the cart and began to tow it along behind him until he arrived at his door a few moments later. Fishing his key out of his pocket (one could never be too careful when this sort of wealth was involved!), be slipped it into the lock and cast the door wide open. "Welcome to my humble abode," he said, gesturing grandly with one arm.
The room was no bigger than anyone else's, but a number of body-length mirrors placed strategically around the room certainly gave the impression of greater volume. All about was a collection of art objects, luxurious furniture, valuables (including, ostentatiously, a large crystal goblet filled with gems) and curious devices of mysterious function. Presently, he strode over to one of them and tapped its surface, causing it to fill the room with strange, soothing music. "One of the first things I brought back from the future," he said. "This place needed some music, even if they don't seem to have any cultural recollection of the classics."
"Right!" She bounced following him cheerfully, looking around and taking it in. After all she lived in one the houses with Ivy. Not the castle itself. When he stopped she paused next to him, rocking on her feet slowly as she watched him. The woman peered around him and quirked a smile. "Opulent." She commented as she stepped in after him.
The woman went over to the crystal goblet and studied it before moving on to the next item. To her the mirrors was just another thing that made Zebediah Killgrave a little more understandable to her and easier to manipulate if needed.
"Well, why not be opulent," he asked, his voice laconic. "We're trapped in a cage like rats. To me, it's simply a question of whether my portion of the cage be lined with scratchy bits of sawdust, or with luxurious, comfortable goose down. In those terms, it's not even a question." He bent down and opened the mini-bar he kept near to his bed, pulling out a bottle of chilled wine he had lifted from the hotel. With his other hand, he snatched up a pair of glasses close at hand. "Care for a refreshment as a down-payment upon your moving fee?"
She wandered over, simply nodding to his observation. "Yeah. Why not." Harley sat down on his bed. "I haven't had a good wine in a while." The woman laid back for a moment, as if she owned the bed looking utterly relaxed and unworried but in truth was watching him from under her lashes.
"Hm. Then I think you're in for a treat," he said. He tugged the cart the rest of the way into his room and shut the door, then kicked his shoes off carelessly beside it. "Whatever else the future may be lacking in culture, they've certainly done an excellent job of advancing the art and science of alcoholism." He popped open the bottle and poured out half of its contents into the two glasses. "I'm not even sure what this stuff is made from. I can't imagine how they might have any vinyards out there, but it tastes amazing." He sat down on the bed next to her, handing her a glass and taking a sip from his own.
She sat back up easily taking the glass. Harley turned and rest on her hip and elbow, saluting the man. "To the advancement of Alcoholism." The woman took a sip, humming as the flavor blanketed her tongue. "Oh my. This really is good."
"Isn't it, though?" He drank a bit deeper, "I'll tell you something, the people in that future society are like some sort of strange, mirror-image of the Soviet Union or something." He twisted himself about so that he was laying back against his pillows, and, not coincidentally, one of his legs were brushing up against hers. "The soviets made this conscious decision to try to eradicate any trace of the culture they came from and develop something from scratch which celebrated work and frowned on joy and exuberance. These people," he gestured in no particular direction with the hand holding his glass, "have had all traces of their culture wiped out due to what I gather to have been an unfortunate nuclear exchange, and have also had to re-build their culture from scratch. The chief difference being..." he took another sip, smiling at the taste, "...they seem to have put personal hedonism as their highest virtue."
"Huh you don't say." She hummed sipping her drink, letting her leg cross over his almost tangling them. "I should go there. It would be interesting to do my own comparison."
"You should," he agreed. He rubbed his leg, softly, back and forth against hers as he spoke, not drawing any particular attention to it. "As far as I can tell, virtually everyone who comes here spends all their time in this drafty, snow-encrusted, lonely castle. I don't think I've seen a single person just taking in the town and enjoying the nightlife. It's like they've all got..." he struggled for the word. "Anhedionia! That's it. Just so determined to mope around and be miserable."
"Or get free." She pointed out. "Get back to the lives they know. After all it is they human way to fear what change brings. They don't stop to consider what opportunities that are possible. Not like you are obvious capable of doing. You take change and make it into decadence." Harley gestured with her wine. She turned back to the man with an easy smile. "Little ants going with their little lives marching on and on never noticing the ant eater poised the strike."
