Chapter One: A Chilling Introduction
Being captured by the Penguin was not a good thing. Even though little Harley had never met anyone who talked about their experiences as his captive, she knew this very well. While running in Joker's gang, she had met those that had been captured by Two-Face, Poison Ivy, and Black Mask... But not the Penguin. He was a business man, putting a price on everything and everyone, and the worth of anyone unlucky enough to end up in his care seemed to never be worth the expense of keeping them alive or the risk of letting them live.
So bad thing, right off, which is why it was curious that after getting hit by the knockout gas, she'd woken up in a big, fluffy bed, done up in a familiar red, white, and black checkered pattern, in a spacious room with its own amoir, nightstand, and full-length standing mirror. It didn't seem entirely harmless-the wall was painted a light pink, but it was clearly solid concrete, and the floor did have shag carpeting, but it looked new.
She didn't have much time to have a closer look at the room though, because before she could get the sleepiness out of her eyes and mind, the single door opened and in stepped a slut. Well, Harley didn't know she was a slut, but she was dressed up like a bunny girl and those heels couldn't be comfortable and those breasts couldn't be real. Definitely a slut. She came right up to the bed with a bit of black and white clothing in her arms.
"Good morning. Now that you're up, Mr. Cobblepot will be expecting you soon. So if you'll just get dressed and come with me, that would be just delightful~" Her voice was bubbly and professional at the same time, as well as being completely relaxed, as though preparing child supervillains to meet her employer was completely normal.
It was just then that Harley realized that she was naked, her hair loose around her shoulders, and not even that comforting feeling of heavy makeup on her face, so Harley pulled a pillow close to her body to hide her tiny nine year old form from the whore before speaking, "Cobblepot? What's Penguin want from me?! Unless it's a damn punch in the face, I'm not speaking to him at all! Gimme my clothes! It's freezing in here..." Harley pulled the outfit on quickly, but to her shock there were no pants. Just some slutty underwear and a French maid dress that barely covered anything, not that there was much to show off on Harley's tiny body, but none the less she felt more than a little uncomfortable in it. "Goddamn Penguin! This better be quick!"
The whore calmly and wryly withstood Harley's outbursts and seemed satisfied as long as she was obeying. As soon as she was finished dressing into the skirt though, she spoke again, "One more thing. The floor is more than a bit cold in his study, so Mr. Cobblepot has provided these."
She went to the armoire and pulled out a pair of shiny high heels. They weren't nearly as outrageous as her own, but they seemed to have at least a three-inch heel. Along with the heels came a pair of stockings with a garter belt, "If you need any help getting dressed, it would be my pleasure." She recited as though reading from a script.
Harley stared at the huge heeled shoes. Apparently Oswald liked being the shortest man in the room. "I ain't wearin' those." Instead she took the stockings and pulled them up quickly. "Take me to the little worm. He's just beggin' for a fight."
Instead of doing just that, she gave Harley a toothy smile, "Mr. Cobblepot told me to be persuasive should you prove reluctant."
And then she moved Batman fast. Not as fast as the Batman, surely. She was just a Hench goon! But even so, before Harley could even finish pulling up the stockings, the whore had closed the gap between the two of them in two quick steps, snaked out an arm that snatched her loose hair, and used that grip to throw her off the bed and into the wall. Yep. Definitely concrete.
Rather than take the time to talk and gloat, she was moving in while Harley was still dazed after being thrown. The whore's hand against Harley's throat pinned her to the wall, while the slut's other hand made Harley's cheeks blister red with repeated forehand and backhand slaps. Something about the control and precision with the way she did it made it very clear that she was letting Harley keep her teeth with each slap, but could change her mind at any moment. Harley groaned with the violent assault, each slap eliciting a yelp. After a long flurry, she waited for Harley to breathe out, and then abruptly drove her fist into her solar plexus. If the rest was painful, this was torture, her stomach crying out in agony as her lungs screamed for her to breath but not having the strength or wherewithal to do so. It was stunning and incapacitating, enough that she didn't just have time to slip the shoes on for her, but she was just finishing putting her hair into two extra puffy pigtails as her recovered.
"Now then, you're looking delightful. Are her ready to meet Mr. Cobblepot, or will I need to persuade you?"
