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Freak is an Ugly Word

By: torturequeen06
folder zMisplaced Stories [ADMIN use only] › Batman (All Movies)
Rating: Adult +
Chapters: 31
Views: 7,077
Reviews: 16
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Disclaimer: I do not own The Dark Knight, and I do not make any money from this story.
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Marks and Scars

Another chapter out for all of you. No smut in this one. All storyline. Hope that all of you like it. Just let me know.

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The building that Princess and Joker stood in front of was thin and made of bricks. It had two large windows on either side of the door with drawings all over them, so thick you could barley see what was inside. An open sign hung in the window of the front door and beneath it, painted on the glass was the hours of business. The word “Twisted” was painted on the left window in bold blood red gothic lettering outlined in black as was the same with the word “Points” but on the right side.

“Twisted Points?” Princess asked in confusion. She had never heard of such a place
before. “Why are we here?” Joker just giggled excitedly and pushed her through the door.
Upon entering the building, Princess heard a buzzing noise. It was accompanied by curses and wincing. The noise frightened her and she clung on tighter to Joker and his jacket. Why would he bring her to this place? What kind of place was it? More and more questions entered her mind as well as horrible thought. At one point, it crossed her mind that this was a place of torture and Joker was punishing her for what had happened earlier.
If Princess had grown up in a more stable environment, she would have known it to be a tattoo and piercing parlor. But she had not. She had never set foot in such a place, though many of the men that had paid for her services had had tattoo covering some part of their body. Even some of the other girls had tattoo or a piercing of some sort.

Princess was not allowed to mar her body willingly. Her body was not hers and she could not do as she wished with it. Princess had been lucky that Croc had been able to talk one of the mob bosses into letting him move in with her. He had been one of the nice ones. Maroni she believed his name to be. He had taken over the Italian portion of the mob with Falcone had been sent to Arkham. If not for him, Princess would still be starving and hardly have enough money to pay her rent and utilities.

“Can I help ya?” a very tattooed and pierced young male asked them from behind the single desk. When he glanced up and his eyes hit Joker’s face, the corners of his lips twitched. His glance hit Princess quickly, hardly taking any of her in. The man had seen a lot of women come through, what’s one more to him. “I’m guessin’ ya want ta mark the little lady.” A statement of fact, not a question.

Princess looked up at Joker in confusion. Just what did this guy mean by “mark?” What kind of mark was he going to leave her with?

Joker ignored Princess’ questioning eyes and grinned at the man. “Ya guessed right. I’d like ta get it done as soon as possible. I gotta show a few unruly men that she’s mine. Can’t cut off all their fingers.”

The tattooed man smiled, not knowing if Joker was being serious or not. In Gotham it was hard to tell. Strange, sick, perverted people lived within the city limits. The man had seen all sorts. “Well,” started the man, “seein’ as I ain’t doin’ nothin’ else, I’ll go ‘head and take care of ya guys.”

“What’s he mean?” Princess asked frantically. “What’s he gonna mark me with? Am I in trouble for earlia? I’m sorry.”

A light chuckle bubbled from Joker’s throat. “No, no, Princess. You’re not in trouble for earlier. That wasn’t your fault. I’m just, how should I word this so that you understand,” he took a moment to think of what to say, “markin’ my territory. Lettin’ all the others know that you’re mine and they can’t touch you.”

That called Princess down slightly. She still did not understand just what she was going to be marked with. The only markings someone had ever left her were bite marks and scars. “Twisted Points” did not sound like a place that was going to cut her up, but names can be deceiving. She had learned that real quick.

When she had first came into the “employment” of the mob there had been a man people called Sweet. Nothing about that man was sweet. He had given her the beatings of a life times several times over. Sweet had been the main enforcer of the mob and they liked to use him on her a lot. He was still working for them, but since Croc had taken an interest in her, he had steered clear of her. Many were afraid of Croc, his short temper, and his overly large fist. Other than her, very few had met the true side of Croc. The kind and gentle side. Princess considered herself lucky for that.

But now, he was not there. Only Joker. Princess did not mind. He seemed to be just as nice to her as Croc was, and had saved her. The man she was clinging onto had done something that she had thought impossible. She owed him so much and would do whatever he wanted of her.

The tattoo artist behind the counter raised his eyebrows at her. “Is she stupid or somethin’?” he asked Joker pointing at Princess.

“No,” Joker paused for a moment gazing down at Princess and licked his lips, “well, maybe just a little. But it’s not her fault. Poor Princess here has been deprived of the outside world by evil men, who we won’t speak of.”

“Whateva,” the tattoo artist stated. “Jus’ follow me.”

