Methylenedioxymethamphetamine.

Crane opened his eyes to find his vision to be fizzy, foggy, pixelating into what seemed like an odd focus.. Even more so than when he normally didn’t have his glasses on. There was only one little lamp on, and it was pointing at the side of his face. He felt warm, content, as if he had no troubles in the world. Elevated, almost. He was laid on his back, he knew that much. The ceiling he was looking at was a dank, faded yellowish-green, he could tell by the awful decay above him that he was in the asylum.. But where?

He rolled his head to the side and saw that his hand was bound to the bar of an immobilised stretcher, and then rolled his head to the other side to see the same. His legs were free, he could move those, but when he did, they felt a strange sort of tingle. “Why am I so happy?” he wondered. Absent-mindedly, he noticed a mirror next to his stretcher. He was grinning from ear to ear. “Have I been smiling this whole time?”

It felt almost as if he were floating. He closed his eyes, and could hear his heart thumping, “ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum”, he sighed, imitating it. Opening his eyes yet again to the strange fuzzy focus, he looked at the mirror again. He examined his face, paying attention to his cute, full lips, then moving the attention to his marble-like blue eyes. “My pupils are.. So.. Large..”

A sarcastic clap sounded from the shadows in front of him. “Very observant, doctor.”
Jonathan’s head moved to look at who ever had spoken to him. “Who’s there?” he asked, his head feeling slightly dizzy from the sudden movement. He saw a figure moving, but the shadows would not let him see who it was. “Please.. I don’t know wha-“
“Shh, shh, doctor,” the voice spoke, “If you’d prefer, I’ll turn the lights on, and then we can talk.”

Bright lights flickered above him, causing a strange feeling of wonder in Jonathan. The lights normally would have hurt his eyes, but he couldn’t take his point of focus away from them. His mouth hung open and he exhaled heavily, a quiet sound of “ah” escaping.
“So, how are you feeling?” the mystery voice asked, clinking and clattering away at a small table of instruments. “Are you scared, Doctor Crane?”

“I’m feeling.. I feel like everything is at peace. I’m so happy, but so calm. I can’t sum it up.. I feel so wonderful, but all I’m doing is lying down. What’s happened to me?” He tore his eyes from the lights above him and looked towards the jingle-jangle metallic noises, seeing the figure. Purple suit, scratty hair, greasy and faded green. He knew this figure, he knew him well. Not personally, but from the news. From the word of the mob. “J..oker?”

“Ahaha.. Haa..”

The figure spun around to face Jonathan. He held a syringe between his fingers and grinned, shooting his menacing eyes towards the bound doctor. He wandered towards him, wiggling the syringe, pushing on the bottom of it so that a little bit of fluid would spray from the tip of the needle. “See this, doctor?” he asked with mock innocence, holding it close to Jonathan’s face, “I put this.. In you. HAHAHAHAHA!!”

Jonathan’s smile vanished. “What is this? Do you even know what you mixed together to put in that?!”

The Joker leaned forwards towards Jonathan, so close that Jonathan could feel the warm breath on his face.

“Well, you see.. My grandfather was a chemist.. Who helped the police,” he started, and lowered the needle. “And sometimes, when my parents went on their special days out, they left me with him. He would take me to work with him, and sometimes even let me watch him making experiments. He loved to.. Blow things up. I wasn’t allowed to touch the powders, liquids, or tablets, and why would I have been? He didn’t want me to get hurt..”

Jonathan felt his chest heaving, but the extreme happiness refused to die away. He was genuinely interested in whatever this disfigured freak had to say, and had not yet broken eye contact with him.

“One day, we were in his lab, and he got called away.. ‘POST HASTE!’, the lieutenant had shouted at him, and so he left me there.. In his lab.. Bottles of strange liquids, bubbling test tubes without labels were everywhere!!” He lifted the needle of the syringe and gently dragged it along Jonathan’s lips, and traced where his own scars were on Jonathan’s face. “I had seen him doing his crazy experiments.. Throwing bits of this and bits of that into tubes, and we cheered when they went.. BOOM! Hahaha!!”