Harley took a moment to catch her breath, before she climbed to her feet, wobbling on the shoes as she took a step forward. She almost tripped several times as Harley made her way to the door beside the slut. "I'll behave... For now.." She mumbled and hoped the woman wouldn't walk too fast towards Cobblepot's office.
Back to the very picture of an young teenager's wet dream, not a hair out of place, the woman got the door for her, smiling, "Good girl. This way then."
She had Harley walk in front of her, and calm demeanour or no, she could practically feel the daggers of her eyes on her back. Outside of the room was a narrow hallway, lined with more doors, each as solid and soundproof as hers had been. There were cameras intermittently, as well as strange holes in the ceiling. Some were to drop solid steel bars for a lockdown should any try to escape, while others would release gas, either knockout or simply knock dead. At the end of the hallway was a steel door Harley's guardian unlocked with a handprint, followed by a winding staircase that gave her a very, very poor opinion on Penguin's taste in shoes. Two flights were ignored, but they took the door at the third, another short walk through a much wider hallway this time, and then one big ass double door, "Please remember to be on your best behaviour." She simply said, then opened the door for her.
Harley snickered at her remark and waited until the doors shut behind her. The lady silently locked them from the outside as Harley groaned out loudly as she finally entered his large office. "I think I got blisters..." She was just about to kick her shoes off again, before she heard his signature laugh from the opposite side of the room.
The room really was cold after all, enough to make her prickle with goose bumps, with a constant bitter draft brushing up against her, especially on her bare tummy and arms and under the skirt, "Blisters? Hah. You're young, little urchin. You'll get used to heels twice that high before her know it."
Penguin was dressed warmly, in his standard sharp tux, a thick fur coat on over that, sitting himself in a long chair as he took her in, "Mwah...yes, yes. Teach her to wear heels, makeup other than clown...you'll be right popular in my most exclusive brothel after we finish our business here."
Harley stared at him with a serious look on her face for a long moment as she stepped closer to him. As she got closer to his desk she had started laughing. She thought it was a joke, but then; if one lives with the Clown Prince of Crime, one would think everything a joke.
"Wouldn't be caught dead working in this crappy place. What do her really want Penguin!?" She reached down and pulled the huge heel off her foot and slammed it on his table. She narrowed her eyes and shuddered in the cold, the goose bumps on her skin could be seen from where he was seated. "Make it fast. I ain't stayin' longer than I need to."
He took a long drag through his cigarette holder, breathed out slowly, "Bloody rotten attitude though. Some clients pay top dollar for that, but child, I won't tolerate it for myself."
He raised the smoking holder up, then traced out two circles. At that signal, there came a hissing in the room, "You're just a tot so I'll keep it simple, missy. Poison gas. The right painful kind. Breath it in and you'll be sorry, feels like big pointy shards 'o glass in your lungs, spreads right through your blood."
He took another drag from the cigarette holder, "Real slow killer too, keeps you awake for the whole thing. Here's the important bit. Get the antidote quick ahead of time and it all just smells like frosty mints. Get it quick enough; you'll be right as rain. Bit longer, you'll never take a good deep breath again but you'll live." His voice went low and hard, "But if you take too long to show some goddamn respect, it ain't do a thing for ya."
Harley glared at him as he spoke, a look that softened as he continued. She took a deep breath in and pulled the heel back on, but she did sit on his table to let her feet rest a bit longer. "Sorry Sir..." She mumbled in her most polite voice, even though acting sweet made her sick in the stomach. "What do can I do for someone so powerful and great as yourself?" She did her best to keep her words from sounding sarcastic. How she wanted to scowl at him. She wanted to spit right in his eye, but she knew he wasn't bluffing about the poison. She wanted to tear the uncomfortable dress off and burn it, but at least the colours were nice together. She focused on the positive for now.
He didn't make any sort of signal and there was still that persistent hiss in the air. Was that just the cold air on her feet, or had something else brushed against her, sinking in through her stockings? She did feel cold...but that was just the room, right?
"So you're not brain dead after all. Lovely! Down to business then, my little urchin. Your daddy has been a very bad, bad man, stealing and looting from my operations just so he can play some bloody stupid pranks for his boyfriend to clean up after. I'm right sick and tired of it. As for what you can do, you can spit up the name of whatever scummy mole he has inside me inner circle that's feeding him info." Mole? What mole? The Joker didn't use any moles!
