A Clown and His Doll

He was locked on her now, as he spoke to her openly about what he thought of this whole situation. That knife however was quickly becoming the center of everything going on. His hand brushing along the shoulder would find itself raising up now. His other hand was moving now to go behind and unclasp that messy bun, being so bold as to untangle her hair and start pulling it down and free. The blade moving to quickly sweep some of that blonde back behind a ear and expose her neck. That neck. "Call it a hunch. Hell, call it luck." She could feel it now probably, that knife having found itself placing the cold edge against that spot he had marked so long ago. He remembered the quiet shame she held for it until she came through those doors. He looked past her now, towards that same door, and how whenever she went through that stuffy nonsense she had worn all along had been cast off from her. Her mask. Admiring his sloppy handiwork across her face, he'd smudge his thumb against her ghostly jaw giving a slight stroke. Still going to carefully graze that flesh with his eager blade. "I just know my squeeze is always going to be there, isn't that right? And she'd do anything for Mr. J? Anything I ever asked, no questions on her end? Hmmm?" A light tap now against her cheek, that wandering weapon slightly smearing some of that paint on it's keen edge.

The blade drew heavy and shallow breaths from her now, but her heart told her to be calm that he'd never hurt her or kill her. It still didn't stop her mind focused on the sharp blade, it made her not move a muscle besides her ribcage and thudding heart. The freshly dyed blonde locks fell and cascaded down her back and past her neck. Hiding it momentarily from the knife. Blade against that spot brought those eyes to a lulled close, she could still feel that mouth of his against her throat, sucking and biting with he kept her pinned up against the sink well he explored her. He gave her the first taste of being who she really was in Harley that night. She was Harley for him from that point on, even when she tried hard to be Harleen, and for a few hours it would work. But when he really needed her to be who she should have been, she was. First question was asked, would she always be there, "Always." She'd do anything for Joker, that went without saying, she kill for him, steal for him, but she answered just to let him know the answer to the last two questions, "Anything." Feeling the blade against her cheek she forgot to breath, to remembered how to speak. "No Questions." but how she answered the questions was with almost a whimpering kind of moan that came from her. It happened only when he riled her up.

Worship. It was the only word for it. It was something more than love she had for him, and knowing that he had his devoted little clown waiting on his beckoning, his calling, was the closest he could ever come to loving her back. A sad state, but in the end it was the best the two could manage. That sharp edge tickled down her throat, forcing her to not give a single gulp when she spoke. That hand moving to lightly grip the top of that low buttoned blouse, taking care to tickle that tip down her midriff. His head was coming in closer, that hot breath more apparent as he'd find himself desiring her strongly, and he took what he wanted, a noted fact. The first button was cut through, that man a expert with a knife, plucking it off and opening that shirt more. Blade pushed against the tight fabric to the next one, again a single flick of his wrist would send it lopped off and rolling down her body to the floor. One more to go, his hand locking into her shirt and pulling it towards himself, causing her to slide as close as she could on that table before he severed the last coil that blouse had to staying closed. Up that edge went along her stomach, traveling in a dangerous curve up before finding that breast and sliding to lightly scratch along the top of that still bound chest. He liked mixing up her signals, instilling a morbid fear coupled with a no doubt lustful fantasy that ate away at her brain. His voice again spoke, thick with a smokey sound in it's whisper. "The things I can do to you.. even I'd blush at saying. You be a good girl, Mr. J's going to have some fun with his doll."

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Earlier work between Matt and myself. However the program used is not old, I am now in possession of Photoshop - well it's not PS7 like I had once before they're pretty close to it, and it does make blending and moving the images much easier. And Harley's white face is much easier to make.

Also lets clear this up---I own nothing, copyrights to the pictures respective owners. Yes you have seen this before, the original was deleted.