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bradygirl_12Author: BradyGirl
Pairings/Characters: (this chapter): Clark/Bruce, Jim Gordon
Series Notes: In the 23rd century, Earth is a technologically-advanced society that practices the ancient institution of slavery. The wealthy freeman Bruce Wayne acquires a highly-prized pleasure slave whom has fallen in love with him…but can the Prince of Gotham ever return that love? And will it all be moot as a weak abolitionist movement slowly gathers strength while the Galactic Empire remains in a perpetual state of Cold War? The entire series can be found here.
Categories: Drama, AU
Rating: (this chapter): NC-17
Warnings: Sexual violence (not Bruce/Clark), mild kink.
Spoilers: None
Summary: The Batman stalks Gotham, determined to re-assert his claim of dominance over the city...and his slave.
Date Of Completion (First Draft): March 27, 2007
Date Of Posting: August 12, 2007
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 2424
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
In the castle
By-the-sea,
My heart
Spoke to me.
I gave
My
Soul and bone,
To the one
Who said,
“Mine to own.”
Janice Greenleaf Whittier
“Nature’s Gold And Other Poems”
2007 C.E.
IV
DOMINATION
Bruce ordered Clark upstairs as evening fell. The cleaning was done despite the earlier incident. Everything sparkled, glittered, and gleamed, including his slave.
Clark had needed Bruce to take him, to make him feel safe again.
Bruce needed more. He didn’t feel safe. That…that cretin who had violated Clark had invaded the sanctuary of Wayne Manor. It made him so angry that he couldn’t see straight.
He took a deep breath.
Control the anger.
Anger was useful, but only if it could be tightly-controlled. The Batman was all controlled anger.
He smiled a Bat smile.
& & & & & &
Bruce pushed the bedroom door open. Clark was just coming out of the bathroom. He was wearing a bright blue robe and began to untie the sash, then stopped and waited for orders.
“Proceed,” Bruce said with a smile.
Clark obeyed, untying the sash and slipping the robe off, blushing slightly at his Master’s frank gaze. He began to slide to his knees when Bruce stopped forward, grasping Clark’s arms and pushing them behind his back while he kissed him deeply.
Bruce’s other hand rested on Clark’s bandaged chest. “To bed on your stomach, unless…” he whispered.
“I’m fine.”
Bruce released him and Clark sat on the bed, rolling over to stretch out on black silk. He waited patiently as was a slave’s nature, then jumped as Bruce took his right arm and tied it to the bedpost with a length of chain.
“M…Master?”
“Shh, my Prize.” Bruce chained the other arm, then lightly caressed Clark’s back, sliding his hand down the spine until he reached the curve of the buttocks. “Something a little different tonight.” He smiled at the shiver that ran through Clark’s body. “You’ll be open and ready for me when I return.” He pulled apart Clark’s legs, attaching ankle manacles with chains as he tied them to the bedposts.
Bruce admired his handiwork. His beautiful slave was stretched out on his stomach, spread-eagled and awaiting his Master’s pleasure. A charge of electricity went through him, and for a moment he was tempted to take what was his right now but the whisper-silk of the Bat lured him away. He leaned down and whispered, “If you need anything, call on Alfred. He’ll leave his door open and I’ll leave this door open, too.” Bruce nuzzled his slave’s neck right above his sparkling collar. “But you will be open and ready for me, as you should be.” His breath tickled Clark’s ear. “Always, whether in day or night, in private or public.” Another shiver. Bruce smiled as he withdrew, then paused. He bent down and kissed a smooth buttock in promise, benediction…or possession?
He left the room, the shadow of the Bat looming.
& & & & & &
Batman roamed the rooftops, vigilant and powerful. He would re-establish dominance over Gotham, a city of shadows and danger.
He needed that claiming. His sanctuary, Wayne Manor, had been violated this day. He would take back his safety for him and his slave.
Anger swept over him as he thought of his slave’s violation. Clark felt safe at the Manor, and now that safety had been violated.
Batman closed his fist. He would claim sanctuary again, just as he would claim his slave. Possess him, take him, re-claim his property and make him immutably his.
He growled as he saw a pair of muggers set on a lone victim, swooping down to batter the first, the second one fleeing. He trussed up the first mugger and pursued the second, who was quick and desperate. The second mugger disappeared into Knickerbocker Hall.
Batman entered the Hall through a skylight, wrinkling his nose at the overwhelming stench of unwashed bodies and human waste. Unlike the elegantly-appointed business rooms of nearby Braddock Hall, this cavernous room held the living items for the weekly bazaars and other events. Every week, slaves were caged here before being cleaned for public exhibit and sale. During the annual Great Auction in July, the Hall’s storage area was packed to bursting with Human goods.