Harley pulled her feet onto the table, crossing her legs underneath her to warm them with the little body heat she had. "You think Mistah J is serious enough to hire a mole? Puddin' only does what he thinks is funny. Pissing you off is not one of those things. We know better than stealing from people who actually pose a threat." She forced a sweet smile onto her face. "Are we done here now, Mistah Cobblepot? I would love to put something warm on." Her nipples were hard, and the dress didn't hide that fact, but then again, her usual attire wouldn't hide it either.
"And you were doing so good too. A pity. You would have made me quite a bit of money spreading your legs for me. I think that once you pass, I'll send your head along to her Mr. J, see if I can't flush him out of his rat hole and into a rattrap. Boy's as queer as the bat though, so not bloody likely, but it's worth doing either way, don't you think?" There was still that hissing sound, and that maybe imagined feeling of extra cold on her legs was changing to a bit icier cold on her thighs.
"If it makes you feel better, I'll tell him you resisted to the very end, swearing your love for him. That kind of soppy nonsense sometimes works on his sort of loony."
Harley's demure smile facade faded again. "Look, freak. I told her what I know. You don't believe me? Mistah J will kill you if ya so much as touch me. And it will be torture, I swear it." She crawled on her hands and knees, closer to him, pushing things off his desk, scowling and shooting daggers from her eyes at the criminal. "You let me out of this hellhole before I break every bone in her body. Get me out. Now!"
"Lot of fire in you, ain't there?" He put out his smoke on a glass ashtray, then discarded it, "Thinking you can threaten me in my home. Thinkin' your sick joke of a daddy figure is gonna save your bacon?"
He rose from the chair. He really wasn't a tall man, but he did look menacing, "You stupid little git!"
With surprising strength, he took hold of the table with both hands then overturned it. Expensive things shattered on the floor as she tumbled down, and for a moment it felt as though the little girl had plunged right into ice water, the heavy gas immediately feeling freezing on her skin. She had just enough time to suck in one more breath...
Harley landed on her back, shattered glass beside her and the table over her legs. It was heavier than she thought and she couldn't get it off her legs. She shuddered as her vision went blurry and the room spun. She didn't think he had the guts to go to all that trouble to get her there just to kill her. She took her breath and counted on that fact, still glaring in his direction.
He laughed that laugh of his when she gave him that defiant look, holding his shaking belly as he let loose. After he got it out of his system, he began to slowly saunter towards her, "Maybe you're worth something after all. Nothing else, seeing you wheeze out slowly with that dumb look on your face doesn't sound nearly as fun as some other things I have in mind. So let's play some games, urchin. You win, you get to skip out of here and I'll even lend her fare for a cab ride. I win...well, no need to worry about that now, is there? First game. Let's see just what that clown's been teaching ya. Hands on the wall, ass high, flip that skirt...then loudly tell me just how much her want me to fuck that cherry ass 'o yours. Say it like a good girl an' I'll shut off the Invisible Ice, let you have some of the antidote." Of course...doing so would also mean being forced to breath in the stuff. His eyes were glinting now. Whatever it was she was doing, it made her more interesting, more alluring. And that made things a lot more dangerous.
Harley shook her head at this, smirking as he burned up inside. She was never one to play by the rules, even if she was punished for it. She grabbed a piece of paper, something that looked important and scribbled "I want you in here, Puddin'!" on one side in big words. She wriggled out from under the table, still holding her breath as she taped the paper to her butt.
That got another belly laugh from the man, "Delightful! Hah! Absolutely delightful. Have it your way then." For such a round man, he was light on his feet. It might have help that his shoes were expensive, dapper, but more than functional for running away or getting his knuckles dirty. With a lunge, he'd grabbed her by the wrist and then pulled her away from the broken bits of glass and clay, throwing her over the arm of a couch, pinning one arm painfully behind her back as he plucked the paper and tape away and took his first good luck at her flesh.
The air seemed more than enough to set her teeth to chattering, her body shivering, as he slowly began to spread her cheeks apart, taking his time.