As Joker, following the man, led her to a back room, the buzzing noise grew louder. She really did not like the sound at all. It sounded like a thousand bees swarming around her ready to prick her with their stingers. Princess did not like bees, she was allergic to them. Just one sting from them would close her throat and she’d be forced to go to the hospital. Luckily, not many bees found the Narrows a habitable place.

Once they were in the room, the artist pointed to an object in the center of the room he called a bed. Princess did not think that it was similar to a bed in any way, except that you could lay on it. It was more like a couch with no back or arms and one side lifted slightly with a cousin to rest the head on. But she obeyed the man and laid on it.

While she lay there, Joker and the man sat at a desk and seemed to be talking about something. Princess paid them no mind. She was tired and her mind could not focus on one thing. Her eyes roamed the room, but could not process what she was seeing. The men were taking an awful long time talking, so Princess decided to close her eyes. When she felt the bottom of her shirt being lifted up, Princess shot up.

Strong hands gripped her shoulders and pulled her back down. Looking at the arms, she spotted the start of a purple jacket and relaxed slightly. When he gaze hit his face, Joker grinned down at her and ruffled her hair. She could not help but smile back.

“No good, man,” the artist commented. “The right won’t do. She’s got a huge scar on it. Ink don’t take too well with scars. Not to mention that it jus’ messes up the tat.” His finger lightly traced the scar that started just under the right side of her ribs down to her hipline. “A knife did that one. Maybe it’s a good thing someone like ya took her.”

“Now, what’s that supposed to mean?” Joker asked cocking his head to the side.

“No offense, dude, but ya creep me out. I’ve met a lot of creepy people while workin’ here, but so far, you top them.”

A giggle left Joker. “Many people seem to think the same. But Princess here don’t.”

The artist sighed. “’Nother thing I see a lot of is brainwashed women, and it looks like ya made one.”

“Pretty ain’t she?”

Rolling his eyes, the artist replied, “Stupid too.”

Princess looked back and forth between the two men. They were talking about her, that much she knew. She, also, knew that she should be offended for some reason, but her mind was too exhausted to comprehend anything. She just closed her eyes and let them continue talking. There was nothing for her to worry about anyways.

“What ‘bout the left?” she heard Joker inquire.

The swipe of the artist hand was felt on her left hip. “Looks fine. I’ll jus’ do it there.”

The sound of buzzing filled the room. It assaulted Princess’ ears and her eyes shot open. She was on the verge of running away, but the grip Joker had on her shoulders tightened to a painful one. With a pleading look, she gazed up at him. He grinned down at her. “Calm down, Princess. It’ll all be over soon.”

Ready to ask what would be over soon, she was cut off when she felt the first prick of seemingly a thousand needles stabbing her. As the points of the needles started to move across her skin, they left a fiery sensation behind. Princess did not like the feeling of the needles, but she found the burning sensation quite enjoyable. She was truly a masochist and wanted nothing more than for it to continue. Biting her lower lip, her hands reached up and clawed at Joker’s jacket. She fought the urge to arch her back out of fear if she moved, the man would stop and take the burning with him.

Feeling Princess’ nail dig through the fabric of his jacket catching his arm, Joker gazed down at her. He expected her face to be filled with pain, not the pleasure he saw. A cackle nearly erupted from him. He had never seen such bliss on a person’s face before. “Ever seen this before?” Joker asked the man.

The artist glanced up from his work and smirked. “I have,” he answered turning back to his work. “Happens more in chicks then dudes. Hadda woman stop me once, beggin’ me to fuck her. ‘Nother blew her boyfriend in front of me. Gotta say, the last was awkward, but the first was enjoyable.”

“I bet. How much longer? I don’t think Princess here can handle too much more.”

“I jus’ finished the outline. All that’s left is filling it in since it’s going to be one color. Hafta switch needles for that.”

When the artist withdrew the gun and started to switch the needles out, Princess whimpered. She gazed up at Joker with pleading eyes. “He ain’t finished just yet, Princess. Keep your panties on.”

“What panties?” he heard her murmur. He guffawed at that one.

Again the tattoo artist rolled his eyes. He pressed the tip of the gun onto Princess’ flesh and continued to work. The sooner he finished, the sooner the creep and his woman could leave. As soon as he had set eyes on them, he knew that they were no good. Well, at least the man. The girl just seemed to be enthralled with him. She was too stupid to realize that the man was dangerous. By the way that she clung to him, he knew that if he tried to tell her that she would not believe him.

The artist had to admit, Joker did have an entrancing presence about him. The way he spoke and smiled just made one think he was just some side show clown. But his gestures and what he said were different. His hands moved smoothly and skillfully like he had many years of practice using his hands and the knives that he had spotted in the man’s pockets. And the way he had said that he did not want to chop of anymore fingers had set off alarms in the artist’s head, though Joker had seemingly spoke in jest.

