Power Struggle

The Joker leaned against the desk. He licked his lips and sucked on one of his fingers before he glanced over at the panting, groaning, cursing doctor. He was a big rattled mess. The Joker smirked. It was the best he had ever seen Crane. The Joker began collecting his clothes and redressing himself. With every step his took, Crane would move the chair to keep his eyes on him.

“I’d unravel any riddle, for any indivi’dle.” The Joker zipped up his pants and grabbed his shirt.

“Finished so soon, Joker?” Crane managed to compose himself and put the sharp pain in his leg to the back of his mind. There was nothing he could do while the Joker was there that wouldn’t get him killed. “I thought you’d have more stamina than that.”

The Joker slid on his vest and began to button it up. “In trouble or in pain.” He licked his lips. In one swift motion he grabbed his jacket and threw it on. “As much as I would love to stay and continue to make you scream like a woman,” Joker picked up the video camera and peered into the eyepiece. “I have a delivery to make to GCN.” He adjusted the zoom so Crane’s entire body was in view.

“Now, Dr. Crane, is there anything you would like to say to our audience before your time is up?”

Crane stared into the camera. Sweat dripped down his naked body. Every muscle in him ached. His face was swollen. He was filled with equal parts anger and shame, yet managed to maintain his professional demeanor. He smiled with a grand tone of malice. His eyes narrowed.

“I suppose a simple ‘go to Hell’ sums it up for me, Joker.”

“Say goodnight, Gracie.” The Joker flicked off the recorder and pressed the eject button. He raised a brow before chuckling.

“Oh, silly silly me. Looks like I forgot to put the tape in.” He shook his head, obviously not surprised. Crane’s heart sank. So much shame had been creeping through him. Everything he did within those few minutes was done out of desperation. The Joker was able to fully enjoy himself.

“You bastard.” The thin smile remained, though Jonathan wanted to scream.

The Joker sighed and slipped the small camera back into his coat. “C’est la vie.” The Joker blew a kiss as he turned for the door. His walk was filled with a pompous sense of accomplishment. Whether Dr. Crane had learned his lesson or not, the Joker did not know. Part of him hoped he would never have to deal with Crane’s feeble attempts at control again. However, the rest of him wanted to go over the lesson with the doctor once more.

Crane’s eyes were locked on the Joker as he swaggered out of the warehouse. He had been humiliated and controlled. He loathed the Joker. He despised the Joker. And yet his small smirk remained. There was always a first time for everything, and Crane’s revenge would not be taken out as fear. The Joker wouldn’t find himself confronted with some toxin or various other psychological attacks. Rather, Crane would allow the humor and chaos the Joker loved so much carry out his counter-attack. He wouldn’t even have to lift a finger. He wouldn’t have to say a word.

As the Joker waltzed away, Dr. Jonathan Crane saw no reason to tell him he still had a thick streak of cum in his messy green hair.