Genres: AU, Challenge, Drama, D/sfic, Slavefic
Challenge Category: Section A (Playful)
Warnings: D/s relationship
Summary: Bruce trusts his needs...and desires...to Dick.
Date Of Completion: July 1, 2010
Date Of Posting: July 5, 2010
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 717
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Notes: Written for my 2010 Slavefic AU Fic Prompt Request for bat_angelwings. Pairing: Master Dick/Slave Bruce. Prompt: Boots. :) Also written for my 2010 DCU Fic/Art Bondage Challenge.
Of my thirst
Wayne Manor held many secrets. Generations had kept their counsel within its walls, the peccadilloes of the rich safe from prying eyes.
This generation of Waynes was no different.
Inside the great Manor, all was quiet, the only sounds that of clocks ticking: mantel clocks, wall clocks, grandfather clocks.
Age lived in the statues, paintings, and furniture, but the rooms were fresh and airy, courtesy of Alfred, who was out of the house for the day.
The smell of leather was strong in one of those airy rooms.
Bruce Wayne kept his eyes closed, the smell of the leather intoxicating. It mingled with musk, his own or the Master of his soul, maybe both.
Boot heels clicked on the polished hardwood floor. His knees hurt on the hard surface, but it would be worth it, yes, worth it.
Bruce’s heart was racing, anticipation building up as the owner of the boots walked around and around, tantalizingly close.
A thin strip of silk, weighted with tiny tassels, caressed his neck. “Are you ready for me, Bruce?”
“Yes,” Bruce breathed.
The voice was imperious, amused, and was Bruce’s focus. He kept his hands locked tight in his lap, waiting for his orders. Excitement thrummed along his nerves, but he also felt relaxed. He trusted the Master of his destiny.
“Open your eyes.”
Bruce obeyed, staring up from the black leather boots up to the powerful acrobat’s legs, then the black silk briefs and leather jacket. A bare-chested Dick smiled down at him in satisfaction. Long, graceful fingers carded through Bruce’s hair while the other hand held the whip.
“Show me how much you appreciate my generosity, Bruce,” Dick said languorously.
Bruce rubbed his face against the boots, inhaling the strong scent, then began kissing his way up the magnificent legs, fingers still caressing his hair.
He had no plans, no plots, no schemes. He simply took orders from the Master of his heart, trusting him completely.
Little shivers went through the strong legs under his warm lips, and he moaned in delight. He was getting his beautiful bird excited. He gently scraped his teeth down the front of the black briefs, Dick moaning this time. He was already hard, Bruce hiding his smile. The nimble fingers curled in Bruce’s hair and tugged, Bruce gently peeling down the briefs, Dick’s cock springing out.
Eagerly, Bruce ran his tongue along the hard column of flesh, Dick gasping as his body moved, a cry torn from him as Bruce swallowed him, expertly giving Dick pleasure.
Dick filled him, heart and soul, and a calmness lay beneath his own excited arousal. Dick’s fingers were painfully wrapped in his hair but he ignored any discomfort, increasing his sucking as his own cock throbbed. Dick’s hips bucked, his back arching, the jacket falling back to expose erect nipples as his legs trembled. Bruce cupped his buttocks for a better grip. Besides, who wouldn’t like squeezing those buns? The whip's silken cords caressed his skin. Dick was nearly ready to…
When Dick orgasmed, his seed spilled down Bruce’s throat. When Dick pulled out gently, Bruce gasped as his own erection was painful. Dick was wobbly but he reached down, pushed down Bruce’s pants and underwear, and his mere touch sent Bruce over the edge.
“Mmm, you are a prize,” Dick crooned.
“Dick…” Bruce breathed.
Dick used his clean hand to brush the hair out of his lover’s eyes. “Clean us up,” he said quietly, his eyes sparkling.
Much later as they lay in bed together, Bruce traced a finger up and down his young lover’s bare thigh, Dick smiling as he curled up closer.
“You really like my Dom’s outfit, hmm?” He nipped at Bruce’s ear. The outfit was scattered all around the bedroom.
“Especially those boots.”
Dick laughed, caressing Bruce’s hip. “Mmm, why do you think I still wear pixie boots as Robin? Too dangerous to wear regular…” he slid his hand over to his lover’s groin “…leather…” Bruce groaned as Dick’s hand touched his cock. “…boots.”
As Bruce let pleasure wash over him, he was a slave to his desire, and his desire was Dick.