This weekly consignment of slaves were much less in number, but there were approximately a half-dozen cages filled. Most of the slaves were trying to get some sleep, one young man protectively holding a younger woman close to him as they slept, another woman holding a girl in her early twenties in a desperate grip as they slumbered. All were naked without even a scrap of cloth to cover themselves.
Batman frowned. Could his slave have been held at one time in this Hall? No, his status as a virgin would have kept him in a special cage, away from jeering guards and slavers.
A movement attracted his attention. He silently flew down, knocking the mugger unconscious. He scooped him up in a fireman’s carry and grappled up to the rafters. He would be up and out the skylight before anyone knew he’d been there.
“Time for some fun, whores.”
Batman looked down. He saw three large men dressed in guards’ uniforms. All three were grinning like malevolent idiots.
Batman shoved the trussed mugger up through the skylight and onto the roof.
The biggest guard had a gap-toothed grin and a dark beard. He opened a cage and pulled out the woman who had held the young girl close to her, yanking her by her hair. He pushed her to her knees while he freed his cock from his pants, pushing her head close.
“Do what you do best, whore.”
The woman gagged as the thick cock rammed into her mouth. As the leader took his pleasure, the second guard grabbed a young, blond-haired man from the next cage, tearing him away from the arms of the young woman he’d been cradling, and threw him onto his back, the third guard grabbing the slave’s manacled wrists.
“Hold ‘im down tight,” said the second man, yanking the slave’s legs apart and positioning himself.
“Please, leave us alone!” begged the girl in the first cage. “We’ll be sold off separately tomorrow. Give us some peace!”
The guards laughed.
Suddenly a dark shadow plunged down, knocking the second guard to the floor. The third man released the slave’s wrists in surprise.
“Batman!”
The voice was low and rasping. “Stop violating these slaves.”
The first guard smirked. His hand was in the female slave’s hair as he slowly thrust his hips, pushing his cock deeper into her mouth. “Why do you care if we fuck these whores? It’s not like we’re raping them.” His dark eyes glittered.
“No, but you are violating property.” Batman cocked his head. “Are their Masters aware that you’re soiling their goods?”
“If they didn’t want these pieces of ass touched, they wouldn’t leave them in the slave pens.” The guard shrugged. “If they were virgins they’d be in special lock-up. Although…” he laughed “…there’s always a way to enjoy a whore without taking their virginity below the waist.” He looked down with a leer.
“So you despoil virgins here as well?”
“Sure. There was a real pretty one caged a few months ago that we still managed to have fun with. He had a very talented mouth, courtesy of the Rigellian slavers who originally sold him to Bracken. Yeah, he was very talented…”
The guard yelped as he was knocked down, the slave releasing his cock and scrambling back into the cage, coughing with a hollow sound as she hugged the sobbing girl
Batman stood over the stunned guard. “You’ve had your pleasure for tonight. I suggest you do your jobs instead of despoiling the merchandise.”
Batman turned and shut the cage door, his gaze on the woman who had been violated, and he removed something from the folds of his cape and unobstrusively dropped it to the floor, the young girl snatching it up, hidden from view by his cape. He went to the next cage and did the same thing, none of the guards seeing anything, and then he was gone in a sweep of cape, leaving behind equally-astonished guards and slaves.
& & & & & &
Commissioner James Gordon finished his report, hitting the ‘Send’ key as he closed out the word processing option. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. It had been a long night.
He looked at the gold-framed holographs on his desk. As always, he felt a mixture of sadness and affection as he looked at the picture of his late wife.
The next holograph was of his daughter Barbara. His bright young girl was a star gymnast preparing for the Olympic trials. Pride welled in his chest as he looked at the smiling girl.
A movement by the window caught his eye. At the same moment he heard a commotion downstairs.
The window opened, the Batman gliding in.
“Commissioner.”
“Batman.” He cocked his head. “I take it that commotion is courtesy of you?”
“Two muggers neatly trussed on the front steps.”
“Thank you.” Batman inclined his head in acknowledgement, but he remained instead of leaving. “Is there something else?”
The office was dark except for the small circle of light from the lamp on Jim’s desk. It suited the Dark Knight well.
“I may have overstepped my bounds tonight.”
“Oh?” Jim was not particularly surprised to hear it. The Batman was not above certain tactics in his war against crime, but Jim tended to look the other way at excessive bruises or a few broken bones. This city was a corrupt cesspool, and if a vigilante like Batman could get some of the scum off the streets to help his overworked police department, what of it?
