Pairings/Characters: (this chapter): Clark//Bruce, Alfred, Dick, Alfred, Sefran, King Jodelle/King Jovan, Lorel
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): NC-17
Summary: Bruce and his Household attend the first formal banquo.
Date Of Completion (First Draft): March 7, 2009
Date Of Posting: January 23, 2010
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 1561
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Entered into the 2010 DCU Fic/Art Bondage Challenge.
The Ja’zel Handbook
There was a flurry of activity to get ready for the first formal banquo.
Clark freshened his kohl. Even though no one but Bruce would see it, he still wanted to look his best.
He put on extra jewelry, slipping on the rich silken jattra, the whisper of silk on his skin extremely pleasant. He loved the luxury of his surroundings.
Bruce was tying his belt, the jingling of beads musical in the quiet of the room. He checked his reflection in the mirror.
“No kohl for me tonight.” He primped his hair, looking at the results critically. “I’ll need your help on the third night.”
“I’ll be an expert by then.”
Bruce grinned. He gathered Clark to him, the two of them jangling.
They laughed as they separated, Clark picking up his javea and Veiling himself.
“Don’t worry about making mistakes. All the slaves here at the conference are new to Jovaran customs.”
A knock on the door signaled Dick and Alfred’s arrival.
Sefran escorted them to the banquet hall, nodding to a guard to open the gold-and-jewel-inlaid wooden doors.
The banquet hall was impressive. Painted in gold-and-white, it was splendid in its grandeur. A high vaulted ceiling with mythological frescoes and chandeliers shone down on the polished floor, a low table set with golden bowls of fresh fruit and solid gold silverware. Crystal glasses were delicate stemware, glimmering at every place setting.
Jodelle and Jovan sat at one end of the table on blue velvet cushions.
“Welcome,” Jodelle said, sweeping out his arm. “Please be seated.”
There were cushions for everyone, and the pleasure slaves knelt by their Masters. Alfred stood behind Bruce, ready to serve, and Dick took his place against the wall, holding a silver carafe of a honey-colored drink.
“Tonight will be a light repast. Please enjoy.”
True to his word, the meal was light and pleasant. Clark served Bruce, taking various plates from Alfred, who in turn received them from a string of servants. Bruce indicated his preferences and Clark scooped the food off the platters with a gold spoon and fork and laid it on Bruce’s plate.
Bruce rewarded him by feeding him choice bits of meat and vegetables. Dick darted forward to re-fill Bruce’s glass, smiling at them both.
After the meal and before dessert was served, Jodelle clapped his hands. “Some entertainment, ladies and gentlemen.”
The Squires gave their carafes up to the royal servants, quickly arranging themselves in their prospective roles. Several of them took up instruments and sat on cushions cross-legged, beginning to play as Dick and his fellow Squires performed a series of acrobatic routines.
Clark, Bruce, and Alfred watched with pride as Dick clearly outshone a very talented group. The guests laughed and clapped appreciatively as the performance was simple yet flawless. Dick finished the routine with a high backflip, landing lightly on the mat. He bowed with a brilliant smile as he jangled, his blue eyes sparkling, matching the pixie dust.
Clark applauded, noticing other slaves doing so. Pride nearly burst out of him as Dick sparkled.
“Dessert.” Jodelle clapped. "And when our young Squires get more practice, we will see more elaborate routines."
Eyes widened at the airy confections brought in, the small cakes as light as air, made of spun sugar. Bruce very carefully ate a cake, then offered one to Clark, who happily took it. It tasted exquisite, melting in his mouth.
After dessert was cleared away, a line of guards appeared.
“Your Ja’zels will be taken and prepared for you. Now, a musical selection from one of our finest musicians…” Jodelle said.
Clark felt apprehensive as he was taken away with the other slaves, but Bruce gave his hand a quick squeeze before he left.
He was led to his Master’s bedroom. Three Jovaran free servants were waiting.
The chief servant, a well-muscled man in short yellow cloth, sandals, arm bracelets, and necklace, said, “Ah, Prince Bruce’s Ja’zel. I am Lorel, ready to prepare you for your Master.” He indicated the other two similarly-built men. “We are completely professional. We will take no liberties.” Lorel flashed white teeth. “Now, brush your teeth, relieve yourself, and we will begin.”