He turned from his face and looked at Jonathan’s body, and then started to unbutton the shirt covering Jonathan’s chest. “So.. I took some powder.. And some liquid.. And I put it into a conical glass. But it didn’t go boom.”

“What happened..?” Jonathan asked, not caring about his shirt now being thrown to the floor. He looked straight at the Joker, who turned to face him again.

“What happened was, doctor.. I saved some. In a syringe, just like this one.. And the recipe. Turns out I had mixed a regional anaesthetic with some MDMA. It makes people under its control very.. Relaxed. Like you are right now.”

“How long will I feel like this?”

The Joker unbuckled Jonathan’s belt. “Give it four or five hours.. But that gives me enough time to get what I want out of you..”

The belt was quickly pulled from the loops in Jonathan’s slacks, and soon enough, those were on the floor, too.

“I’m not a stupid man,” Jonathan sighed, and let his head fall back down onto the stretcher. He smiled and embraced the sparks of energy and warmth that were making his body feel heavenly. “So I know what you’re wanting.. But what does it mean that I get?”

The Joker mounted the stretcher and kneeled over Jonathan’s body. He leant forwards and pressed himself against the skinner man, then grabbed his bound hands. “You get your hands freed afterwards. If you co-operate. But you.. Seem nervous. Don’t let the scars scare you, beautiful.”

Jonathan lifted his head a little and smiled meekly. “Your scars don’t frighten me.” He closed his eyes and heard the Joker’s horrendously loud laugh. He felt himself smiling wider, his lips parting, soon finding he was giggling along through his teeth. Nothing was funny, of course not, but the he just felt so uncontrollably happy, it was almost as if he were compelled to laugh, too.

He felt his cotton boxers being pulled down from his hips, and a sudden rush of heat to his crotch. “Because of the mix of the chemicals inside me, will I be able to react to arousal?” he asked, bookishly.

“I don’t see why not,” the Joker responded, dismounting the stretcher, “There was a little bit of sildenafil citrate in that mixture.. I made this batch just for you, you know.”
He walked slowly to the side of the stretcher, watching Jonathan’s face intently as he did. He grinned at seeing Jonathan’s semi-hard cock, curved to his hipbone. “I hope I can.. Make this.. Go boom. HAHAHAA!”

He touched Jonathan’s cock with his leather gloves, squeezing it a little, feeling it pulse gently. He rolled the soft skin up and down over the swelling shaft for a few seconds, then leant his body forward to take it in his mouth. Jonathan inhaled sharply and his eyes snapped open. Fellatio had never felt this intense before. He did not just feel warm anymore, he felt hot. His pulse quickened and his heart’s beating became louder in his head. He was unable to talk, so simply made noises.

The Joker’s mouth was hot, wet, and skilful. He suckled the head with tightly pursed lips, moving it further into the orifice, letting his tongue tease and play with the now hard cock. Allowing his throat to relax, he took Jonathan’s cock deeper, the tip just hitting the back of his throat. He contracted his throat and swallowed around it, his ego feasting in Jonathan’s loud, appreciative whines. The slurping noises coming from his mouth almost made it sound as if he were devouring him.

He moved one hand to his own crotch, unzipped his slacks and pushed his boxers out of the way, pulling out his pulsing erection. He pulled it roughly, revelling in the friction of the leather against his bare skin.

Jonathan gasped and gasped, desperate for his voice to come back. “Aaah J.. Jo.. Ahh..”
He tensed his thighs and ass, and only barely managed to lift his feeble hips up and down, sliding his cock in and out of the Joker’s hot mouth. “Aaahh..!”

The Joker stopped abruptly, and stood straight. He saw Jonathan’s eyes widen as he looked at him holding his cock. “You look nervous again,” he said, grinning his maniacal grin. He kicked the slacks and boxers from his legs to the floor and let go of his hard flesh. “I’m going to untie your hands now. Promise you won’t try and do anything.. Stupid.”

