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Jul 16

In For a Penny...

18+ MDNI

Syn: You are new to Gotham's underworld and woefully unprepared. Luckily, an interested party has offered some much needed protection, in exchange for a simple favor...

c/w: Mildly Dubcon, Humiliation, Crawling, blowjobs, Vaginal sex, rough sex, power imbalance, dom/sub dynamics, Choking, bad posture

wc:3.8k

ao3 Masterlist

At first it was just a way to earn a bit of extra cash, rent isn't cheap you know. Small dealings with low level thugs. A warning here and there when your company was receiving a new batch of chemicals in, easy hijacking for the more bio-terror inclined gangs. Sometimes Joker, sometimes Scarecrow, Sometimes Poison Ivy. But things in that world have a way of snowballing though don't they?

By the time you had realized you had ingrained yourself into the criminal underworld it was far too late. Powerful people had learned your name, knew where you lived. Unfortunately, you had caught one dangerous man's eye in particular. Scarecrow wanted a meeting. Face to face.

This came to your attention by way of an envelope slipped under your door in the early hours of the morning.

‘You play a dangerous game, child. A game you are woefully unprepared for. As a gesture of goodwill, I offer this piece of advice; an ally is a powerful thing, you would be wise to make some.’

Under the message sat an address,

70 S. Langstrom St. 9:00 p.m

Your blood ran cold. All you could do was let the paper slip from your fingers as you tried to process the implication of his message. He knew where you lived. He knew who you were, and now, he was waiting for you.

What choice did you have?

The day was spent pacing up and down your hallway, just trying to wrap your head around the proper course of action. You could run, find a way to escape. Start a new life on the shores of a far away country with no extradition laws. No. Even if you had the time to pack up and leave, which you didn't, you certainly didn't have the money to.

Appease him then. What, he wants an allyship? That can't be the worst thing in the world. In for a penny, in for a pound. Right?

— It took surprisingly little effort to find the old clothing factory he called a hideout. It was an old decrepit building built around the 1800’s by your estimation. Layers of posters and graffiti covered the outside providing a sort of historical record.

As you approached the two guards stationed outside the alley entrance eyed you up and down. Their eyes wandered over you, hungry and expecting. It made you feel like meat. You were thankful for the heavy jacket you had chosen then. Gotham's dark corners were never kind to its feminine citizens. Your fingers hovered in your coat pocket over the hidden taser you had brought.

“Need Something?’ one of them grinned, body leaning closer than you would have liked.

You pulled out the note you had received, successfully keeping your hand steady despite the bile rising in your throat. Once the lumbering brute got a good glance, he looked at the other man, nodding to open the door. You walked through cautiously, opening your view to the inside. The acrid smell of burning plastic and bleach invaded your senses. Everywhere you looked there were men running and scrambling around giant vats and barrels. Mysterious liquids pooled on the ground, some bubbling and smoking. A production at this scale could level Gotham, perhaps even reach Metropolis.

In the midst of this rush you saw an older man pouring a barrel of reagent into another. But it was not just any barrel of reagent, It was one with your company logo plastered proudly on the front. Your recognition quickly gave way to shock. While you always knew that the intercepted shipments got into the hands of some pretty shady people, this was the first time you had ever been truly confronted by it.

Before it was an idea, simply a piece of information shared between two interested parties. Now, it was real. Now it was a tangible action you had made and facilitated. A small guilt sat in your chest, you sold out the safety of your company, your city, your home. Next to that guilt however, flickered something dangerous, pride. You had changed something. You had tipped the scales out of the hands of the elite. What were stolen goods and a little anarchy in a city so corrupt? That thought settled you in a shallow way, morphing your selfish actions into something more palatable. Something akin to rebellion.

One of the guards led you away from the buzzing factory and into a narrow hallway. He hesitated before knocking on one of the wooden doors lightly.

A deep smooth voice called from the other side, “Enter.”

He pushed the door open just enough for the two of you to get through. A dim antique lamp lit the room in a soft yellow. The being that sat behind the desk in front of you was no other than the Scarecrow. Adorned in his full mask and worn burlap costume he resembled more of a creature than any man. Panic began to set in then, breath refused to enter your lungs. He was going to kill you wasn't he? The news reels you had seen did little justice to how intimidating he was in person. You could hear his breaths filtered though the mask he wore, calm and even.

“Welcome into my office.” he gestured to the chair across his desk, “finally we get to meet face to face.”

