Lap Dance

"You're late."
You turned around slowly, blood-red lipstick still in your hand. The joker stood in the doorway of your dressing room, in the back of a highly established club, of which he managed.
He looked menacing in the doorway, his hands crossed on his cane, his blue eyes locked on you with a frightening stare. Except you weren't frightened, you were crazy.
"And you're cute when you brood, Mistah J." You laughed and turned back to your dressing room mirror. You could still see Joker behind you, glaring, as you finished applying your lipstick.
You were due to perform at least half an hour ago, if not more. But you had been in a very highly established club and were getting lucky with aces, so you decided to go easy on punctuality tonight.
Joker was still staring at you, "oh c'mon Mistah J, stop looking at me like that. Or keep looking at me like that, I think I like it." You giggled as you let your bare leg slip out of the slit in your gold dress. You traced lazy circles on the ground with the points of your toes and stared unflinchingly right back into Joker's eyes.
He took a threatening step toward you, then another. He wasn't too far from you, within reaching distance, when he said "I don't like it when you're late, Dollface,"
You pushed off your vanity and closed the distance between you two, "oh, Mistah J," you said, reaching up to cup his cheek. He leaned into the gesture, rolling his eyes back and purring into your hand. He wanted you to grovel, apologise, beg for forgiveness, "I don't care." You said.
He snapped his head up then. He was furious. You revelled in it.
He pushed you back against the dressing vanity, "you think you can play with me, Dollface?"
You threw your head back and laughed, arching your back so your plunging neckline was staring J in the face. He purred again and dropped his face between your breasts, bracing himself against the dressing table while the other gripped the small of your back and travelled down across your ass, to the back of your thigh and back up again. You dragged a hand through his hair, forcing him to look up at you.
"You know I can." You whispered.
He laughed manically, "you drive me craaaaaaazyyyyyy, Dollface, all that swagger's gonna get you-"
You tugged on his hair and flipped the two of you. He was now pressed against the dressing table, his hand still at your back. You placed a knee between his legs, one hand on his chest, one fisted in his hair.
"Am I gonna get hurt, Mistah J? Are your gonna hurt me?" You threw your head back again and cackled as you watched his expression develop from surprise to anger, to somewhere between admiration, fury and lust.
"Awwww puddin', I don't drive you crazy," you leaned in, pressing your body against his as you touched your lips to his, but didn't kiss him, "I drive you INSANE!" You screamed against his mouth.
He growled, rather than purred, at this and smashed his lips onto yours. You laughed into the kiss as he picked you up and sat you down on the dressing table. You wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing him closer as you undid his tie and pouted.
"Now I'm gonna be super late, d'you want me to miss my show, Mistah J?"
He buried his head in the crook of your neck and kissed, "I want you to give me a show, Dollface,"
You chuckled, "see, the thing is, puddin'," you said, as his kisses dragged lower, to the top of your breast, "I ain't your toy," his kisses hesitated, briefly, "I'm your challenge."
You smiled wickedly as you pushed him off of you and sauntered from the room.