He nodded his head sagely, "There was a meeting here, not long ago. Just about everyone at the castle at the time was in attendance. I barely recognized any of them," he shook his head disgustedly. "I'd been staying at the hotel in the future, for the most part, and never saw any of them there. They were all so determined to make their way out of this place, but it was obvious that none of them had the faintest clue how to actually go about it. You had it exactly right," he said, shifting closer to her, "Like ants. All just blindly following their little scent trails..." he placed the tips of his fingers on her arm, making light, scurrying motions with them, from her wrist upwards, "without a clue where it leads." He finished off his drink and set the glass aside. "I'm prepared to sit back and see what becomes of them before I have any interest in following, thank you very much."
She watched his hand before looking into her glass with a thoughtful little smile. "I can't say much. I wouldn't mind getting home either but I don't see the rush in it. I have the most important thing here." The woman drank down the rest of rest of her own wine. "I am curious to know more about this place though. Mind sharing what you know?”
"Hmm, I don't see why not." He reached over to the wine bottle and gestured towards her with it, questioningly, "What would you like to know?"
She offered her glass. "Start from the beginning and work your way to the now? I'm very new here." Harley smiled cutely.
He topped her glass up with a smile, and set the bottle back down again. He knew from experience that the stuff was strong, and hoped to see if it would loosen up her inhibitions a bit, which could make her easier to influence, and then things could become a bit more interesting. For the time being, though, her company was pleasant enough in and of itself. "Alright, then," he said, musingly, "My understanding is that we're in a castle in England. The shape of the power outlets is probably enough to tell you that much, though. Not necessarily the England you know, though. It seems that - and I know how crazy this sounds - a number of the people who are here have been brought here from a number of different parallel worlds. Are you familiar with the concept?"
"I am." She nodded. "I actually had first hand experience but that's another story." Harley sipped her drink. "So it is possible that even if we get outside the barrier we'll be unable to get home anyways....Then the helicopter must be able to go through dimensions but I didn't notice anything..."
"Neither did I," he said, "neither has anyone else, it seems. Strange, right? There's one woman who claims to be from the 5th century, and even she doesn't seem to have seen any especially strange transition. However they do it, it has to involve those helicopters of theirs, or something in them. The pilots maybe. Those guys are odd ducks themselves, let me tell you. Like robots or something." He was still rubbing his leg languidly up and down along hers, but as much as he was enjoying that, he decided he wouldn't mind a little more. "You'd like to get a bit closer," he informed her, curious to see how that would go.
The woman hummed softly, idly wishing the had Zatanna or perhaps one the others they used that knew magic. "Yeah it is odd. Perhaps the pilots are constructs of a... different." She indeed moved closer now straddling his leg. There was a hint of confusion on her face but she didn't question it too much being like this. It had been so long since even Mister J had touched her. "Sort." Harley looked down, her head slightly tilted. "Whew...what's in this wine?"
"Good question," He said, laughing softly. He held up the bottle to her, for her perusal. However much time had passed between now and the future it came from, the English language had evidently changed considerably in that time. He couldn't read a word of the label, himself. "If you can tell me, I'll be glad to hear it." He continued to move his leg up and down against hers, slowly and rhythmically. In her new position, his thigh was moving against her inner thighs with each movement, and every so often, just a little bit higher, brushing up against her ever so lightly, between her legs. He tilted the bottle forwards, without asking, to pour some more of it into her glass for her, emptying it and then putting it aside. "They say they've got one of the pilots tied up down in the basement or something. I'm still waiting to see what they can get out of him, but..." he casually moved an arm around her shoulder, "...I'm not holding my breath."
The woman looked the bottle over and wrinkled her nose pertly. "Got me too." Her breath caught slightly as his thigh brushed against her apex. She blushed slightly and cleared her throat. "Obvious language has changed or they have taken up some sort of universal language..." Harley watched as he topped off her drink. She gave him an amused smile. "If I didn't know better I'd say you are trying to get me drunk. I'm really not that sort of girl." Yet she couldn't bring herself to move away.
"You never know. Pain tends to make people talk more freely. And if they are controlled humans then the pain can shake them free of whatever is controlling them."
"Perish the thought. Of course you aren't," he said, moving his leg slightly more deliberately up against her, "but you have to think that behaving as though you were might be fun sometimes," he informed her, smilingly, passing off his mental compulsion as though it were mere conversation.