Jonathan nodded, and as the binds were untied, his hands tingled with the rush of blood back to its regular circulation. The Joker’s arms cradled his chest as he was pulled from the stretcher and let to lie on the cold floor. “You wouldn’t have been able to get up and do that yourself, you see..”

Jonathan rolled himself onto his side and rested his head on the wall. He felt like he was burning in his crotch, it was so sensitive to any touch. Even the cold draft coming through the gap at the bottom of the door made him shiver in ecstasy. He watched as the Joker dropped to his knees, spat in the palms of his hands and rubbed the saliva over his cock. He then took a gloved finger into his mouth and coated it in more saliva.

With his other hand, he lifted Jonathan’s leg over his shoulder and pulled his hips closer to his crotch. “Word has it that you’ve done this before, doctor..”

“Mh,” was all that Jonathan could grunt in reply. He felt his mouth open and his eyelids drop as suddenly, his asshole was rubbed, prodded, then stretched by the Joker’s long, thin finger. A second finger was pushed inside the tight hole, and he felt electricity within him as his special spot was smoothed over by arched fingers. His groans and whines became louder as the Joker’s fingers began scissoring, stretching him more to allow less pain for Jonathan. ‘After all,’ the Joker thought, ‘He did request I cause as little pain as possible.’

“T-that.. That,” Jonathan started, trying to find his voice, “Enough.. “

The Joker looked him dead in the eye. “HAHAHAHAHA! ENOUGH? YOU WANT IT NOW?!”
“Ye.. Yes!!” Jonathan whined, rolling his head back on the wall, his chest heaving. He felt the head of the Joker’s thick cock push against his asshole, and he squealed as it was forced through the tight muscle. He managed to contract it so that it gripped the Joker’s flesh, in turn giving the Joker less of a reason to be gentle with him.
He grabbed hold of Jonathan’s leg and hoisted it higher, giving him more leverage. He pushed in, pulled out, in, out, in out.. His eyes were fixed on Jonathan’s twisting face, and he laughed aloud.
Jonathan managed to move one of his hands to his cock to grip it, and he began tugging. He felt like he was going to explode with all the pressure and heat, and the chemicals still charging around his body were making him clumsy in his handwork.

“Hmm,” the Joker mumbled, “I think we should maybe.. Change position..”

He roughly pulled out of Jonathan and forced him onto his front, then grabbed the tiny hips and pulled his ass up higher. He lifted himself to a higher kneeling position, and eased his cock back inside the tight hole. As he bucked his hips faster, he laughed, and he leaned forward to grab hold of the back of Jonathan’s hair.

“AAH!” Jonathan whined, hair ripping from the back of your head was not very pleasurable, not even under these circumstances. His hand was still playing with his cock, and he knew he was nearing orgasm. ‘Oh God, please make him come soon’, he thought to himself. He could feel the Joker’s grip around his hips getting tighter, and he knew he would have bruises soon.
He felt his balls twitch, and the heat rise in his cock. “Aaa.. Aah!!” he cried, and he came hard into his hand, some hitting the wall. He could hear the Joker laughing behind him, and the lack of proper lubricant and the friction had made him numb. He slumped forwards, not caring that his messy hand had been pushed through his fringe.

After what seemed like hours to Jonathan, the Joker finished. He pulled Jonathan up by his shoulders and lifted him back to the stretcher. “Those.. Chemicals, they should probably wear off in about four hours,” he said inattentively as he pulled his boxers and slacks on again, “You need to occupy yourself.. And drink water.”

Jonathan cradled his chest and smiled. “Mmhmm..”

“I wouldn’t want you to dehydrate.. I want to do this again.”

Jonathan’s vision became hazy, and he closed his eyes. He could hear the Joker’s laugh even after he closed the wrought-iron door and was making his way down the Asylum’s corridors.

From what he knew about MDMA and anaesthetic, Jonathan was not looking forward to the headache that awaited him the next morning.