You swayed up the steps to your golden dancing cage, smiling at the crowd, catching the eye of a few wealthy and dangerous men. A chair of dark wood and gilded gold sat in the middle of the cage. You took your time as you sat in it, it was luxurious, expensive, but nothing too flashy. Nonetheless, you sat like a Queen, the chair your throne, the ogling crowd your subjects. And directly across from you, in his own throne, was the Clown King. You smiled at him sweetly before tipping your head back, rolling your neck, drinking in the music, letting the vibrations reverberate deep into your bones, your very being. The first beat hit and you looked up again, right into J's piercing blue eyes. Usually when you performed, it was for him more so than it was for anyone else in the room, and you'd choose the best or most expensive looking man the club had to offer. But tonight you decided it was his turn to perform right alongside you. You'd give him a show alright, he'd be the show. The thought of playing with him on stage fizzled in your belly as you stalked towards him, a determined grin on your face. You curtseyed as you came to a stop in front of him, the crowd's eyes glued to the two of you. Though you were bowing to him, as you straightened you held all the power, you saw it in his eyes that he was intimidated. Not frightened but...he'd finally met his match. Someone to threaten his title as the most ruthless man in Gotham. Despite the fact that you worked for him.
You held your hand out to him, your wrist swathed in gold and crystal, "care to dance, my King?" You knew he liked the title.
He studied your hand, expressionless, for a moment and then glanced up into your mischievous eyes. "Anything for you, Dollface." He grinned manically as he took your hand and pulled you toward him, placing his free hand on the small of your back.
You took the stance as an oppertunity and gracefully waltzed the two of you back to the cage while the steady hum of the music stayed pleasant. A delicate melody played as you two danced and twirled innocently. As the build up to the crescendo of the music began you held one of his hands above you, placed one at your hip and shimmied back into his chest. You turned your face into his neck. To the crowd it looked like a lustful gesture, part of the performance as you pecked his neck, but as you reached his ear you tightened his hand around the fabric of the dress and your waist and whispered, all while shimmying and grinding against him, "when the beat drops, rip."
You then pushed off him, keeping his hands in place as you twirled once, twice, thrice.
Then the build up of the wonderful music finally crashed down in a wonderful wave of ecstasy that you felt thrum through your body and mind as J ripped your dress from your body. You stood there in a winner's stance, swathed in lingerie made from gold and diamonds.

The crowd roared, and you swayed your hips as you looked to your King.
"Ohhhhh," he growled as he came toward you, silver teeth flashing in a brilliant grin, "you do not disappoint, Dollface,"
You smiled as you ran your hand through your hair seductively and spun so his chest slammed into your back. You let his hands roll over the crystals and the bare skin beneath.
"While I am a fan of this wonderful, wonderful garment," his gravelly voice whispered in your ear as you danced, "I'd like it a lot better on the floor, Dollface."
You threw your head back and laughed, truly enjoying yourself as you turned into his neck once again and said, "call me y/n."
You then bent over and ground against his crotch. This made the crowd (and him) go crazy, they cheered and threw dollar bills, single roses, even someone's lace panties.
As the second beat drop approached you straightened, spun, and threw J down onto the chair you previously sat on. While the thrum of the music continued, you tied his hands to the chair with the gold chains around your wrists.
He laughed dangerously, "you're pushin' it now, baby. Joker doesn't like to be made a toy from his toys,"
"Awwww puddin," you bit out through gritted teeth as you pulled the chair he sat on toward you with surprising force, "good thing I ain't ya toy then, huh?"
He growled less than playfully as you danced on his lap, throwing your head back and swaying your hips, gently touching his hard crotch with your ass, teasing him. He groaned in frustration and pleasure throughout it all, and you laughed to yourself. You were making a fool of the Clown King in front of his very own court. You swung your leg around his hips, straddling him as you began to make slow circles with your hips, he groaned again and stared, unwaveringly, into your eyes.
"You're gonna pay for this, Dollface."
You laughed at the threat. The thing that made you special to the Joker was that no matter how much he tried, he couldn't break you. You were not a spirit to be broken. You matched him, his equal in every dark and twisted way.
As the final beat drop built up inside and around you, you caressed J's exposed throat, "J, d'you remember what I asked?" You said, feigning an innocent stare, of which he willingly bought.
"Do I what?" It seemed hard for him to focus on what you were saying, as he was more so focused on what you were doing.
You smiled and kissed his throat as the build up began to quickly reach its peak, "I said," you whispered against his neck, waiting for that final plummet of the wonderful music.
And as the beat plummeted, you moved your hand up to his jaw and snapped his face to come millimetres from yours. Through clenched teeth you said, "call me y/n."
And then you kissed him hard on his red lips as the crowd erupted in euphoria and cheers. A performance they, and the Clown King, would surely not forget.