"Personally," he went on, drawing her slowly closer to him with his arm, "I think they're giving the jailers here too little credit. If I were them, and I had the resources they have, I'd brainwash some poor schmuck to believe whatever lies I wanted my prisoners to believe, set him up to crash, and let them waste weeks of time thinking they've got some great victory on their hands as they fill their minds with whatever nonsense I want them to think." He smirked. "Secret agent, remember?"
The woman rubbed down against his leg a hand coming up to rest on his chest, as she nodded. "Of course but it doesn't always give you want you want." She knew from experience.
She took another sip of her wine and set it aside as he drew her close. "Ex-villainess. It would be too easy to do that. And anyone with half a brain could easily work through a brainwashing. I've seen it before. Besides if they are the good side then they don't think it's truly a victory and will spend time trying to heal the man up."
He smiled, feeling her pressing down upon his leg, her growing heat pleasingly exciting him. He obliged her, pushing his leg up into her, back and forth, until his pelvis was pressed against hers, moving back and forth slowly and deliberately. "Lapsed villainess, surely," he chuckled, filing that bit away for future reference. It might have some bearing upon her earlier resistance, "and either way, I'm sure you understand the hypocrisy of the folks who imagine themselves to be on this mythical 'good side'."
"Oh there is a good side but it's all muddled." Harley argued, grinding against him slowly. "Good intention is muddied by the blood shed. The hero has blood on his hands from his fights. And the victim will always hate the person they wronged him. But on the other hand evil is just as muddled. I have yet to find someone truly evil. Even Hitler, in his insanity, did things cause he thought he was making the world better. It's a bad comparison and I makes me feel icky to say it but there it is."
"I don't see it as all that muddled," he said, his free hand moving around behind her. He flipped up her skirt, and slipped his hand down into her panties, grasping her muscular bottom, pulling her into him with each movement. "Or at least it doesn't need to be. I see myself as living quite comfortably in the gray area. My eyes are clear." he kneaded her buttock with his fingers. "No illusions of moral superiority. I simply am what I am." He leaned forwards, placing a quick kiss upon her neck. "And isn't that lovely?"
She hummed softly at the pleasant feeling of him kneading and groping. "People make it such. Unknowingly but they do." Harley stated in a distracted manner. "And when they finally notice and try to set it to rights the minds slowly start to crumble. No one is purely good or purely evil they simply exist. Driven by urges. Clearly you've learned that lesson early. Even if you do still have a complex." She teased.
"Exactly," he said, kissing his way up her neck, "We all just act upon our own... urges." His hand slipped further down, past her buttocks and between her legs. His fingers pressing into her moistness as he found it. "Some people think their best interests lay in serving their society." He slipped a finger inside of her, "Some people in serving themselves. But in the end, it all comes down to getting what you want."
Harley bared her neck, shivering at the pleasant feel of the man's lips on the graceful column of her neck. That was till his fingers found her causing a breathy moan to escape her, her concentration scattering. "I want more." She whispered on the heels of his statement, falling more under his spell. Really, like she had said right along, people should really start paying attention to her or she wouldn't have given in so easily to something she craved.
"Do you, now," he asked, smiling as he gave her neck a long, luxurious lick, "Tell me what you want." His finger paused deeper into her even as he pressed his pelvis hard against hers. "Be specific," he started pulling her panties down and off of her with his other hand. "Be filthy."
"I want you. Inside me. Fucking me hard. So that pleasure boarders pain." She shuddered, her nails digging into the man's chest, as she lightly clenched around the intruding digit. "I want to make me sloppy. I want your cum inside me. Just fuck me damnit." She growled, tearing at his shirt.
"See, now?" He said, smiling from ear to ear, "Clarity of vision. That's what I like to see." He finished pulling her panties lose, damp and moist in his hand, and tossed them to the far side of the room. He thrust his face towards her, kissing her hard on the mouth, and pushing his tongue inwards to meet hers even as his hands worked to unbuckle his belt and shove his pants and boxers aside, allowing his stiff manhood to spring free.
Harley growled and kissed him back, nipping his lip when his tongue withdrew for a moment, as her hands found him. She wouldn't take this laying down so to speak. No she liked to be far active in this particular activity. She purred slightly as her tongue tangled with his, the woman stroked him slowly. After a moment she broke away to catch her breath.
