jxhq - possession.

"nothing stands between us here.
and i won't be denied.
and i will be the one to hold you down.
kiss you so hard. oh take your breath away."
---

The Joker allowed her control of the limb to be offered up to her. With her preening and inspecting his false injury, he was busy staring at the nape of her neck now. The whimsical clown allowed his hands to move up and dared to prod at her soft flesh with his free hand, settling it on her hip and seeming to inspect what she was wearing. That hem of her skirt played between two fingers, and he'd finally give a sound of recognition when she'd begin to dig into that trademark bottle blonde. The key presented, and in such a nefarious way, would allow him to burst into a rather snarky laughter at how sneaky she had been. The woman had ensured it was't going to be found, and he had expected her to have stuffed it into the folds of that bra. When she the bronzed metal object out, he'd raise both of those chained wrists up and bring them around so she had an easier access to unlocking his arms and wrists for the first time. "I couldn't ask for more Doc. How'd you go about getting it anyways? They normally keep the keys on the guards at the station. Awful hard to get a spare made, atleast that's what I've.. ah.. heard." He remained steady, giving her an easy time with the unlocking of all of those limbs as she wished. Being objectively polite and careful with how close he was to freedom, if limited.

She seemed even to calm down even more now, especially when he was touched her. And seemed to allow it, she did not seem afraid of a mass murdering killer clown, no in fact she seemed to enjoy it. "Oh ya want to know how I got this little old thing?" She began stinking down to the ground to unshackle his legs, and hoping that the key still worked. It did, and she'd given him the freedom of his legs. With the key grasped in her fingers, she'd come up from between his legs, her hands on his thighs she'd push herself back up and move herself to his lap once again. "Ya see, I asked the guards for a key ta ya restraints after the second session. But they wouldn't give it ta me, say yous was too high of a risk. So I flirted and skirted with one of the new guys, and managed to get it, well he was tryin' to stop the blood from flowing to his dick." She'd allow his hand to be clutched with her own, once again soft finger tips caressed his skin. She allowed her fingers to roam as she found the slot for the key, inserting the key, she'd twist it and turn it. "Ya see this guard is married ta a nurse here, and if it got out that he was too busy gettin' hard ta da Arkham Slut to notice she took the key, well then. Da key was never reported stolen." She said with a other big old grin on her face.

He listened to her talk to him, that voice dripping with the accent of the the type of girl you fucked on the first date. All the brains she had, and as far as she got, it was all blind sided when she'd slip into her poor speech pattern. And it was music to his ears. The sophistication and false class slipped away under his duress, and the real woman inside came out. He enjoyed the falsehood she presented, the lie, almost as much as he did peeling back the paint and hearing the real thing underneath. But then something unexpected hit him, as she talked about the man and her method to get the key, a long dead emotion stirred in him. He felt discomfort, as if he was about to have a fit of bad food. Those brows furrowed as she talked, and worked the clasps and locks to free him. And when she completed her grin, a flash of anger struck him like a streak of lightening. His hands moved to grab the first thing he could, going to that tender throat, while he'd start to squeeze angrily at her. But if she had thought this was the plan all along, she'd realize promptly by his angry whispering that he wasn't having a fit of psychopathic thrill killing. No, no. The Joker was jealous. "You did what with who!? I told you, you were mine and you're getting one of these nitwits rocks off!? You filthy little creature! I should choke you dead.. right here! You're MINE." He rasped the last part angrily, before realizing she couldn't breath. Shock rocked him now, and he'd quickly loosen up and tug her silly little head into his waist apologethically while trying to decipher what had just happened.

She always felt weird talking in her normal voice, it was higher pitched, almost baby talked of sort and add that to her Long Island accent well, it made it even worst. She'd been so tortured about the speech pattern by her professors that she went to speech therapy to sound a little bit more normal. But there was something about this man that made it come back out. He made it right, and well she sat there telling her stories she didn't realize that he was getting angry and he was getting jealous; that was until he was choking her, she'd gasp and begin to fight him, her lips seconds away from turing blue as he whispered to her.When he claimed her, she felt a rush come through her, and settle between her thighs. She did not try to escape when he hugged her. Her arms wrapped about his waist as she tried to regain her voice. With a face buried into his stomach, once she thought she could speak again she did so. "Puddin, I didn't let him touch me and I didn't touch him. I just flirted to get what I wanted. I know I'm all ya'rs --- I'm nevea evea gotten let anotha guy touch me not as long as I live." That little minx was now finding herself pushed against his stomach trying to suck up to him the best she could, and trying to repress her coughing and choking the best she could.

He was almost ashamed at how he had acted. Though not fully, he was able to subdue it by attempting to placate her with those heavy handed pets into her hair. Part of him was doing this so she wouldn't run out of the room yelling, like one child trying to comfort the other so he wasn't tattled on. That commanding position remained solid as he kept the woman comfortably close to him, allowing her to get any last sputtering out before freeing her so to speak and allowing her to come back into a comfortable position if she wanted to. He was careful to keep himself in ease of range to snatch her back though if she wanted. He knew then that he would have finished her off without hesitation if she even considered running from him now. Joker's attachment was a scary thing to have for the poor girl. Searching for the thing to say to make it right, he'd keep himself working on the exact word while she herself would grovel to return to his good graces. And then like a light bulb it struck him, as he'd realize what it was he needed to say to make everything alright. Taking that perfect little face in his hands, he'd give a wincing smile and announce to her. "Sorry."

---

so i've been noticing a lot of people are uploading manips of joker & harley [with the combo of Heath & Brittany] --- with that being said, I had to make my presence known again.

I'm never ever going to stop, not now, not ever.

PS: Yes Matt and I rebooted Arkham, it's going there's going to be a lot more sex and lot more insanity. I'm already loving that Joker doesn't flinch when Harley touches him.