Pairings/Characters: (this chapter): Sefran, Dick, Clark//Bruce, Alfred, King Jodelle/King Jovan, Prince Mirax Regnall, Dax Mantell
Series Notes: In the 23rd century, Earth is a technologically-advanced society that practices the ancient institution of slavery. The House Of Wayne travels off-world to the planet of Jovara on an important mission, and lovers Clark and Bruce learn more about their Master/slave dynamic through the eyes of this exotic culture. Meanwhile, Hal and Steve attempt to aid Diana and the Amazons to finally break free of their centuries-long enslavement on Paradise Island. The entire series can be found here.
Genres: AU, Drama, Slavefic
Challenge Category: Section E (Slavefic)
Rating: (this chapter): PG-13
Summary: Bruce and his Household attend a welcome luncheon.
Date Of Completion (First Draft): March 4, 2009
Date Of Posting: January 18, 2010
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 1232
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Entered into the 2010 DCU Fic/Art Bondage Challenge.
"The American Garden"
THE TASTE OF CITRUS
Sefran arrived with Dick to escort the Terrans to the dining room. Dick was still bright but wearing a new set of clothes. He was constantly jingling, delighted by his jewelry. Several strings of jewels dangled from his circlet and belt with the House colors.
“Do you like your quarters?” Bruce asked.
“Oh, yes!” Jingling as Dick nodded his head vigorously.
Bruce grinned as Clark did so behind his javea.
“Good.” Bruce handed him a pink silk pillow threaded with gold.
Alfred emerged from his room, looking as dignified as ever. “Ready, sir.”
Sefran led them to the dining room, nodding to a guard to open the gold-inlaid wooden doors, escorting them into the spacious room with a long table. Both Kings were seated, one at each end of the table. Slaves and free servants lined the walls, ready to serve.
Some guests were already seated. Bruce knew that for this welcome luncheon, Alfred and Dick would be allowed to sit beside him. It had surprised him, but Jovaran society had some pleasant surprises.
Dick laid the pillow next to Bruce’s chair, sitting in the next seat. Alfred sat on Bruce’s other side.
Clark knelt on the pillow, noticed the other pleasure slaves’ postures, and adopted their relaxed stance, folding his hands in his lap instead of crossed behind his back. He knew he’d have to adopt a more traditional posture at any banquos he attended, but at least now he could be more relaxed.
“Welcome, Prince Bruce,” said Jodelle.
“Thank you, King Jodelle. Mmm, the smells from the kitchen are mouthwatering.”
Bruce nodded to Jovan, who copied the gesture.
Jodelle smiled. “I like the kitchen on the same level as the dining areas instead of tucked away in some basement.” He nodded to the appetizers already set on the table. “Food should be enjoyed, not hidden away like some dirty little secret.”
“I agree, Your Majesty.”
There was a flurry of voices out in the hall, and then the Rigellian contingent appeared.
“King Jodelle! King Jovan! I’m looking forward to this repast!”
Prince Mirax was as handsome as most Rigellians, slender and olive-skinned with a streak of red in his shining black hair.
Dax Mantell was at his shoulder, smiling at Bruce, and threw Clark a quick look. He had a lighter skin tone but black, silky hair, too, with a streak of violet.
“Come, have a seat, Prince Mirax.”
After the Rigellians settled into their seats, Dax on one side and Mirax’s slave Squire on his right, his pleasure slave knelt at his feet on a lilac pillow.
“Javon and I welcome everyone to our home, and look forward to the opening of the conference tomorrow.”
“It is the honor of your guests to attend, Your Majesties.” The Idorian King, Ellis, happily picked up the champagne glass in front of his plate and raised it in a toast, the sparkling gold liquid resembling the Earth vintage. Long, silky, white hair was braided with red bangles, crimson skin stunning as yellow cat-like eyes sparked his enthusiasm.
Jodelle raised his glass. “Our pleasure.”