He grabbed hold of her blouse with both hands, ripping it open with a single yank, popping buttons as he went, and as it hung loose and open before him, he grabbed hold of her left breast, kneading it hard between his fingers. She said she wanted it to hurt, and he was willing to give it to her. His other hand returned to work between her legs, massaging her moist, smooth lips for a few moments before plunging two fingers into her and beginning to fuck her with them in earnest. All the while, he stared into her eyes, watching them cloud over with desire that he was sure she was seeing in his own. He rocked his hips against her hand, relishing the feel of her fingers wrapped around him, wanting more, but willing to wait and see how long she could stand the anticipation before she needed to make her move.
The woman groaned low in throat, squeezing his member as she stroked. Her typically bright blue eyes had darkened to a near midnight color when his fingers plunged into her. It felt good, wonderful, but she wanted more and just imagining the prick she felt in her hands plunging into her wrung a moan from her lips. It was different from how the Joker had normally done her the few times she finally got him to get in bed with her near the end.
He pushed her bra up and off of her breasts, causing them to spring loose before him. Eagerly, he dropped his head down, taking her left nipple into his mouth and sucked on it, teasing its tip with his tongue inside of his mouth. His fingers worked inside of her, feeling her become wetter and wetter by the moment as her hips rocked against his hand. His other hand squeezed her bottom, hard, before giving it a quick, hard, slap, and then caressing it with soft but urgent strokes. Invoulentarily, his hips pressed further and further towards hers with each forwards thrust, until he could practically feel the heat radiating off of her pussy against his member.
Harley's arched from the bed, as if trying to offer more of herself to Zebediah's ministrations until he spanked her. A pleased, surprised squeal escaped her and she writhed slightly as the man just as quickly started to sooth the pain away. The contrast of the actions went straight to her core and that coupled with the feeling of him so close to being inside her set her to begging. Softly at first but picking up urgency.
Her soft, almost incoherent pleas of desire were all he needed to hear. He removed his fingers from within her, and brushed her hand away from his cock. Taking it in hand, with one sure, slow movement, he maneuvered it to her entrance and pushed it in, the head of his cock sliding against her lips, and then deep within her. The hand upon her bum pulled her downwards until she was entirely impaled upon him, her pelvis pushed wetly against his own. As he began to slowly move in and out of her, he pulled his face from her breast, so he could watch her as he presented his damp fingers to her. "Suck them clean," he whispered, throatily, "and love every moment of it."
The woman sighed happily as he finally pushed into her, her legs coming up to wrap around his waist. He didn't even have to give her last order as she wrapped her lips around the wet digits and swirled her tongue around them her hips arching up to meet each thrust of his, her heel digging into the curve of his ass for purchase. She gave a throaty moan of pleasure and cat like grin on her lips as she cleaned his fingers, her hair partly haloed around her head as her breasts swayed and jiggled with each move.
"Hmmm, dirty girl," he said, pushing his fingers in and out of her mouth, enjoying her sensual tongue upon them. "I like it." As if in reward, he gave her ass another hard smack, a loud, wet slapping noise filling the room as the two sweaty surfaces met one another. He took just a moment to reach up with that hand and worked to free the loose blouse from her, leaving her only in her askew bra and skirt. His hand then returned to her ass, squeezing it and stroking it in time with the movements of his hips. He was gradually picking up in pace, now, fucking her hard, his balls swaying against her thighs, and his strokes within her deep and lusty. He bent forwards, biting her shoulder and suckling upon her sweaty, aromatic skin.
Harley mewled as he spanked her again, inner muscles clenching around him quick and hard. She growled softly, a light coming to her eyes as he started to really get into it. It was like his hands were everywhere a sensation that excited her and made her feel desirable. She finally closed her eyes as he started marking her just enjoying the heavy feel of him slapping against her thigh, the thickness of him inside her, and his mouth against her. Harl made a pleading sound that almost seemed like she was begging for it harder. She could take it after all.
He lifted her leg upwards, as they lay side by side, giving him greater access to her, and began to really move, each thrust into her hammering home with a wet slap. If she wanted it rough, she would get it rough. He nibbled his way up her neck, biting and sucking as he went, and his hand on her ass moved inwards until his index finger pressed against her asshole, which he started pushing it in and out of, slowly, their combined sweat acting as a lubricant. He ground his hips against hers, holding his cock deep inside of her for several long moments before varying his tempo, giving her a series of short, quick thrusts.