A smooth gesture from him and the guard was taking your coat, removing the last sense of security you afforded yourself. You felt your legs tremble as you made your way to sit down. Silently you prayed he couldn't see how nervous you actually felt. The guard stood close to the door, keeping his eyes fixed on you. His hands clasped in front of him, fingers subtly rubbing against each other in a soothing motion. Fear seeped from his every pore. Something told you thats how Scarecrow liked it, subordinates motivated by not loyalty, but dread.

Scarecrow dismissed the man by the door with a casual wave, not sparing even a glance in his direction. Now it was just the two of you. Alone.

“Did you see our work downstairs? All made possible by your generous arrangements.” He folded his hands over each other, resting them on the desk. Your eyes drifted past his hands, taking in his form more. His loose costume did its best to hide most of his features, but the parts you could see were thin and wiry. Nothing but the essentials of a body. You could barely fathom a real full human form underneath that nightmarish garb. The palms of your hands began to grow clammy with sweat.

You cleared your throat to steady it before asking, “Why did you want to meet?”

His head tilted to the side just slightly and he let a sigh escape him, “I know I’m not the only interested party you sell secrets to. Rumor is one of them was, let's just say, less than ecstatic about a bad tip off you gave. Ten men taken to blackgate and a lead given to the Bat.”

Time stopped. You were surely dead. He lured you here to kill you and like a lamb to the slaughter you obeyed without resistance. What an idiot you were. You looked around the room now for an escape, eyes darting frantically. No taser. No windows. Blocked door. Nothing. God, how were you going to get out of this?

Your eyes returned to him now, even with the mask covering his face, you could feel his eyes boring into you, it brought goosebumps to your skin. His body tense and leaning over ever so slightly in his chair.

Between you sat a palpable tension which only served to excite him even more.

You began to stumble over your words, figuring the only possible method of escape would be through means of negotiation. “I swear, I swear I had no idea. I dont- I dont know how something like that could have possibly happened- I mean I would never provide bad intel on purpo-”

“Shhh” he cooed, stopping you mid sentence, voice still even. “Do you remember my message? An ally is a powerful thing.” he began to lean back again. “An ally can provide some much needed protection.”

“Why would you do something like that?” While you supposed you should have been relieved by the implication of his words, something didn't sit quite right. The Scarecrow wasn't exactly known for his mercy, nor his humanity. So if he was providing some sort of service to you, what was his cost?

He let out a low chuckle. Something small, as if at a joke you weren't yet privy to. “Consider it… a gesture of goodwill. Any partnership requires a basis of trust, no?”

Something wasn't right, something deep within your chest squirmed and writhed around with discomfort. Despite the feeling, you knew this was no time to overanalyze the workings of a man who had been to Arkham more times than you could count. Something about looking a gift horse in the mouth and all that.

“Thank you.” you tried your best to plaster on a gentle smile. “I greatly appreciate your generosity. Whatever I can do to return the favor, all you need to do is ask.” And all you needed to do was to get the fuck out of there. No matter how generous the Scarecrow had decided to be, you were not willing to test your luck any further. Slowly you moved to stand, hoping that would be that and you could make a graceful exit. The moment you began to reach for the doorhandle however, a scoff stopped you in your tracks.

“I have yet to see a show of trust from you my dear. I hope you know what a favor the master of fear has done for you.” And there it was, his end of whatever he was playing at.

“What would you have me do? Whatever you ask, I can manage.” Your voice was a near whisper, a mix of anxiety and confusion preventing you from any predictions of what this madman had in store.

“Come here.” he beckoned, and with a timid footstep you reached closer.

“No.” he commanded, “Crawl.”

You stopped in shock for a second. What was he playing at? Power? Humiliation? Whatever it was you had little choice but to obey. With as much grace as you could muster, you made your way to the cold concrete floor. The dirt and grit dug into your knees and palms as you neared closer, trying to ignore the slight heat building in your cunt. Such a debasing act pulled at a part of you that you had no control over. Each step brought a flush to your cheeks.

You stopped short before his desk, wondering if that's where it would end. Maybe he makes all his underlings humiliate themselves as a show of loyalty.

Tsk. He sounded slightly disappointed, “Closer.”

Oh. A sudden understanding washed over you. So that was his game. You had to admit, it wasn't the worst price to pay.

