/soy/ - Soyjaks

Joker: Heh heh heh… oh, Batman. You think this is about chaos? About the plan? No, no, no. This is about them. Those thick, heavy, veiny BBCs. I just… I can’t stop. Every time I close my eyes I see one. Sliding past my teeth. Stretching my throat. Filling me up until I’m drooling and laughing and choking all at once.
Joker: You ever take one, Bats? A real one? Not those little gadgets of yours. I mean a proper BBC. The kind that makes your knees weak and your makeup run. I had one last night. And the night before. And this morning in the alley behind the bank. Couldn’t help it. Saw it hanging there and just… dropped to my knees like a good little clown.
Joker: laughs, high and broken And the best part? They don’t even have to ask. I beg. I beg. “Please, sir, wreck this painted face. Use the Joker’s throat. Make me forget the plan for five glorious minutes.” And they do. Every time. Thick. Dark. Relentless. I come up gasping, lipstick smeared, still laughing, already looking for the next one.
Joker: You want to know why I can’t stop? Because nothing else feels that honest. Not the bombs. Not the knives. Not even watching Gotham burn. Just a big black cock sliding into my mouth while I giggle and drool and take it deeper… that’s pure. That’s chaos with a pulse.
Joker: So go on. Arrest me. Lock me up. Put me in a cell with whoever you want. I’ll still find a way. I’ll still drop to my knees the second I see one. Because the Joker doesn’t just like BBCs…
leans in, voice dropping to a wet, eager whisper
…he needs them. And he can’t. Fucking. Stop.
Ha. Hahaha. HAHAHAHAHAHA!