Oh that was a far different sensation but not in a bad way. Oh no in fact in wrung all sorts of sounds from her ranging from soft moans to giggles to gasps when things hit just that edge of pain unexpectedly. Then it all hit that peak as everything coalesced into a surprisingly perfect whole. She cried out wordlessly, feeling almost embarrassed that it seemed to be ending so soon. That she came so soon after things were starting to get particularly good.
He felt her spamming and bucking on him, seeming to be milking him within her, and he decided to give her exactly what she wanted. He picked up his pace, moving to a crescendo of speed, before feeling an explosion moving outwards from the core of him. He let out a long, low, shuddering moan as he came inside of her, filling her with his fluids. As he caught his breath, his breathing beginning to slow, he continued to move himself in and out of her; his softening member in front, his finger now deep in her rear, and let out a long, contented sigh.
Harley shivered with little aftershocks, sighing as well. Her sigh settled into a low hum of pleasure even as her body still jerked from time to time. "Oh no more..." She pleaded playfully. "I'm slain." Though if the man was up for another go soon she would not complain. The woman looked like a very content cat who'd gotten the proverbial cream. "Was good." Harl complimented, her cheeks a touch pink from sex and a bit of embarrassment.
A bit of post-coital play wasn't out of the question, but Zebediah wasn't as young as he used to be (and hey, who was?). It would be a while before he'd be up for another round, even with this pretty young thing. "Hm, for you and me both, sweetheart," he muttered contentedly. He bent forwards, kissing her lightly on the tip of her nose, and then, once more, upon her lips. "I think that was pretty much exactly what we both needed just then." His free hand moved to her back, sliding slickly up her spine, to her bra clasp, which he unhooked, tugging the garment away from her. When it was off, he pressed his chest into hers, feeling her hot little nipples sliding up and down against him as their breathing slowly returned to normal.
The woman cuddled, an easy smile on her face though something did niggle the back of her mind. It was something that she figured she could deal with later but right now she felt to good to bother with it. She felt oh so floaty and buzzy and it was enough to put the ex psychiatrist in a good mood, a very good mood. "Mmm. You smell good." She murmured softly. "A bit like Red's pheromones but more masculine." Harley whispered almost drowsily as if she'd drift off any moment even though she was fairly awake if very comfortable at the moment.
Quite the sensitive little nose this one had on her! "I get that a lot," he answered warmly. "Minus the 'red' part, naturally." He withdrew his member, now entirely soft again, from within her, and replaced it with his hand. He softly pushed his fingers between her moist folds and playfully rubbed against her clit while his finger in her rear continued its slow movement in and out of her. "Friend of yours," he asked, half-curiously.
She shuddered in delight as he toyed with her. It had been a long time since someone had lingered like this with her after sex. "Best friend. Saved my life," Harley moaned softly. "After Mister J tried to kill me." She felt a stab of sadness as she remembered the Joker. "She could killed me no problem too."
"Mm, that's right," he said, remembering. "That 'ex-villainess' matter from before, wasn't it? What's the story there?" She was plainly quite physically fit - PLAINLY - but beyond that, the nature of it was a bit of a mystery to him.
"Ever heard of the Joker?" She asked, almost tensely.
His mind immediately went to the Jester; an imbicile in a clown costume that he was insulted to think of a sort of co-antagonist of Daredevil's, though one with a significantly less illustrious career than himself. "Not off of the top of my head, though I confess that I don't do the best job of keeping up with the rest of what one might call the 'super-villain community'. I've never been much for team-ups. Well," he corrected himself, slipping his fingers downwards and inside of her, "Not in the conventional sense, anyway."
Harley arched in enjoyment. "I use to be a psychiatrist. At the Arkham Asylum before I met him. He was so charming...So insane. Splintered..."And he broke her to match him. "Always trying to best the Batman. It was like a game to him. And I fell in love with him. I helped him escape. Became his side kick. And one day he tied me to a rocket to lure Batman in. He fired the rocket anyways and I landed in Red's territory."
"Ugh. I've known guys like that. Obsessed with a given 'hero' for whatever reason. They lose focus, they spend more time figuring out how to cause trouble for that one guy than on how to actually succeed in whatever goals originally brought them into conflict with them in the first place. I understand holding a grudge, you understand," he added quickly; he had spent plenty of time fantasizing about seeing Daredevil's head splattered in a gutter somewhere, where it belonged, "but allowing yourself to be controlled by it like that is a kind of sickness if you ask me." He slowly rocked his hand back and forth underneath her, rubbing his fingers against her g-spot as he spoke, and impulsively pushed his finger right up to the last knuckle into her bum, wriggling it around inside of her for a few moments.
