“Lovefool” New Short Story

Omnibus in foro S.P.D.

Keeping at my word and continuing this “skin-shedding” metamorphoses we find Tragedienne travelling down a foreign lane writing wise.  I normally do not write anything of the “erotic” nature,  if I do it’s every 3-4 years quite literally.  Normally I prefer to  keep such kinky and delectable thoughts and actions off the writing tablet if you know what I mean.   Acknowledging that  most of my writing is  of the “dark” nature,  but you have dark then there is the “Oh snap” dark where you’re blushing 50 shades of red kind of dark.  But this story was just screaming at me practically begging me to write it.   For those that do not know (well you do now)  I am huge fan of Comics and especially that of Harley Quinn.  This story scenario is about Harley Quinn being released from a recent stint in the Arkham Insane Asylum, our favorite clown-doll has decided this time around she is going to lead a “cleaner” life.  However the Joker has a completely different opinion on that matter, this story is given a tad bit of sugar and a lot of spice 😉  Although I tried to keep to the spirit of Harley Quinn’s character and to the fact she was exposed to certain medical treatments in Arkham her mental state is quite shattered one would say.  * **Hoists Disclaimer*** Definitely not one for the kiddies or those with delicate mindsets however  feedback is most certainly appreciated.

P.S.  Yes folks I believe I have just written Fan Fiction officially for the very first time.  *ducks*


Tragedienne (Bone Mamma Belle)

Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one. All characters, places, etc, in here are not mine and I don’t profit. All that’s mine is the plot of the story.

Lovefool 10/13/2013

She felt helpless. She felt confused. She felt scared. She was feeling the whole triple threat of helplessness, confusion, and fear. Not scared for her life, although in her current predicament, she should be. Right now, she was bound and gagged in a chair. Earlier she had been flogged. The pain had been so great that she passed out. Yet strangely she felt safe, as if no real harm would truly come to her. A mere flogging was nothing. She had lived with him all this time. She was used to a little pain.


Besides, she also had her babies, Bud and Lou, although she did not hear their cries. Actually, she couldn’t hear anything. She slowly opened her eyes. As they adjusted, she could see that she was in a dim room. Pictures and newspaper clippings of the pair’s most famous crimes draped the walls. Also, she saw a picture of that pointy-eared dweeb and his brat on the wall, marked fittingly with a Big Red X over their faces.


Their correct names were Batman and Robin. She had to address them properly now. She had been released from Arkham Insane Asylum just two days previously because she had been declared sane once more. Sane people did not want to hurt other people. Only insane people wanted to kill people, or at least that’s what she remembered Dr. Leland saying in one of their many sessions.


She didn’t want to hurt anybody; she just wanted to be normal. Not that she knew what normal was anymore. Hell, she owned two pet hyenas, for crying out loud. But the babies wouldn’t hurt anyone, at least not intentionally. Fresh tears spilled down her clown make-up at the very thought of going back to Arkham.


Never again,” she swore. She was sick of that place. She hated it with every fiber of her being. That place is where she had met him. Upon that meeting, he changed her life with a seduction so dark it was painfully sweet and delicious. Just thinking about it caused her to feel certain sensations between her legs.


She was disappointed to have such feelings. Dr. Leland had said those electro-shock treatments would take away such urges. They were supposed to make her normal, and normal girls didn’t think of kinky sex. Again, fresh tears spilled upon the white of her make-up. Due to the binding of the ropes, she couldn’t even wipe them away. Damn this helplessness.


As if someone responded to her most inner thoughts, she felt a warm hand clasp her shoulder from behind. Just by the sound of the breathing, she knew it was him. She instinctively tried to nuzzle his hand with the side of her face. He shoved her face away with a cruel laugh. He stood before her in a crisp pin-stripe suit, his green hair done in perfection, as was the rest of his make-up. Seeing him brought back a flood of memories, and all she wanted to do was beg forgiveness for whatever transgression she may have done or caused while she was away.



My sweet Harley. My sweet Harley Quinn.”



He said her name so huskily it brought more warmth between her legs. This was a trial for her to prove her sanity. She had to fight him and not succumb to the lust he always brought to her.



You’ve got to fight him, Harley,” she said to herself.



Tell me, Harley, have I done something wrong? You haven’t been yourself since being released from Arkham. I mean, you didn’t report back as instructed. You told one of the Henchmen that you want to live a ‘clean’ life. I had to kidnap you, Harley Quinn. Do you know how much trouble you have caused me?” The Joker asked his former number one henchman.



It had been a very long time since he had spoken to her like this, in such a soft tone. Normally, he was always yelling at her. This soft tone caught her off guard completely. He stepped even closer to her to remove the ball gag he had had one of the henchmen put on her.






I’m sorry.”


“I’m sorry what?”


I’m sorry Mista J,” Harley said with familiarity.


He grabbed her by the platinum blonde pigtails she so loved to wear. His look was fierce and commanding.


That’s much better. You want to live a “clean” life you say? Do you remember the ever-so-squeaky-clean life you were living before I saved you? You were in Arkham, slaving away as a supposed doctor. Remember the pain you were feeling? I saved you from that. I set you free, you ungrateful bitch!”


She looked at him and said nothing, because that’s all she could do. She did not want him to point out her old life when she was “Harleen.” Those were too many memories that carried too much pain. The electro-shock treatments couldn’t even take those away, only bury them far, far deep.


I will not let you go back to that ‘clean’ life you so hope for. You belong here, don’t you understand? Wake up and smell the napalm, girl! It’s time you remember who you really are.”

He pulled out a knife and instead of quickly cutting the ropes, he did so slowly that the knife touched her clothing. Mumbling and cursing the whole time he did it. Even so, he teased her with the knife intermittently, shooting shivers up her spine. After the ropes were finally cut away, he commanded that Harley to stand up. With swift and sudden movements. The Joker kissed her deeply and savagely, biting her lip and smearing her clown make-up. It left her breathless.

Come. I have a surprise for you,” he said. “A reminder, as it were.”

She followed the Joker because in the end, she had no choice and she knew it.  In the next room, there was a red-haired woman tied up and ball-gagged as well. The woman was decked in her signature green. Instantly, Harley knew who it was.  Poison Ivy, her sometimes accomplice and partner-in-crime. It was she who messed up their last job together. Because of her screw-up, it had been Harley who was sent to Arkham. It was Harley who had got sent away to the Asylum, that very scary place, that place of terrifying nightmares. It was all Ivy’s fault in the end, she had gotten away with everything scott-free until now. How clever of the Boss to put two and two together.

The Joker circled his arms around her waist. His hands began to wander, making her gasp in deep pleasure. He placed a whip in her hand. The battle of defeating him was lost before it really began. She said a last goodbye to “normalcy” as she cackled in malicious delight. Poision Ivy’s green eyes stared at Harley in pure fear. She knew what was coming.


As she strutted forward, Harley’s expression changed from her own fear to impish delight as she found herself saying a familiar phrase.


Miss me, Puddin’?”



©2013 T.B. Morte



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s