marlowemuses | Fear and Adrenaline, for doctor

Ashley moaned with pleasure, happily melting into the feeling of being toyed with. His heart was still fluttering with fear and nerves, but he rolled his hips eagerly up into the teasing, greedy for more.

Shivering at the lick, Ashley giggled breathlessly. His skin tingled, gooseflesh rising on his arms and legs. "What do I call you, monster?"

Crane looked up at Ashley. "For now, you may simply call me Scarecrow." No need to let him know right away that he was the doctor he'd blown off earlier.

He trust the plug in a little faster, his pants becoming even tighter. "You want my cock, don't you, lovely?"

"Yes, please," Ashley begged, utterly shameless about his desires. He spread his legs wide in invitation, whimpering with yearning. His body thrummed with arousal, shivering with fear and desire at the promise of his nightmare come true.

Scarecrow removed the plug before unzipping his pants and bringing out his cock. He used the lubricant to slick himself up and position himself between Ashley's legs.

"You belong to me, now," He whispered as he pushed into the younger man's body.

Ashley gave a soft little cry as Scarecrow breached him. Straining against the cuffs, he tightened his legs on either side of Scarecrow's hips, rolling his body up to meet his new lover. "Yes, monster," he murmured, biting down on his own lip as he sought more contact, more pleasure.

Scarecrow started slowly, but in no time he quickened his pace, penetrating him as deeply as he could, and gripping his body on either side of his waist.

Crane could barely remember the first time he'd had sex, or the last time, but he was pretty sure it had never felt this good. Ashley's lust and fear gave it that extra edge, as did his submission.

Ashley whimpered and trembled beneath him, breath catching with each thrust. He felt dizzy with fear and pleasure, and it built fast, overwhelming him. "Scarecrow," he gasped, half begging, as the harder thrusts sent building waves of pleasure through him that crashed and made him buck and cry out.

Crane smirked, reaching between them to stroke the younger man's cock. Inexperienced as he was, he was aware that this had to be stimulated too.

"So beautiful, so vulnerable," Scarecrow whispered. "You enjoy this. The feeling of being taken by one such as me. Fear mixed with bliss." He gave another sharper thrust for emphasis, unable to hold back a moan of his own.

"Yes, monster," Ashley promised. He tugged at the restraints on his wrists, feeling exquisitely trapped and taken by the most frightening monster he could have imagined. The hand on his cock gave him just the edge he needed, and he spilled himself, crying out as hot threads of come spilled across the flawless white skin of his belly and chest. "Scarecrow!"

Crane released a low moan of bliss as the younger man tightened around him, which triggered his own climax and caused him to spill inside Ashley. "Yes..."

With a few final thrusts, Scarecrow withdrew. "Not how I was planning to spend my evening, but I must admit, I'm not sorry it did." He reached up to release the handcuffs and free his lover.

Ashley sat up, curling his legs under himself and rubbing at his wrists. He watched Scarecrow through his lashes, letting his long red hair fall forward over his shoulder, coy but guarded. "Will you come to me again?"

"I would say chances are white high, pretty one," Scarecrow promised, running a finger down his cheek. "Think of me as a reoccurring nightmare." He then pulled away to tuck himself back in and stand up to gather his vest and glove.

Ashley smiled at him, grabbing a tissue to clean between his legs and then curling under the covers to rest and recover. He watched Scarecrow with one eye, still entirely fascinated by his monster, his new lover.

"Until next time, my pretty one," Scarecrow promised, climbing back out the window. On the walk home, he thought it over and made up his mind. He would keep Ashley. Even if it backfired on him and he had to move again, the young noble would prove an interesting distraction.

The next morning, Dr. Crane returned to the mansion with an expensive bottle of wine, having checked online the night before to see which brands were favorably reviewed. He apologized for having to leave the party early last night, and asked if he could see the youngest son. After their conversation at the party, he could tell that Ashley could use a moment of Crane's time, and he would determine what to do with the boy.

Of course, no matter what the boy's mental health was like, Crane had a plan in place. Talking to Ashley was just a little formality.

Edited 2016-09-30 17:23 (UTC)

Ashley's mother was pleased by the gift and flattered by his interest in her son. She cared relatively little as to whether the interest was professional, personal, or sexual--in any case, Dr. Crane's company was a great improvement upon the drug-addled artists and similarly spoiled young socialites who usually dominated Ashley's time.

