Doctor Quinzel’s Prescription For Good Behavior

I was laughing for a long time. I couldn’t help it. I was going crazy. This world was crazy. The doctor just stared at me and took notes. It was then I noticed something. I had freed myself from the straightjacket. That’s weird. How did I do that?

The doctor was startled at this, “Please put that thing back on.”

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“As I said before, you know my name. I’m the Doctor here assigned to you. Doctor Harleen Quinzel,” She explained adjusting her glasses.

“Harleen Quinzel… like Harley Quinn?” I asked.

“Like the clown character Harlequin? You aren’t the first to make that observation,” She said and sighed, like hearing an old joke for the 100th time.

She thought I meant Harlequin and not Harley Quinn, the eventual pseudonym she’ll take later.

“Don’t you fall in love with me?” I asked. I wasn’t too sure. Who did Harley Quinn love? I wasn’t too versed on my DC comics knowledge.

At that, she reddened. “W-What… Whatever are you talking about?”

I shrugged and examined my cell. I could see one padded corner which looked off. This must be where I, or at least the other me could escape.

“Please stay still while I put on your straightjacket again. It’s for your own safety and mine,” Doctor Quinzel said and approached me.

“I don’t want to. It’s fucking uncomfortable,” I said.

She reached into her coat for a dart gun and shot me with it. I peered at my thigh, which had a syringe sticking out. I didn’t feel sleepy or tranquilized, but I couldn’t move my body.

“Since you won’t behave and keep escaping your cell somehow you will have to be disciplined,” Doctor Quinzel said in a stern voice.

“I c-can’t move, I feel paralyzed,” I said. “What did you do to me?”

“This is one of Doctor Crane’s concoction. It helps us deal with restless patients such as yourself.” Doctor Quinzel explained. “Now stay quiet while I administer your punishment.”

Doctor Quinzel licked her lips and tore away my pants. She held onto my soft cock and stroked it gently, she adjusted her glasses and stared at me, flush in her cheeks, and spoke, “Even though you won’t be able to move, you will still feel how good this feels. You will regret all the trouble you put me through the past few days.”

It was happening again. I was punished in this place the same way I was punished in the last. I let out deep breaths as Harleen, Doctor Quinzel, moved her head down and took my cock into her mouth. Her blue eyes behind her glasses gazed up at me grudgingly as she sealed her lips around the shaft of my cock and bobbed her head up and down. With one hand on the base of my cock keeping it in place she started maintained a steady pace, her head moved up and down, and she closed her eyes. I couldn’t move at all during this, my natural instinct to reach for the back of her head and shove it deep into her esophagus and make her gag on it. Instead, I just panted and watch her work on it. Her “Mmms” filled, and slurping filled the silent cell with music.

“Okay, time for your real punishment,” she said, letting go of my cock.

Doctor Quinzel moved my frozen body flat down and climbed on top. Harleen hiked up her skirt and parted her black panties. Squatting over my erect dick, she guided it with her hands into her cunt and began her motions on it.

“Oh god,” she panted. “You are much larger than before somehow.”

We did this before?

“And you’re fucking sopping my dear,” I said. I realized I didn’t sound like myself. “Let’s be honest. You were waiting for the whole day to punish me weren’t you?”

Harleen looked down at my huge cock entering her small body, and she looked back up and rolled her eyes, letting hissing whimpers out, her face contorted in ecstasy. “Oh Mister J, you are tearing in my two.”

Mister J? Her composure was slipping. My dick was disrupting her professional attitude. Harleen ground on me and gritted her teeth and closed her eyes every time my full length disappeared into her cunt. She let out “Oh God’s” every time. Her tongue didn’t know what to do with itself, dropping everywhere and her speech slurred.

“You really like my cock that much don’t you?” I asked.

“My cunt is yours Mister J. My cunt is- OHHH god,” she moaned and assaulted her body against mine with ferocity. She looked like she was riding a bull at this point and kept moving her hips feverously on top of me. Her hands reached down towards her clit and rubbed with the same intensity. Her legs quivered and hips quacked and she let out intense screams. “OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK.”

I wanted to reach down but was frozen there as she spasmed on top of me. I let out more soft moans and after a moment to compose herself out of her pure lust she resumed moving her hips up and down again.

“You know if you wanted to punish me you didn’t need to freeze me slut,” I said.

“I can’t… I can’t fucking think Mistah J. Your dick is driving me crazy,” Her composed academic voice earlier in Doctor Quinzel mode was dissipating into a New Jersey accent. “Your dick is… Oh god.”

Her eyes rolled, again and again, she moved her hips frantically on top of me. I was close as well. My loins felt hot, and my whole body wanted to work and writhe. Her wet cunt was still sliding up and down my shaft as my balls emptied. My dick erupted my seed deep in her cunt as she kept moving. Soon the shaft was painted with my cream and her juice. As she felt the hot liquid pour into her, she slowed down and caught her breath and regained her clarity. With one deep sigh, she pulled herself out and took me in her mouth, and her tongue lapped out all of our essences and cleaned me off. Harleen kissed it and pulled my pants back up and got back up. She composed herself and straightened out her clothes.

“I’ll be back if you’re willing to open up, don’t try to escape here or you are just going to get caught and punished again.” Doctor Quinzel said adjusting her glasses, her tone and accent returned to the neutral clinical one she had at the start. She left me in the cell alone and walked out funny.

After maybe an hour, the effects of the serum wore off. I went towards the square of the padded cell that looked off and moved it. I made my escape from Arkham Asylum through vents and a sewer system and was on a riverbed. A purple 1978 Dodge 3700 GT was nearby, and it was unlocked.

I got in and drove. The night was young. I planned to wreak havoc on Gotham. Who knows, maybe Batwoman or Barbara Gordon or Catwoman or Supergirl would come and stop me. One could only hope.