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It's been weeks since anythings showed up on his radar. No major crimes reported on the police coms, nothing that they can't handle atleast.
He's tense, he can feel it. But instead of being tense from the usual exhaustion, it's from a crackiling eneregy in his muscles.
The criminal population of Gotham have been learning from thier mistakes and are finding better places to hide. Cowardly lot they are, but some adapt faster than others.
Greedy aspiring mobsters, or crooked politicians. All waiting for the next guy on top to kick the bucket, so they can make for a power grab.
Everythings been too damn quiet recently..
"You're gonna give yourself a aneurysm, dear.."
His neck twitches, thoughts interupted by that nassaly voice he's so used to.
"Everythings been so damn boring since you locked me up.. Admit it. I was a main source of entertainment in this damn place..". Her tone lifts and falls.
Like when she tells her stories, trying to capture the listener with her words and voice.
He lets out a gruff noise, one he usually uses when she tries to talk to him while he's working. She simply hums in response. He wonders what she's doing right now, but he doesn't want to look at her and enable her babbling.
"Yeeea, it looks like you're really focused on nothing over there. There hasn't been any big problems for...what a month now? How long have you had me in here? You know my concept of time can be shit sometimes.." she prods, he can feel her eyes on him. Green pools staring daggers at his back.
He sighs, and turns his chair to around. "Five weeks now." He says, looking the women in the cell over. He finally convinced her to wear the clothes in the wardrobe, but she refuses to wear the face patches over her scares. She smiles at his attention, if you can even call it a smile.
Martha sits cross legged on the bed, pearing at him.
"Poor bats, doesn't have any other fellow freaks outside to play with.." she puckers her bottom lip, tilting her head slightly. Her curly hair falls into her eyes.
Something twists in his chest twists, and he almost finds it funny that she of all people is calling him a freak. He flexes his gloved hands, her eyes glance to them. Her smile becomes confident, eyes looking like they're sizing him up.
He scoffs, "Crazy how criminals fall into line, when one of the biggest fucking instigators in this city has been apprehended." He holds her stare, they sit quietly peering at eachother. Then she laughs, green eyes squinting.
"Ooo naughty language batsy, you're just agro because you haven't seen any good action in months." She lays back on the bed and stretches. 'She looks comfortable..' he thinks vendictivlely. All the people she's killed and here she is laying in a plush bed. In a cell he modeled to look like they're old bedroom... god he's fucking lost it.
He looks away and zones out on a unimportant spot on the cave wall. He hears shuffling.
When he glances back to her she's sitting upright on the bed, legs hanging off the side of the bed. Martha crosses one leg over the other, like she's at a dinner party, and holdshis gaze. Then she starts unbuttoning her blouse.
"What are you doing?" He asks like he's suprised this is happening. Like Martha hasn't flirted with him to fuck with his head before. But she's never pulled something this.
The bitch rolls her eyes. "Oh come on, I can feel the wasted energy coming off you in waves. I've always been a pro at spending that tension, one way or another.." Her words have a lilt to them that reminds Thomas of a siren luring men to there death. Martha shrugs off her shirt and thumbs at her bra. He can feel himself swallows. She closes her eyes and grabs one of her breasts. Sighing as she leans her head back a bit.
He thinks that she probably wants him to come in there so she can strangle him, he should leave, look away..
Her lips quirk and shows a bit of teeth in her grin. She uncrosses her legs then spreads them apart. The women he's been hyperfocased on for years runs her hands down her thighs and squeezes then sighs.
He twitches. Her eyes open half lidded and looking at him under long green lashes. Her dark eyes rakes over him and a pink tongue comes out to lick her lips.
"All that tension and no where to let it out on.." her voice is almost whiny and it grates on his nerves. He feels his eyes zero in on her hand that comes up to grab her neck.
"If you think I'm coming in there you're dellusional." He reasons, wondering why he's even feeding her attention when it's what she wants.
"Hehehe who said anything about needin' you to come in here with me?" She moves to the foot of the bed and puts a pillow between her thighs. One hand going to her nipple, and the other at her throat.
"Mm as you know, I can get pretty damn creative bats." She goads, her pale complexion turning a bit flushed in the face.
"I don't-." He starts but stops when she lets out a breathy noise as she grinds particulary hard on the pillow. Martha bites her bottom lip, closes her eyes, and pinches her nipple hard. He can't bring himself to look away from her slender hand tightly gripping her neck.