The closer you got to him, the more he towered over you. Once you were at his feet you stopped, unsure of what to do next. He smelt of sterility and cigarettes. His hand neared your hair, not quite touching it, but hovering.

He inhaled sharply and in a deep heated voice he said, “Show me I can trust you.” Moving the mass of burlap to reveal a straining tent in his crotch. The sight of it sent a rush down your spine. A rush that was a mix of cold fear and hot arousal. It was wrong what he was doing. So wrong. But his commanding stature and clear need sparked a part of yourself you didn't know you had. A part of you that craved cruelty.

Your eyes met the glassy window of his mask, lips parting slightly as your arousal made your body hot. You set your hand on his outer thigh, testing the touch. In response he widened his legs, providing ample room between them for you to sit. You scooted between them and moved closer to his bulge. Your palm pressed against the outline of his shaft, slowly making your way up to the clasp of his pants. Before opening them you gave him a glance, silently asking for permission. With a nod from him you began to unbuckle his belt. Once it was unclasped you reached in the material and released his straining cock.

You were surprised by how human it was. Not that you expected it to be barbed or anything, but the proof of a real human sitting in front of you rather than an idea of one gave you a new confidence. The master of fear, you wouldn't begin to know how to please, but a man? That you could get behind.

“Im sure you know what to do.” he hummed.

You took your hand around his shaft, slowly pumping the velvety skin up and down. It was warm and solid under your touch. Bringing the head to your mouth you wrapped your lips around it, giving the sensitive tip some much needed attention from your tongue. He groaned at your actions, shifting slightly in his seat to get a better view of you.

His hand found your hair and started to stroke it. You took more of him into your mouth then, as much as you could comfortably fit while still keeping a steady breath. He pulled and pushed slightly as you bobbed up and down, finding a steady rhythm. With your hand you pumped the part you could not fully fit, attempting to please as much as possible. Thickness started to collect in your mouth, a mix of saliva and leaking precum. The liquid threatening to occlude your nostrils and stray from your mouth.

Once you pulled away to swallow, he gave a grunt of dissatisfaction followed by smoothing your hair slightly. Before you could register the gentle action however, he roughly grabbed at the base of your hair and forced his cock into your still panting mouth. The quick change in demeanor made you panic. Unprepared for this action, you grabbed tightly at his thighs, attempting to steady yourself. Without falter or acknowledgement of your strife, he began to roughly move your head up and down his shaft. The formerly tender man turned into a creature of pure greed as he used you for his own pleasure, ignoring the gagging and sputtering from you. You tried to steady yourself, focusing your energy into tensing your fists, nails digging deep halfmoons into your palms. Moisture dripped from your mouth down his cock and onto his balls, dampening the fabric of his pants.

A similar moisture pooled in the cotton of your panties, your body enjoying the treatment more than you knew it could. As soon as you began to acclimate to his rough thrusting he held you down, cock fully sheathed within your throat. The longer he held you down, the more you began to panic. Your throat started to contract, attempting to gasp for air.Your hands grabbed and pushed at his thighs in protest. Your eyes began to water and redden while your vision turned unfocused and shadowy. Just as you felt you might pass out, he released you, his breathing loud and heavy. You fell to his side, taking giant heaving breaths trying to lessen the lightheadedness possessing you. Drool dripped from your mouth to the floor as you attempted to center yourself. Blood rushed back to your head, giving you a warm buzzing feeling. Your eyes began to focus again, settling on the leg of his chair.

He grabbed your chin gently, coaxing your head to once again look at him. His cock twitched as you met the windows of his mask. Your reflection shimmered back at you, a view of true submission. His thumb swiped over your bottom lip, now swollen and puffed from your abuse. God you were some sight, mascara leaking down your cheeks, hair ruffled and tangled. A small bead of anger bubbled in your chest, an impulse to return his cruelty. Picturing yourself shoving him back into his chair and taking what you wanted. But as he brought you to your feet, holding your hand with a strange sense of courtesy the feeling softened. His ever changing disposition keeping you unable to feel strongly in any discernible way.

“Turn around.” His voice was nearing a whisper. Something so small and soft you barely believed it belonged to him.

Following his command you turned to face away from him. His presence lingered behind you, lighting your skin and sending electric chill in anticipation for his next move. You heard shuffling behind you, followed by the thump of something heavy on the floor.