Harley rolled her eyes as she wrote "GAS! You're killin' me Pengi!" on the other side and placed it back on her ass, the only place she knew he would see in time. Her cheeks were going red and the room was still spinning, obvious to him by her messy handwriting.
He gave her ass a good squeeze, appreciating its youthful elasticity and smoothness, ran his finger over her slit, lightly massaging it, "Already told you, urchin. You need to ask like a good girl..." He wet his thumb, then forced it roughly into her bottom, burying it up to the knuckle and stirring it around, "...for me to fuck this ass of yours."
Harley had to cover her mouth with her hand to keep from breathing. She squirmed restlessly and desperately. She couldn't hold her breath much longer and the two of them knew it. She held it in for a few minutes as he played with her, but she could feel that she was close to passing out. She cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled. "HURRY UP! I NEED IT!" She inhaled the air in her hands, but it wasn't enough. She felt daggers in her chest. Just like swallowing glass, she nearly screamed but the only thing stopping that was the fact that if she did, she'd just inhale more ice. It was torture at its finest.
He savoured every single moment of it, delighting in the way her body was squirming, wriggling about as she had to fight that urge, tiny little chest rebelling and trying to inhale while she stubbornly held it in. All building up to that final moment when she took in that breath. That beautiful, agonizing whimper, that pure will to hold it in even though her lungs were no doubt burning, not just from the poison, but the lack of oxygen. The display was more than enough to get him absolutely rigid...but it wasn't enough.
He took a hard grip on one of her puffy pigtails and pulled her back to her feet, getting a better view at her trembling, lovely little body, then spoke darkly into her ear, "Good girl. Good girl. Deep breathes now...and apologize for being such a naughty slut."
Harley groaned loudly, pleading silently with her eyes. She had done what he wanted already and she felt like she was going to explode. Her hand was still covering her mouth and nose, her face going a slight blue hue. She knew he wouldn't budge until she did everything he told her to do, yet she still tried swaying him. She could feel the tears welling in her bright blue eyes. Harley swallowed hard, squeezed her eyes shut and screamed at him again. "SORRY I'M NAUGHTY!" He could hear her inhale the toxic air, he could see the pain on her face and she knew he was revelling in it.
He sucked in a deep breath, a wave of pure sadistic delight slowly washing over him. All that and she still wasn't broken, was still trying to fight...but that pain, that anguish. The contrast between her emotional maturity and delicate little child's body was simply too perfect. He would enjoy this.
He reached inside of his coat, threw her once more over the couch's arm, then stabbed her with a thick needle, plunging something inside of her. Immediately, her skin began to warm at the point of contact, and it spread, slowly working its way down to the tip of her toes...and agonizingly slowly bringing warm, warm relief to her lungs, melting away the invisible ice. Within just moments, it seemed as though the room were like a sauna rather than an icebox, "There now...that wasn't so hard, was it, lass?"
Harley groaned out loudly as the syringe pierced her creamy skin, still holding her breath; she still didn't trust him, for obvious reasons. As her body warmed, she breathed in and finally relaxed as the air came in sweeter than ever. She started panting heavily as she draped herself over the arm of his couch, desperate for air. She took a minute to breathe, before opening her mouth to speak. She wasn't used to being so quiet for so long and she hated it, and him for forcing her silence. "Ya got nothin' keepin' me here no more, idiot!"
He gave a quick, sharp laugh, "Quite the contrary, pet. I've had more than enough of you for now. Later, when I have the urge, I'll have a brand new torture just for you. Just don't expect me to be as merciful with her as tonight. It's your novelty I delight in, and just as soon as you grow stale..." He trailed off, and a beat later, the door opened once more.
"Ah, Selina, take her back to her room for now."
The dark-haired whore submissively bowed, "At once, Sir.", then turned her icy gaze towards the girl, "Let's go."
Harley glared almost as coldly as his invisible ice at him as she stepped away, grumbling softly to herself as she walked away. She wondered if she could take the whore out this time, got lost in thought about stringing the stout mob boss from the roof and she almost fell down the stairs. She wondered how long it would take Joker to realize she's missing. Probably a week. Maybe more.
Her fantasies made the long walk back to her new room much faster, but her butt still hurt where he jabbed her. He didn't even give her a lollypop!