Harl moaned lightly. "Oh that's such an odd sensation." She murmured, pressing against him before slowly relaxing enjoying the feel. "He thought they were destined to do be at odds...and I was okay helping him for the longest time." It a way she still loved him but he'd tried to kill her one too many times so after shooting him in the shoulder and leaving him to Batman she bade him a not so fond farewell. "It was stupid of me I suppose to let myself be led on for so long."
"Well, if you ask me, you're better off without him," he said, planting a quick kiss on her neck. "Guys like that always self-destruct eventually, and take down anyone stupid enough to be standing near them when they do. It's crazy. See, that's why I came here... thinking I was taking a trip to Brazil, mind you, but even so... getting out of town and just enjoying life rather than sticking around and butting heads stupidly with some costumed idiots." Her reactions, and her movements against him were starting to get him just a little bit hard again, which got him thinking. He leaned in and whispered into her ear, "How would you like to try something else down here," he asked, swirling his finger around inside of her rear entrance.
And that was the truth of the matter. Joker nearly had. More then once. She hummed softly. "Yeah. Isn't that the truth. Brazil though. Ivy went there. Liked it. Maybe I should visit." She shivered as he whispered in her ear. "I'm willing to try." The woman whispered.
"Hmm, an adventurous spirit. Got to love that," he said, and kissed her on the lips. He withdrew his fingers, wetly, from both of her orifices, and shifted away from her on the bed, moving towards his bedside dresser. As he did so, he spoke conversationally. "Brazil has a lot of charm. So does anywhere that doesn't have a lot of costumed weirdos clustered around. You ever notice how they all sort of bunch up in their little clubs?" He opened up a drawer from his dresser, pulling out a tube of lubricant. It hadn't seen a lot of use since he'd gotten here, but now he was glad he'd kept it on-hand. "I have an idea about that. It's about validation." He moved back towards her. "Get your skirt off, by the way, it's getting all messed-up." He popped the cap off of the tube, looking at her with mischief in his eyes. "They look at each other in their costumes, and they feel like what they're doing is normal. Like a furry convention. Out on their own, in a place like Brazil, though? They stand out like a guy in a fur suit at a shopping mall. And what does that do to their precious egos?" He squirted a goodly amount of the lube into one hand as he moved closer to her.
She wiggled out of her skirt chuckling softly. "And they don't do a single heroic thing while out of costume. The costume its self is a shield to give them courage and reason. Without it they are just as scared and as weak as any one of us." She nodded. "Its the same for both sides. But for the bad side it is a way to let us continue on the streets without being bothered if we want some time off from it all." She raised an eyebrow. "Do a bit of back door plundering with your lovers then?" Harley asked jokingly.
"Well, you're about to find out, pretty girl," he said, slapping her ass playfully. "Now roll over. Face down, ass up." He began to apply the lube to himself first, growing steadily harder with the anticipation. "And I've never been one for costumes, myself. Tried it once. Felt absurd. A suit and tie has always been classy enough for me, thanks."
She rolled to her hands and knees. "I rather like my costume. It's very well fitting, shows off the curves. Never had any of the guys complain." Harley grinned back at him playfully.
"Maybe later you can show it off for me," he said. He was man enough to admit he had a bit of a double standard where the form-fitting outfits on the ladies were concerned. "But for now, I want you to reach back and spread them for me."
Harley blushed a bit and reached back, spreading herself open for the man as she lowered her front down to the bed. It felt horribly open and unprotected to be like that for her.
"Very nice," he said, smiling. He decided to give her something a little extra special. Leaning down, He extended his tongue and gave her a long lick, teasing her bum-hole with the tip of his tongue.
She made a soft squeak of surprise. "Oh!" That was...well. She'd never...Wow what had she been missing out on in the bedroom!?
He chuckled softly at her reaction, and swirled his tongue around some more, pushing the tip of it into her for a moment or two before placing a soft kiss upon it. "Like that, do you?"
"Oh yes." She breathed. "No one has ever done that to me." The woman felt strangely virginal and untried with all that she'd experienced so far. You'd think the Joker would be creative in bed but really he wasn't. Not like this.
