Pairings/Characters: Clark/Dick, Gracchus, Bruce
Genres: Angst, AU, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Slavefic
Warnings: Whippings, beatings
Summary: After the horrors he has suffered after being enslaved, Cassius prefers life as his beautiful young Master’s personal slave.
Date Of Completion: April 15, 2011
Date Of Posting: April 17, 2011
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 917
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Notes: Written for my 2011 Slavefic AU Fic Prompt Request for saavikam77. Pairing: Master Dick/Slave Clark. Prompts: Debauchery, Jewels, Silk. :)
Even though you can figure it out pretty quickly, Cassius = Clark, Darius = Dick. :)
Of my despair,
Now I can
Cassius had to smile at Darius’ singing. His Master’s arm was slung around his shoulders, Cassius’ other arm firm around the younger man’s waist. Their sandals scuffed along the ground, Cassius heading toward their tent. Darius stumbled but Cassius held him up.
Little wonder he is so drunk. Roman nobles consume more wine than Bacchus.
They reached the tent and Cassius helped his Master onto the couch. The tent was all rich silks and plush cushions as befit the scion of the most powerful House in Rome.
Darius’ head lolled on the pillow as his slave wet a cloth and wiped down his face. Cassius smiled. He truly was the most beautiful man he had ever seen.
He removed Darius’ toga, the silk soft on his fingers, and set it aside. He could smell the scent of sex on his young Master.
The Roman banquet became a Roman orgy, I see.
His Master attracted both men and women like bees to honey. Cassius could not blame them. Darius was light itself, kind and sweet and considerate. Sometimes Cassius worried that the cutthroat nature of Roman politics would drain that light from his gentle Master.
As he washed down the lithe body, he conceded that Darius loved to be the center of attention, and as the heir to the Valerius fortune, he certainly received plenty.
Darius smiled as he giggled, moving restlessly on the couch. Cassius kept him from rolling off with a firm hand. His strength would come in handy at times, though truth be told, it had caused him more trouble than not.
He thought of his days as a gladiator, forced to fight…and kill. It was one thing to kill someone in battle, but for the entertainment of screaming crowds in the Coliseum? It had made him sick.
His life had been filled with violence since his village had been destroyed, along with his parents, and despite his strength he had been taken away in chains to face more horror. He had been threatened with execution when he finally refused to fight even after horrific whippings.
And that was when my savior came.
The richly-clad Darius had been on a tour of the gladiator school when he had first seen the bloodied Champion of the Arena…
“What is going on here?” Darius asked as he saw the naked kneeling slave, his back scored and his buttocks badly bruised. Cassius saw the young noble, trying to breath as the pain seared his lungs.
“Discipline,” answered Gracchus, his scarred face stony.
Cassius saw pity in the young man’s blue eyes. He lifted his chin defiantly and Gracchus’ assistant raised his whip.
Darius put his hand out. “No.”
“Sir, this does not concern you.”
“It most certainly does. Why is this champion being so mistreated?”
“He refuses to fight.”
“I see. So you think beating him bloody will inspire him?”
“We tried. The next step is execution.”
“What a waste,” Darius murmured.
Cassius closed his eyes, battling the pain. Even though he was accustomed to being talked about like a piece of furniture since he had become a slave, it still made him sad. Sometimes he felt as if he would die of loneliness in this cruel world.
He opened his eyes just in time to see Darius pluck a glittering jewel off his tunic and hold it out to Gracchus. “I will take him off your hands.”
Gracchus’ face took on a crafty expression. “I cannot let him go for such a low price. He is a Champion of the Arena!”
“You were going to put him to death. Why not get something for your trouble?”
“You drive a hard bargain, young Valerius.” Cassis gasped as his collar chain was yanked painfully. “Meet your new Master, dog.”
Cassius looked up into the eyes of a sympathetic Darius.
Darius had tended to Cassius himself and his adoptive father Brucius had approved of the purchase.
“Gracchus is a fool, and a scoundrel. Imagine not being able to appreciate such strength and beauty!”
Darius understood tragedy, having watched his parents die when their circus had been attacked by brigands. He could have easily wound up a slave like Cassius, but Senator Valerius had taken him in and made him his heir. Brucius' parents had died while being robbed in a dirty back alley in Rome, close to the Coliseum, right before his eyes when he was just a child, so he understood devastating loss, too.
Cassius had happily taken up his new role of personal slave to the beautiful young Darius, including sharing his bed.
Not a hardship, Cassius thought with a little smile.
“C’mon, Cassius, play with me,” slurred Darius, spreading his legs and moving restlessly.
“Have you not had enough revelry for one night?” Cassius asked in amusement.
“Wanna love you.”
Cassius’ heart contracted. He picked Darius up and carried him over to the bed, the slender man light as a feather. He gently deposited him on the bed and was laughingly pulled down on top of Darius.
“My Champion,” Darius breathed, wrapping his acrobat’s legs around his slave’s waist.
Cassis smiled again. Here in Darius’ arms, he could forget the memories of his suffering and simply be happy. He bent down to kiss Darius, who threw his arms around his neck with a happy purr.