Pairings/Characters: (this chapter): Clark/Bruce, Alfred
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
Summary: Bruce enjoys his slave…and his lover.
Date Of Completion (First Draft): July 27, 2007
Date Of Posting: January 2, 2008
Disclaimer: I don’t own 'em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 697
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
And the Prince smiled
As his Jewel sparkled.
He carefully polished and
Crafted his Jewel,
The sun setting him to shine
Like a firestone
Spirit, and blue like
A sapphire’s sea.
His Jewel was precious,
Owned by him,
In body and soul,
The most precious
“Enchanted Fairy Tales”
JEWEL OF THE PRINCE
Bruce, Clark, and Alfred enjoyed chicken, salad, and green beans in the kitchen. Alfred required no explanations as he simply knew, just as Bruce had said.
Laughter and joy filled the kitchen, lights lit to stave off the encroaching darkness. Another rainstorm had moved in, not as wild as the last one, but steadily drumming on the roof.
Bruce looked out the window. “No patrol tonight. Not even the Joker will be out on a night like this.”
Instead, after dinner Clark helped Alfred clean up while Bruce made a business call, then all three retired to the living room and watched the news, Bruce smiling as he saw Dinah Lance being interviewed, her plans for opening a new flower shop in Gotham welcome news as her chain was expanding beyond Star City.
Clark was curled up beside him on the couch, and Bruce’s arm tightened around him as a story on the Branding Bill came on-screen and his cousin’s cheerful face appeared.
“We have quite a few votes lined up to defeat this heinous bill. We will be in full force in the galleries when the vote is taken Thanksgiving week.”
Bruce was proud of Kathy. She and people like Martha Kent were upholding their convictions.
After the news they watched a few programs, the soft light of the lamps creating a cozy glow as the rain came down steadily.
Bruce considered himself very lucky. Clark had forgiven him for all that he had suffered, and loved him to boot!
He was in awe of that thought: his gentle, loyal slave loved him. He wasn’t merely grateful for good treatment and a safe haven from brothels or owners like the Caldwells (Bruce shuddered). He loved Bruce.
Truth had shone from Clark’s eyes.
The ancient grandfather clock in the library chimed eleven.
“Bed,” Bruce whispered in Clark’s ear.
They said goodnight to Alfred and walked up the stairs and into the bedroom.
Alfred had been busy. All of Clark’s possessions were back in the master bedroom, “where they belong,” according to the butler. Bruce couldn’t argue with that.
They stood in the center of the room at the foot of the bed, Bruce’s hands on Clark’s shoulders.
“My Starchild,” he whispered.
He kissed Clark tenderly and then began undressing him. Clark copied him and soon they were both naked, drinking in each other’s beauty. Bruce led Clark to the bed and stretched him out on his back.
“Let me love you,” Bruce murmured, and he began raining gentle kisses on Clark’s brow, eyelids, throat and chest, trailing down to his groin, Clark moaning softly. He cupped Clark’s cock, brushing his lips over it, delighted, at his lover’s moan.
His own cock bobbed and Clark’s hand touched him, sending little sparks of electricity through his body. Skillful fingers brought him to gasping excitement, and he quickly prepared them both. He slid in, Clark’s lashes fluttering, and Bruce took his hand and kissed it.
He watched the pleasure and love radiate from his slave’s face, and his lonely heart filled as he moved in and out of Clark’s body, claiming him as lover as well as slave.
Clark gazed into his face with shining eyes. He was a bright sun of happiness, little gasps and moans pleasuring Bruce.
Pleasure tingled through him as he took hold of Clark’s cock, delighting his lover as his own climax built up until it exploded deep within Clark, his lover’s seed spilling over his belly as the rain came down harder outside.
“Mine,” he breathed, and Clark understood the double meaning of the word.
“I am yours, always,” Clark whispered, and Bruce said, “I love you,” a pure happiness that he had never known before spreading through his heart and mind like molten gold.