"Hm. Well, maybe you'd like a little more." With his unlubricated hand - no need to waste good product when she was obviously still so wet - he reached down and started playing with her pussy, conveniently on-display for him as well. A pair of fingers pushed into her and began a slow-but-accelerating in-and-out movement as his twisted them around. He then moved back to her ass, lavishing it with three long, hard licks and then a series of softer, quicker ones.
Harley moaned happily, giggling softly at the mixed sensations she was feeling. "Feels so good." She let her eyes flutter close as she enjoyed the attention he was lavishing on her.
"If you like," he said, between licks, "you can try it on me later on. What's good for the goose, after all..." And speaking of gooses, he took that moment to take his lubricated hand and introduce some finger-play into the mix, pushing his finger inwards. The lubrication made it an easier passage than it might otherwise have, even on an untried orifice like this. Nevertheless, he knew full well it wouldn't be without some pain for the girl. Not that she was likely to mind.
She bit her lip slightly. "Maybe." Harley rocked back slightly against his hand, whether to buck him off or to get more of the sensation only she'd know. "I won't be able to walk when I go home. I know it." The blond murmured softly.
He laughed warmly. "Then I'll just toss you on my cart there and give you a ride. One good turn deserves another." He introduced a second finger to her anus, slowly pushing it inwards and stretching it out, twisting his hand about as he went and thoroughly coating it with lubricant. His fingers down below in her pussy were doing similar work, moving faster and with more purpose now.
"Only if I can sing along the way." She laughed the sound tapering into another pleased moan. "Course that's only if you don't mind me annoying everyone else." She grinned playfully.
"Do I seem like the sort who's concerned with a bit of ostentation," he asked, laughing. He figured that that would be about good enough, and withdrew his fingers from her with an audible little 'pop' noise. He grasped his member, giving it one more quick smear of lube before lining it up with her entrance. "Ready for a good, hard ass-fucking," he asked, lowering his own tone for a moment. Sometimes a bit of outright dirty talk was exciting.
A small shudder went through her. "Are you going to tear me up?" She asked lowly. "Or are you all words?" Harley taunted, smirking. "Show me what you have."
"Ooh, a challenge. You asked for it." He pushed himself inwards, gripping and guiding himself with one hand even as he held her spread-wide ass-cheeks with the other. Slowly, at first, his head nudged its way inside of her, and then, with greater force, he pushed his hips forwards until he was entirely buried in her, savouring the warm, and very tight grip she had on his member.
She gasped and cringed at first, both at the pain and the odd sensation of being fucked there but she slowly relaxed and finally rocked back against him. "Do it!" Harley cried, edging on begging. "I want to feel it."
"Remember you asked for it," he said, smiling from ear to ear. He drew himself backwards, until he was half-way withdrawn from her before slamming forwards again, filling her up with himself again. Back again, and then forwards, in long, forceful strokes. There was no further need for her hands to be on her ass at this point, and so as his breath became quicker and shorter, he directed her, 'Play with your pussy, girl. Let's get some double penetration going here."
The woman moaned softly, eyes fluttering slightly as he slammed into her. Harley murmured softly as she shifted to brace herself, a hand slipping between her legs to play with herself. Her fingers plunged into her own channel as the heel of her palm rubbed against her clit in a sinfully teasing manner. She wasn't so slutty she knew but something about him about this made her want things she never thought of wanting before.
He bent forwards, placing one hand on the bed next to her head to support himself as his other hand reached around and grasped her breast, twisting and teasing her nipple between his fingers. His hips continued their movement, driving him in and out of her asshole with wet, deliciously obscene sounds matched by those made by her hand a few inches away. He dipped his head down, licking her back, tracing the curve of her spine and tasting her sweat in a long, luscious trail.
Harley shivered in delight. Those sounds. God those sounds did something to her. "Zeb....oh holy cheez. It feels so good." She whimpered softly. "Its almost too much."
"That's the thing about excess, Harley-girl," he moaned into her ear, "too much is never enough." And with that, he quickened his pace behind her, pushing himself furiously in and out of her. He leaned down with his head, biting her sweaty shoulder, hard enough to leave a bruise. He was getting close now, and intended to make it a grand finale.
She squealed softly her free hand bunching up in the sheet as her other moved faster and harder, as if trying to meet the man's pace. When the man bit down she shouted in a mix of pain, surprise and pleasure. "Yes! Oh sweet god yes!" Her back bowed with the force of her release as she unknowingly bit her lip, drawing blood.