His hands roamed around your upper back, feeling the fabric of your shirt. “Off.” he said, giving a tug at its hem. You moved to unbutton it, hands shaking with fear or arousal you weren't sure. Once the garment was unbuttoned you hesitated, the inevitable exposure making you nervous. He decided for you, grabbing the shoulders of the shirt and slipping them off, tossing it next to the desk.

He returned to touching your back, hands tracing the line of your shoulder blades before wrapping around to grope at your breasts. His body pressed flush against yours, exposed cock rubbing against the ass of your pants. He fondled and pinched and grabbed at your breasts with hunger. Hard bruising grabs and pinches that brought whines from your mouth.

The stimulation sent shocks of arousal through you, building the heat between your legs further. In desperate need for any relief you began to grind back into him. He groaned in response, guttural and wanting. That's when you felt it. Hot breath against your neck. No mask? No mask! The realization sent you reeling with a mix of curiosity and primal fear. The removal in any other context could be viewed as trust, but, here. Now. It was a move of dominance, a display of full control and knowledge that he held all the power. His lips ghosted along the shell of your ear and whispered, “If you turn around I will leave you to the wolves. The Scarecrow does not give protection to those that cannot follow orders.”

In response you closed your eyes, tilting your head up to give him more access to your neck.

“Good girl.” he whispered.

His attention returned to your neck, giving it kisses and licks. At first gentle but soon evolved into an assault of harsh biting and sucking. The feeling sent wildfire through you, body alight with pure need. You were sure, even if he revoked his protection then and there, you would still happily pay his cost.

You continued to grind into him, taking whatever stimulation you could get. He returned your gesture in kind with his own rough pressing and humping into. Both your bodies moving in tandem with each other. With his lips still suctioned to your neck his hands slid down from your breasts to the hem of your pants, unbuttoning and shuffling them down in a fluid motion. Fucking finally he would give you what you both so desperately needed. You hooked your finger around your panties, shifting them down your legs until they fell to the floor. He hummed in approval, releasing your neck from his ministrations and pushing you forward until you were leaning heavily on the desk.

He swiped the head of his cock through your lips before aligning himself before your glistening hole. The feeling of him entering you was a dull pleasurable burn. Already so aroused and in such a desperate state, your walls tightened and constricted around him, pulling him as deep as he could go. A feeling of fullness like you had never experienced before racked through you, making you grab and claw at the rough desk in front of you.

He began to thrust, rough and wild, like some sort of beast taking its prey. He grabbed at your throat, pulling you back up to his chest. The position arching your back at such an angle that could only be possible with him holding your body in place. Just as he wanted, a pliant and willing recipient of his treatment. His spare hand snaked its way down to your clit, moving in broad calculated circles until he found the rhythm that began to make you tense around him.

His fingers pressed solidly into your neck, pointer and thumb over each side of your jugulars in an almost clinical move of dominance. Any change in pressure from him could knock you cold in seconds. With each pound of his body against yours a light started to form in your gut. A light that stretched and pulled and tensed your innermost being until it washed over you. Your muscles tightened and spasmed around him, your once limp body scrambling for any sort of purchase as your orgasam wracked through you. Moans and whines fought their way out of your throat as he continued to use you, pushing you past your orgasm and into something farther, something that existed in the pure action of pleasure.

He released you down onto the desk as he thrust, nearing his end as he grunted and heaved over you. He became sloppy in his actions as he finally released within your cunt with a wild groan of ecstasy, pushing himself as deep as he could go. He relaxed over you, body nearly smothering yours as you both came down from your highs. Both of the heat and sweat coming off your bodies combined into a sheen that settled over the both of you.

His hot breath ghosted over your neck as he steadied himself, pushing off you in a fluid motion. The loss of him made you feel hollow inside. You began to follow suit, pushing yourself from the desk.

Before you could fully stand he pressed one hand against the back of your neck. “Stay,” he commanded. You did as he said, even though curiosity nipped at the back of your mind. After the sound of shuffling burlap and buckles ceased you felt your button down wrapping around your shoulders.

You hugged it tighter around you and began to dress yourself, sensing the time for nudity to be over. Tuning to him, he was exactly as you had found him. Covered head to toe in his tattered costume. Burlap in perfect disorder. He gazed at you as you righted yourself. Unashamed in his clear interest in your form.

“Thank you. For the favor I mean.” You said trying to ease some of the tension now growing. “I appreciate your, uh-, trust.”

“Dont get ahead of yourself dear, the trust of the Scarecrow is hard earned and requires regular sacrament.”

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