"Do-don't **** me," Lois said, her eyes going wide. A weird, terrible excitement swept through her body. She shrank against the grimy wall of the alley, something trickling down her legs, breath catching in her throat.

The reporter felt like the principal victim in a horror movie. The poor slut who was always first under the knife. Scarecrow seemed to loom above her, the mask distorting in her vision, strangely inhuman. She wondered what his cock would feel like if it slipped in. If he was too rough it would hurt...maybe she would bleed...and her nipples were hard as rocks, simultaneously aroused and terrified at the thought.

"Interesting," he rumbled. The dark patches that hid his eyes seemed to consume her vision. "You seem to have both an acute phobia and paraphilia associated with sexual ****..."

One gloved hand stroked the reporter's crotch...and then turned and gripped it hard. Lois nearly exploded in her pants, pussy clamping down tight on the bottle.

"Ugh! No, please. It...it hurts!"

The masked head cocked to the side.

"I haven't hurt you...yet..." He pressed harder, gloved finger tapping against the base of the bottle. "Ah, I see. You have a secret."

One hand was suddenly on her neck. Blue-green smoke filtered out of hidden ports in his sleeve, enveloping the reporter's face.

"Why don't you take off your pants." He said, strange acoustic tricks going on with his voice. There were odd echoes in it, frequencies not normally associated with the human voice that seemed to reach past her ears and pull levers in her brain. The voice a **** might have in her nightmares...or wet dreams...

Her hands fell to her pants. She tugged them down her thighs, felt the cold bit of the air on her crotch.

Why am I doing this? She asked herself, then shivered as she felt the goosebumps rise on her skin, every nerve on edge, face flushed. A car drove by on the street. Lois paused, pants around her knees, as though her heart would stop.

The Scarecrow's fingers reached between her thighs. Thumb and forefinger locked on the bottle that Lois had stolen. She bit her lip to avoid crying out as he twisted and pulled, tearing the bottle from her pussy. Held it up to the light to examine it.

"You are a fascinating patient," he said after a moment, voice cold and clinical. "I think this calls for...further investigation."