He could feel her spamming under and around him, her ass squeezing and pressing upon him in all directions. He Leaned back into an upright position so as to get the most possible leverage and the best possible view as he rammed himself home into her ass another half-dozen times before finally feeling himself shudder and moan, the climax claiming him as he shot his load deep into her rear. He continued to ride her ass for another dozen or so strokes, enjoying and prolonging the moment, but now he really was well and truly exhausted.
She trembled in his hold, moaning softly. "I'm dead." As he continued even after he came. "I feel all loose and floaty." Harley purred, relaxing slightly. "Tingly."
He chuckled softly, pulling himself out of her, causing a bit of his fluids to leak down out of her, and dribbling down towards her pussy below. He maneuvered around beside her, finally flopping down on his side on the sheet beside her. Playfully, he pushed her over, so that she was lying on her back and he could have a better look at her post-coital bliss. "Well, I do aim to please," he said, idly reaching over and playing with one of her nipples.
The woman fell over easily. "You did that and more." She squeaked when the man played with her chest. "I'll talk! I'll talk!" She laughed lightly. She looked over at him. "Usually I'm not so quick to jump in bed with people..."
He shrugged. There were a lot of things a lot of people did around him that they didn't normally do. It was so natural a part of his life that he barely even thought about it in those terms any more. "Well, I have a winning personality," he said. "And it doesn't sound to me as though you regret it."
He reached down between her legs, still slick and moist with their combined fluids, and fingered her lightly for a few moments, scooping some up on the tips of his fingers, then presented them to her mouth once more, watching languidly, a soft smile on his face and half-lidded eyes.
"Oh I don't think I do." She murmured before suckling on his fingers like a hungry kitten. "I'm be happy to do it ago some time." Harley murmured when she let his fingers go. "I had a lot of fun." She grinned.
"You and me both, dirty girl," he said, gently pushing his fingers in and out of her mouth. "And for your information? That is always dead sexy. I could just watch you do that all day long."
She gently caught his fingers with her teeth and swirled his tongue around the digits.
He chuckled, smiling at the sight of her. He took her own hand, so recently deep inside of her snatch, and sucked it into his own mouth, returning the favour.
Her breath caught lightly and she moved closer to him, twining around him.
He wrapped his free hand around her, holding her sweaty form against his, and cupping her bottom warmly. Pulling his fingers from her mouth, and hers from his, he leaned in and kissed her, tasting the tangy flavour of her blood on her lip from earlier. He licked it up, and then slid his tongue into her mouth.
Harley hummed, kissing him back easily as her fingers traced over his side. "Mmm. Sadly I am going to have to go soon. Or Red will come looking for me." She sighed contently.
"Hm. This 'Red' again," he said, frowning slightly. "We got distracted before you could tell me who that was." His fingers slid up and down her body, tweaking here, poking there as they went, before coming to rest between her legs.
"She's my best friend and my roomie."
"So, someone from the outside that you're lucky enough to have as a cell-mate, eh," he asked, his fingers lightly, idly playing with her.
The woman hummed in pleasure. "Yeah. I actually came her cause I got a ticket said that she was taken."
"Hah!" he laughed, rubbing her clit lightly with the tip of one finger. "Nice to know that once in a while, those tickets aren't total lies."
She shuddered lightly. "Yeah. Still didn't make me very happy. She saved my life so I owe her one."
"I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to pay her back later," he said, swirling his fingertip around. "But you're a big girl now, and I'm sure she'll understand if you want to spend the night out."
Harley moaned softly, "And I thought I had drive." She snuggled.
"Oh, I don't think I'm up for much more just now..." he said, chuckling and softly rubbing a pair of fingertips up and down within her folds, "Just playing. Stay the night, though, and I'm sure we can find some new and entertaining activities later on."
"Very true." Harley mumbled. "I suggest a nap. Most definitely."
"There's the spirit," he said, kissing her lightly on the lips. "Alright. Sleep peacefully for eight hours, dreaming wonderful dreams..." he said to her, and then, impishly, as an afterthought, "...and then wake me up with a blowjob."
Simple instructions, and in keeping with the moment, he had little doubt that her mind would gladly receive such commands.
She nuzzled close. "Yeah. Sleep, dream, blowjob." Harley mumbled, already drifting off.
"Good girl," he said, tugging up the sheets and blankets.
This one was a keeper.