His eyes were the worst. Two brown orbs that had gazed at him with such intensity he thought the man was searching his soul. Just thinking about it nearly sent the artist in shivers. Everything about Joker screamed danger, but the girl did not seem to notice. She was young and stupid. So very stupid. The same question that had run through Bob’s mind earlier that night ran through the artist’s as well. Just why would he want her?

After a good part of an hour passed by, the artist sat up from his work and proclaimed that he was finished. Before Princess had the time to look down and see what he had done, he covered it with a thick piece of gauze and taped it to her skin. He then instructed Joker, not her, that it would have to be bandaged for a few days and he would have to rub some kind of ointment on it. Joker took said ointment that was offered to him and gave the man a wad of bills without even bothering to count it.

“C’mon, Princess,” called Joker as he started to leave the room. Princess jumped from the “bed” and followed.

The artist watched them depart, knowing deep down he should have stopped the girl. He did not and would not. He glanced down at the wadded bills. Somehow, the money felt tainted and he no longer wanted in his hand for fear it would infect him. He tossed it on the nearby table and decided to call it a night.

For the second time that night, Joker had his hand around Princess’ small wrist and was dragging her through town. He was walking so quickly and taking such long strides, Princess had to jog to keep up with him. She needn’t bother to inquire as to where they were going. They were headed back to the warehouse, that much was made clear by the route that he was dragging her.

When they reached the warehouse, Princess legs were wobbly and she could hardly stand. Her breaths came in short pants and her lungs burned from the effort of breathing. It was only when they reached her room did they stop. When Joker let go of her wrist so that he could close the door, Princess’ legs gave out. She fell to the concrete floor landing hard on her butt.

While he was shrugging off his jacket, she crawled to the bed. Resting her head on one of the green covered pillows, she closed her eyes. Her body bounced slightly when Joker heavily threw himself on the bed. The bed may have been on the floor, but the springs were still in good working order.

His thumb, now ungloved, traced her lower lip while the rest of his hand lay on her left cheek. She cuddled into his hand and nipped at his thumb playfully. His thumb ran across her lips harder and she sighed. “Did Princess enjoy gettin’ a tattoo?” Princess nodded with her eyes close, still enjoying his touch. “Is Princess tired?” Another nod to his question. “That’s too bad, Joker has other plans for Princess.” A shiver of delight ran through her body. “But first, Princess needs a shower. That dirty man tainted her and we need to clean him off of her.”

“But I’m too tired ta take a shower,” protested Princess.

“Too bad!” Joker cried cheerfully. Quick as a cat he stood up, and somehow, in the same movement, threw Princess over his shoulder. Her face hit his back and crushed her nose. Luckily, the weight did not damage it, but it hurt like a bitch.

“Put me down,” she squealed.

“Nope.”

She released a frustrated growl. “This is embarrassin’. My skirt is too short for this.”

“Embarrassin’ is such a long word for someone so simple minded.” Princess frowned at the insult, but said nothing. “And don’t worry ‘bout your skirt, we ain’t gonna pass no one.” As soon as he finished the sentence, one of the men walked by snickering.

Great, thought Princess, now he’s gonna go back and tell all his buddies what he saw.
The further they walked, more like Joker walked, the sound of running water could be heard. It grew louder and louder with each step he took. When he finally stopped, they were in a room filled with steam. The air was so thick with it, Princess found it hard to breathe. The hold he had on her hips released and he shrugged her off of his shoulder. Princess fell to the tan tiled floor in an ungraceful heap.

She sat up to glare at the man, but her eyes landed on something different. Four men were in the room with them and each was void of clothing standing under the sprinkling water. Embarrassed and flushing, she turned the other way. Bob had been right, she was the shiest prostitute known to man.

Joker gazed at the four men intently. “Out!” he commanded them.

“Sure thing, Boss,” one of them said. All of them turned off the water and donned themselves in towels. A couple of them grumbled while they left while the others smiled knowingly.

As they walked off, Princess buried her face in her knees so not to look at them. Joker laughed at her while forcing her to her feet. “Aw, is Princess shy?” he mockingly asked her. She did not answer him, and she did not need to. The embarrassment was written clear as day on her face. “Never thought a whore would be this shy.” Princess rolled her eyes at the comment. “Don’t roll your eyes at me,” hissed Joker.

Princess stiffened, waiting for his heavy hand to land a blow across her face. Much to her surprise and delight, it never came. When it was evident he was not going to hit her, Princess gazed up at him in confusion. Was it not normal for people to strike another when angry at them?

“Did Princess think I was gonna hit her?” he inquired raising his eyebrows. Biting her lip, Princess nodded. Joker drew her in close to his body, smashing her cheek into his chest. “Joker would never hurt his precious Princess.”