Dick happily ate in the slaves’ dining hall, impressed at the quality of the food. He listened to the babble of languages. He had turned off his translator in order to practice.
He understood bit and pieces of some of them, and was fluent in Eldoran and Rigellian.
The latter of which would be very convenient.
The Rigellian Squire, Brex, was a slave, too, which was fortunate for Dick. If he had been free it would have been much harder to get closer to him.
Brex was his age, and slightly taller, thin but wiry, and his dark hair was streaked with yellow-gold.
“I thought Rigellians only had one different-colored streak,” Dick commented as he ate a corn muffin.
“Most do. Some add false highlights. Mine is all natural,” Brex said proudly.
Dick grinned. “Cool.”
Brex laughed. “That’s Earth slang?”
“You speak good Rigellian.”
“Are you all right to speak English? I need to practice,” said Brex carefully.
“Fine by me!”
Clark shivered as he was bathed, efficient hands using a soft cloth to wash his skin. He wore a half-javea, exposing the lower half of his face, his eyes concealed. The water gleamed from the light of scented candles by the tub, Clark trying to still his pounding heart as Lorel’s hand washed his inner thighs, but didn’t touch further up.
One of the other men pulled his javea up at the back of his head, washing his hair, and he watched pink rose petals float in the water.
Strong arms helped him out of the tub, impersonally drying him off with fluffy white towels, Clark blushing a little, then Lorel told him to lay on the bed, a sheet spread out, and Clark gasped a little as sure hands began rubbing oil on his body, the scent of jasmine pleasant, fingers working that oil into his feet, calves, thighs, stomach, and arms. Lorel worked on his chest while his companions took care of other parts.
Clark obeyed, shivering as the hands rubbed his shoulders, back, legs, and buttocks.
He was grateful for the professional touch, Lorel’s hand on the small of his back to calm him as his other hand gently worked between his cheeks, not penetrating him but oiling every inch he could reach.
When the massage was over, Lorel took a set of chains and attacked them to Clark’s manacles, spreading his arms out and locking the chains to the bedposts.
Clark nodded, surprised to be asked. He tensed slightly as his legs were spread.
“Tell me when it becomes uncomfortable.”
A few seconds later Clark said, “Now.”
Lorel eased his legs back, still wide but not painful. He and one of the other attendants attached ankle manacles and tied the chains to the bedposts.
The clank of metal on the nightstand coincided with a hand on the small of Clark’s back again.
“Can you reach this key?” Clark stretched and grasped it. “Good. If you need to get loose, it’s there in case of fire or any other emergencies. The door will be left slightly ajar, and there are guards at the end of the hallway for your protection.” Lorel gently rubbed Clark’s back. “You will only be waiting about a half hour or so, but you are ready for your Master now.” He touched the pillow. “Need adjustment?” At Clark’s nod, Lorel fluffed it and Clark rested his head. “Get some rest. Your Master looks like a kind one but he will still want to enjoy you for the night.”
As Lorel began to leave, Clark raised his head. “Thank you.”
The Jovaran smiled. “Rest well, Ja’zel.”
Clark closed his eyes and rested his head back on the pillow.
Clark drifted in and out of sleep, faint strains of music coming down the hall, his body relaxed as he waited for Bruce.
It had been a long day.
“Mmm, now that’s what I like to see.”
Clark roused at the sound of Bruce’s voice. Bruce had removed his javea. He wiggled his buttocks slightly.
“I am here to serve, Master.”
“Oh, yeah.” Beads jangled as Bruce’s hand reached out and caressed Clark’s ass. “Perfect.”
Clark blushed, the sound of silk falling to the floor as Bruce disrobed. The bed moved slightly as Bruce climbed up on it, kneeling between his slave’s spread legs, caressing his butt and thighs lovingly. Warm lips kissed the small of Clark’s back and he shuddered.
Fingers brushed up his thighs and dipped between his cheeks, soft moans accompanying his exploration. Bruce eased in, his lover already well-oiled, and Clark groaned, chains jangling as Bruce filled him, pleasure thrumming along Clark’s nerves as he pushed back to impale himself further.
“My wanton Ja’zel,” Bruce purred amusedly as he thrust harder, Clark moaning.
The rhythm was sure and fast, Bruce’s grunts sending waves of pleasure through Clark, his heart soaring as he was thoroughly and lustily claimed.