Sleepy and petulant about being dragged downstairs to converse with the irritating psychologist from the party, Ashley dropped himself into a chair and demanded breakfast from a passing servant. Glaring irritably at the doctor, Ashley rested his head on his arms. "Any trips to the bayou lately, doctor?" he asked, intentionally cutting. "Louisiana has such a lot of large reptiles."

Crane pursed his lips but chose not to take the bait. Rather ironic, he thought, how Ashley was unaware that he was speaking to the very creature who had visited him last night.

"So I'm aware," Crane deadpanned, sipping on a mug of coffee he'd been brought. "But for now I'm just want to speak with you. Do you ever feel... unusual when compared to others? You looked at me as if I had two heads last night."

Ashley laughed, sharp with petulance and cruelty. A servant brought him a cappuccino, and Ashley trailed his fingertip through the white foam on top. "Do I ever feel unusual? I'm frivolous, Mr. Crane," he paused to give the doctor a bland, fake smile, in case there was any doubt about the mistake in title being intentional, "not stupid. I'm remarkably unusual, all of which ought to be obvious even to someone as obtuse as you are. I'm too wealthy, too beautiful, and far too macabre to be normal."

Crane wanted to tell Ashley that he counted himself lucky he wasn't dealing with the likes of the other rogues from Gotham. But he had an image and secret identity to maintain.

"Clearly, not stupid," Crane's tone didn't change once, keeping professional. "Clearly not well either. I think your mother would agree with me that you need some serious help once I'm done speaking with her after our little talk."

Ashley's face fell, nervous fear flickering through his eyes at the prospect. He didn't like the suggestion that there was something wrong with him, and he certainly didn't like the prospect of having anything about his personality changed. Particularly not at the hands of the unpleasant psychologist in front of him. "I don't need or want any help from you, Mr. Crane."

Rising to his feet, Ashley lifted his chin, lovely and proud. "I don't know whether you're interested in my beauty or my parents' money, but you'll just have to find some other client or victim for your services. Get out."

Crane set his coffee aside and stood up as well. He wasn't very tall, but he did his best to look imposing.

"How about this then? Either you agree to my terms, or I have you shipped off to an out-of-state bedlam house with one of the worst track records in patient wellness on the Eastern Seaboard. Play along, and you'll at least be treated well." In truth, Arkham had long been abandoned for over a year, but he needed a way to scare Ashley.

"What terms?" Ashley demanded. He glared angrily, trying to hide the way his heart was pounding in terror at the possibility that he might be able to make good on his threat. "You think my parents are really going to fall for anything as stupid as your threats? They adore me. There's nothing wrong with me."

"It's quite simple, really," Crane replied. "I convince your mother that you need help, and you come to live with me for a while. I don't have servants and my house is not as large as this, but it is comfortable and your mother and father will be allowed to send you an allowance. Just know that running away will have severe consequences."

He inched closer, until Ashley could almost feel his breath. "So, what is it going to be? Relative comfort and safety, or a place where they serve you stale bread and microwaved soup for lunch?"

Ashley glared furiously at the doctor, cheeks flushed with anger and fear. "I have very dangerous friends, Mr. Crane. They will find me, anywhere you try to take me, and they will eviscerate you for the trouble. Get out now and we won't have to see about making you find out all your pitiful fears."

Crane smirked, having some idea of who Ashley was talking about. "I'm not afraid of them. It isn't as if you have a choice here anyway. You'll find that I can be very persuasive."

He left Ashley for now, tracking down his mother. It was just as he feared, he told her. Her son needed his help, and it would require constant attention. Ashley would have to live with him for a while, but he was feeling so generous that he would only charge for actual sessions in his in-home office and not every hour Ashley spent in his house. There really was no other option, he feared.

Once that was over, Crane left the mansion, saying that they could send him Ashley at their leisure.

Ashley threw a fit. He accused Crane of everything true, and a few melodramatic suspicions, including rape. His mother was furious that Ashley would say such slander against an upstanding and reputable doctor of such high renown. His father warmed very quickly to the idea as similar to a boarding school, since Ashley was too old for boarding school and could not be convinced to enroll in college, and thought that the discipline would be just what Ashley needed. They were both very pleased that their son might be the subject of a scientific study--"it could save lives!" "he means to rape me, are you not listening?"--and, better, that their wayward and effeminate son might be improved into a more upstanding young gentleman.

No amount of yelling or tears would sway them, and Ashley's hysterics only served to further convince his parents that the doctor's suggestion was all for the best. His bags were packed and Ashley was guarded, until he could be packed into a car and sent away to his fate.

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