Precious. A smile lit up Princess’ face when she heard the word. No one, not even Croc had ever called her precious. The smile was wiped off her face at the thought of what she now deemed the other man. Why was she thinking of Croc so much? He was not there, did not save her, and was there for no longer important. Right? She never loved him, but he did love her. Was that enough to be worthy of him interrupting her thoughts of the man that was now holding her? Princess did not believe so. So, she pushed him out of her mind for what she hoped was forever.

“Now,” Joker started, smacking his lips together, “let’s get Princess cleaned up.”
Why was Joker talking to her in third person? All part of his conditioning for her. It was similar to that as someone training a dog. No one ever asked their pet, “Do you want to go outside?” It was always, “Does Snuggles want to go outside?” This sort of training was also used on babies and small children. Helped them distinguish who they are and who was talking to them. Joker’s method was leaning toward the dog training. He, Joker, was placing in her mind slowly that he was her master, and Princess, was his pup. So far, the method was working perfectly for him.

She was responding better to the training than he had first thought. Even now, her blue eyes were filled with the eagerness to please him, much like a puppy. He had a thought to change her name, but Princess was such a fitting name for a pet. Many people named their female pets Princess.

“Take off your clothes,” commanded Joker as he walked away.

Doing as told, Princess started to get undressed. She started with her boots, which she was very glad to peel away from the skin of her thighs and calves. With the boots off, she lost a good three inches of height. The pimps used to make her wear longer heels, but Princess could be quite clumsy. Cracks just seemingly grew in the concrete before her. Most nights, she ended up with both ankles twisted and swollen. It’s very hard to get out of already tight boots when ankles were swollen making them even tighter. Bob had been the one to suggest shorter heels, and she was very grateful for that, though, she still tripped every once in a while.

Once all of her clothes were off, Princess stood trying to cover herself as best as possible. Just because she was a whore did not mean that she could not be shy about her body. She was bony, small breasted, and her body was littered with random scars, most she could not remember how she got them. The one that ran from her right hip to the underside of her ribs was one of those. There were many possibilities where that one could have come from, but she could not recall anyone ever pulling a knife on her.

“C’here, Princess,” Joker called to her. Without looking up, Princess somehow managed to find where he was. Her eyes spotted his dirty shoes and she stopped before them. With no warning, he pushed her into the falling water. She yipped and jumped back. The water was hot, scalding hot! It had hurt to stand under it just for that second. “What’s wrong? Water too hot for Princess?”

“Yeah!” she exclaimed. “Are ya tryin’ to burn me ta death?!”

Joker clicked his tongue. “The water has to be hot. Gotta get that dirty man off of Princess. Does Princess want to sleep alone tonight?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Then she should get under that water, shouldn’t she?”

Princess nodded looking downcast. Taking a deep breath and holding it, she stepped under the scalding hot water. She cringed as the water snaked its way around her body. The heat was suffocating and she found it hard to breathe, or it could be that she was still holding her breath. Finally realizing that she was indeed still holding her breath, she released it and gasped in deep breaths of air and some water. Coughing and sputtering, she listened to Joker laugh at her.

“Poor, poor Princess,” he cooed. “She’s so simple minded.”

Princess had heard him call her that before. For some reason, she felt she should be insulted. Normally, she would have been, but he said it so sweetly. Like it was a good thing. Once again, the battle of her mind and body ensued. Her brain was telling her it was just fine, while her body was itching to hit him. Deciding it best, she let her mind win over once again.

“Here’s a rag and soap so Princess can clean herself up.” He handed her a rag and a bar of plain white soap. “Joker will be back to get his Princess in a little bit.”

He started to walk away, but Princess stopped him. “How is the water runnin’, I mean, wouldn’ it be shut off or somethin’?”

A large grin cracked Joker’s face. “It’s magic!” With his hands he overdramatically waved his hand in the air. “Now clean up!”

With a sigh, Princess did as she was told. As she lathered up the rag with the soap, Joker left to do whatever it is he does. It would seem he was always leaving her alone. At that moment, Princess was glad to have some privacy. When the rag was nice and soapy, she started to clean herself, wondering why Joker was obsessed with cleanliness.

Just like any other person, Princess enjoyed being clean. It was a nice sensation, not to mention it took off the smell of all the other men she had been with. The other men had never been worried about her being clean, but Joker was. Not even Croc complained. And there he was, back in her mind once again. A dull ache in her chest told her that she missed him, missed him terribly. But she was in the hands of Joker now, and he did not matter. Joker would protect her and take care of her.

Right?

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So, that's the end of chapter 7. Hope that you readers found it enjoyable. Just let me know. Rates and reviews would be ever so wonderful.
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