Glasses were raised, the toast well met, and the servants began to serve luncheon.
Clark’s mouth watered at the smell of the fresh fruits and breads. He loved food, and he suspected that was true before his memories began.
Bruce took the first bite of kava fruit, a pleased look on his face. He immediately cut a slice and fed Clark, who loved the citrus flavor. It tasted like lemon. Bruce kept up a steady feeding, Clark nuzzling his hand in gratitude.
There was light chatter, nothing too heavy as the conference would convene tomorrow. Clark kept an eye on Mirax. It would be tricky to ferret out any Kadoran spies. Kadorans resembled humanoids, easily passing for a number of races, including Human.
Alfred and Dick had been well-briefed on this mission and would be well-placed to keep watch as well.
Clark was excited and a little nervous about being part of this mission. He wanted to help out in a way other than the bedroom, as he did on Earth, even if it was only as support to Batman and Robin.
His body tingled as Bruce stroked his throat, his beads jangling lightly. He was still concealed from curious eyes, but the folds of the javea worked to allow easy access to Bruce.
His stomach knotted slightly as he thought of more formal meals and what would be expected of him. Swallowing his slice of kava, he wondered at what lay ahead.
After luncheon, Sefran took Bruce and his party on a tour of the grounds, each delegation with their own guide.
The courtyard was built of white blue-veined marble, fountains sparkling rainbow-hued water. The blue skies were Earth-like and fat, white clouds scudded across the azure span.
Pleasure slaves were sitting on stone benches talking to each other, reading, drawing, and generally enjoying the day. Squires ran and played, free couples strolling through the yard.
Beyond the courtyard walls were magnificent gardens, a profusion of color spilling out from the flowers, Clark amazed at the variety. He loved the scents that perfumed the air.
Bruce, Dick, and Alfred were impressed, too. Dick went close to a large, orange flower with black stripes and sniffed.
“Wow!” He looked around eagerly, pixie dust sparkling around his eyes. He had been ecstatic to apply the sparkly make-up. “It smells great! I’ve never smelled anything so pretty!”
Bruce bent down and sniffed. “You’re right.”
“Oh, my goodness. Capital,” said Alfred.
Clark could smell a luscious scent from the flower, breathing deeply through his javea.
“The flowers come from all over the Empire,” Sefran said. “We even have some from Earth.” He gestured to a bed of roses: yellow, pink, and red.
The Terrans’ faces lit up and they went closer to the roses.
It was always nice to have a touch of home.
“Bruce! How nice to see you.”
Mirax’s smooth voice drifted over. Bruce turned. “Hello, Mirax. It’s been awhile.”
The Rigellian smiled. “I was pleased to see your name on the conference list.”
“Always good to be appreciated.”
Mirax’s dark eyes flicked over Alfred and Dick, settling on Clark.
“You’ve acquired some new assets since last we saw each other.”
“Yes.” Bruce put a hand on Dick’s shoulder, staying close to Clark. Alfred had little need of protection, but Bruce kept his eye on him, too. Old habits died hard.
“I would guess that your ka-tare is luscious.”
Bruce’s lips thinned at the emphasis on the first syllable. The word translated as ‘whore’ in English when using the first syllable. Emphasis on the second was complimentary, a subtle difference that was typically Rigellian.
Dax kept silent but was watching everything like a hawk. Clark felt nervous under Mirax’s scrutiny. He was glad of Bruce’s close proximity.
“I’ll look forward at seeing more of him at the ja’zanna banquo.”
“Yes, well, I’m proud of my ka-tare.”
Mirax’s eyes glittered with amusement at the emphasis on the second syllable.
“You should be. Right, Dax?”
“Right, Your Highness.”
The Rigellian party moved on, Alfred’s eyebrow rising. “Interesting gentleman.”
“Quite so.” Bruce squeezed Dick’s shoulder. “Let’s continue with the tour, shall we?”
It wouldn’t be the first time they had to protect an arrogant jerk.