Is she imagining it's him?
She giggles, and moves the hand on her tit to rake her nails down her stomach. Red lines slowly appearing. "Fuck, you gotta be hard by now.. huh old man?" She opens one of her eyes and Thomas looks back into the abyss.
He realizes his suit does feel tighter and more hot than it did before.. This all felt unreal. Martha with Jokers scars, in a cell that looks like it's from the past... It all feels wrong.
But it dawns on him, nothings felt right since he locked her up. Since he put a hold on thier little "game". And y'know what? If she's locked in here in his cave and not hurting anyone, why can't he indulge in the show she's putting on? He can't help but wonder what she can come up with to entertain herself..
"Alright.." she wouldn't have heard it if she wasn't listening carefully. Her eyes follow him as he stands up from his chair. He walks over to the cell and presses the trigger on his cod peice. Long strides get him to the glass cell right as he's taking his cock out. Martha grins wider then hops up from the bed, taking her pants off as she walks towards him. She stops in front of the glass, and he palms himself. Almost fully hard from watching her little "preformance".
Then she looks at him in his red eyes and pulls out her tits, pressing them against the glass. His cock jumps when she brings her hand to her mouth and starts sucking on her fingers.
"Damn.." he thinks as the women works her tongue around her digits.
Marthas wild hair falls in her face as she takes her fingers out and puts them in her underwear. She rubs hard and cackles.
"Aaaaah, always have loved an audience.." she coos sweetly, though theres a manic look in those acid green eyes. She glances down at his cock, still in his pants "Glad to see Thomas Jr.s still going strong, would be such a waste if such a big dick couldn't get hard anymore.." she trails off seemimg almost bored even as she rubs her breasts on the glass wall.
He growls. "Can you shut up for five seconds?" He asks as he takes his cock out, and runs his hand up and down it. She laughs and licks her lips. "I think you like my mouth more than you'd admit to, you just want to shut it up cause it spews facts." She pants, taking her hand that wasn't buisy with her clit and pitching her nipple.
She lets out a growl as she starts choking herself again. "S-shit I bet you wanna come in here and leave bruises on me.. think you can make me be a good clown huh??" She spits but she's still moving her hips with her hand, and Thomas imagines putting marks on those slim hips.
Her pupils are blown staring into the masks eyes. He thinks about taking it off but shoots the idea down.
He looks at where she's humping her hand and wonders how wet she is, if she still tastes the same..
"Well i got news for ya bats." She drops down to her knees, the same level his dick is. "Youre never gonna tame this gal.." she licks the glass infront of her. "I don't think you really want to anyway.." she grins up at him- and fuck-. He grunts and puts his cock up against the cool glass. Her eyes light up like it's fucking christmas and she starts licking the glass again. She giggles and moans, as she rides her hand and looks at him with feverish intensity.
She moves her free hand from the glass and pulls her hair, her pupils somehow dialating further. The pain making her moan and move her hand faster. He speeds up the hand on his cock and meets her obsessive stare.
Everything felt so hot, how could he possibly be expected to deny her this? When she's playing with herself and useing pain to get off. Memories flood his brain. Bloody, violent memories of Marthas blood on his fists.
Her sardonic smile, while that devilish tongue comes out to lick away some of the blood from her mouth and nose.
Shit he's not gonna last long.
Her laugh pulls him back. "Gonna cum Thomas? Paint the glass with your cum batsy-baby, I wanna see how much you can milk out!" She eagerly says as she starts to get more desperate. She bites her bottom lip until blood comes out.
God she makes a beutifuly morbid sight..
Nipples red from irritation, dragging against the glass. Hand in her Lacey underwear that has to be soaked by now..
He looks back to her scared mouth and thinks that maybe he can trust her enough to give him a actual blowjob one of these days, without fear that she'll bite. He wonders what kind of fucked up he is because he cums hard on the glass in front of her face.
She makes a noise of delight and licks the glass, moaning and panting as she comes on her fingers.
Thomas notices the glass is a bit foggy on her side. He watches as she slumps and sighs in contentment, enjoying the afterglow.
The look she gives him says that Thomas has started something that's potentially more dangerous than what they had before.. Oh well it's not like they didn't know they were fucked from the start..