You've Got To Be Joking

A Shocking Turn of Events

"I can't believe you're crying already," he says with a sneer as he wipes his knife on his handkerchief, "I really expected much more of you. If you're not careful you'll salt your own wounds! HAHAAHAA!"

Bile starts to build in your throat. The lemon rind the Joker used to gag you is bitter and every time your try to swallow you end up nearly choking. "Well now if I didn't know any better I'd say this experience is leaving a bad taste in your mouth!" His howling laughter rings through the air. His fingers explore the inside of your cheek for a moment before fishing the lemon out.

Your head lolls forward, small sobs of fear and hatred start to build in your chest. A gentle hand lifts your chin and the Joker gazes into your red eyes, his brows are drawn together in some sort of distorted version of concern.
"Hey, it looks like you're getting cold feet..." he reaches up and strokes your numb palms, "and hands for that matter. Heh heh."

You've had enough puns and in your disgust you spit square in his face.
His features turn to shock for a split second before his rage strikes.
Like lightning his hand grabs your neck and pushes hard.
The bullseye you're strapped to pitches backwards, coming to an abrupt and painful stop. You're now laying horizontally, the air has been knocked out of you, and Mister J's hand still holds your arteries tightly. Somewhere in your mind you contemplate giving in before it gets worse. If the end of this means the end of you then why delay? Maybe if you just close your eyes...

"Just WHAT were you THINKING, HMM?" He yells as he releases his grip on you. You gasp and desperately drink in the chilly air. It burns your chest but you are grateful for the pain. The irony does not escape your notice and somewhere deep deep inside you, you snicker. Joker makes a spry leap onto the target that's now more akin to a table or, depending on how this all goes, a slab. J stands over you, and then squats to sit, placing his weight upon your pelvis.
"Really. WHAT were you thinking," he asks while wagging his finger as he wipes his face. Then, with a guttural growl, "ANSWER ME!"

You flinch at the rumble of his voice and vaguely register that you could feel it vibrate in your body. You ask whether or not he's going to kill you. He gives an exaggerated shrug, "I haven't decided yet."
You ask why he's doing this. Mister J's eyes widen as he chuckles and scratches his head.
"WHY, eh? Hmm," he frowns, "you know, I guess I hadn't thought about it. I had the idea for a little fun and you happened to be the first person I saw," then he scowls and shrugs, "I mean, sure, I've got a gal that LOVES my abuse, but there's something rewarding about what you and I have here. When it's too easy it just doesn't feel right. So, here we are," the corners of his mouth turn upwards again, "I'll tell you though, with luck like this I would advise you against buying a lottery ticket! HEEHEEHEEHHAHAAHAHAHAHOOHOOHOO!"

Appalled, confused, and feeling sick, you go limp and start to gently sob.
Joker dismounts the table and chuckles to himself as he wipes your tears and checks your bonds. He runs his fingers under the leather and inspects your skin. Then, stopping at your waist, he unbuckles the clasp and lets the straps fall to the sides. You didn't realize how much you had sweated under the shackle until the air hit. As though he knows what is happening, the Joker blows gently on your chafed belly. Your skin turns to goosebumps and your hips rise from the table ever so slightly. Joker sees this and he snickers, a strange mischievous expression passing over his face.

Mister J enjoys a slow giggling mosey to the head of the bullseye. He produces a glass of water with a winding, looping, brightly colored straw. Stooping, he lifts your head and guides the straw to your mouth.
It's just water but it tastes like ambrosia. You suck it down greedily. You look up at him, feeling grateful and also disdainful. He was watching and biting his lower lip. He cups your chin to pull your gaze deeper into his. You can feel his proximity acutely. He shifts his weight, adjusting his trousers, gyrating ever so slightly.