“I roughed up some guards at the slave pens.” His voice held no regret. “They were rap…violating property.”
“Ah.” If Batman had been talking about freemen, the world would have been ‘rape’, though Jim had noticed the near-slip of the tongue. “Violating another man’s property is a criminal offense. Do you wish to charge them?”
The Dark Avenger shook his head. “As the lead guard said if the owners wanted untouched goods, they wouldn’t leave them in the pens. Everyone knows the guards take their fill. Still, there should be standards.”
Jim smiled. “Are you an abolitionist, Batman?”
A small smile. “Hardly. But Gotham could improve her reputation if the rampant violations could be stopped, or at least lessened.” A deep breath. “The slaves could be left in peace.”
Jim nodded. “I could assign police details, but I’m shorthanded. I’ll talk to the owners of Knickerbocker Hall. Of course, they may not care about changing it, but if they do, I know a good security company.”
“Thank you, Commissioner.”
Before Jim had a chance to answer, Batman was out the window and disappearing into the night.
He sighed. The man didn’t like hanging around like his namesake.
Jim returned to his desk, his gaze falling on the picture of his daughter. She was a beautiful young girl, especially with that luxuriant-red hair…he shuddered at the thought of what she would go through if she were manacled.
Yes, it wouldn’t hurt to push for some new security over at Knickerbocker Hall.
& & & & & &
The Hall was quiet and dark, the guards gone. While the slaves in the other cages slept, the slaves in the two cages that contained the victims of the violations were quietly partaking of the water bottles the Batman had left them.
A small gesture, but he had noticed the brackish water in their bowls. He had slipped each cage a bottle of the purest spring water that tasted like nirvana.
For the first time in a long time, they felt Human.
& & & & & &
“I’m here, my Prize.”
Clark jumped at the voice in his ear. Blinking, he turned his head.
“M…Master?”
“Yes.” Bruce rubbed his shoulder, his breath tickling Clark’s ear. “Here to take what is mine.”
Clark shivered at the words. He had slept most of the evening adjusting to his chained position. Bruce had not pulled the chains too tight so he had a little wiggle room, but his legs were spread wide, a frisson of excitement skittering through his groin.
His Master’s fingers combed through his hair, sliding down to caress his face. He impulsively kissed his fingers, hopeful that his boldness would be accepted. Bruce’s other hand caressing his back indicated his approval.
Clark shivered again as Bruce began rubbing his buttocks. He rubbed his face into the pillows, eager to please his Master. He wanted to serve this man in the only way he could.
My body is yours.
Bruce slipped his fingers to stroke the inside of Clark’s thighs.
My heart is yours.
Clark moaned softly as a finger entered him, teasing and playing. It was what he had dreamed about while waiting for his Master to return. The quiet had soothed his soul. Stretched out on his stomach and chained to the bed, open and ready, he had felt a peace that he supposed some might find odd, yet made perfect sense to him.
He loved Bruce. Bruce was his Master, kind and gentle, but expecting obedience. Unless Clark was willing to challenge that expectation, he would have to obey.
And there had been the dreams. Tonight he had suffered at the hands of the Knickerbocker Hall guards, dreams he couldn’t quite remember as he awoke in a cold sweat with a pounding heart, but he remembered enough fragments to realize how lucky he was.
Clark craved security, and despite the incident earlier that day, he knew he had safety here at Wayne Manor.
Now his body craved Bruce, who was straddling him and whispering, “No one shall ever touch you again.” His cock nudged Clark’s buttocks as Bruce caressed the creamy cheeks, pulling them apart and easing in, claiming what was his. “No one…” he thrust “…shall ever…” Clark moaned at another thrust “…violate you…” deep, hard stroke “…again.”
Chains rattled as Clark’s limbs moved, his body pushing back to urge Bruce deeper. In this moonlit bedroom in a mansion high on a cliff by the sea, he gave himself up to love and possession.
“Mine,” Bruce growled.
“Yes,” Clark breathed, crying out with pleasure as the pain of his past was driven away for one perfect moment.
Possession by moonlight.
Possession by Bruce.
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Date: 2011-01-25 01:25 pm (UTC)It's not a surprise, either. He's Batman because he cares about people and wants to help them. How much of a stretch is it to go from "people", meaning free people, to "people", meaning ALL people? We'll find out!
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Date: 2011-01-26 03:26 am (UTC)You could subtitle this, 'The Education of Bruce Wayne'. :)
It's not a surprise, either. He's Batman because he cares about people and wants to help them. How much of a stretch is it to go from "people", meaning free people, to "people", meaning ALL people? We'll find out!
A journey that'll be interesting, to be sure! :)