Pairings/Characters: (this chapter): Dick, Alfred, Clark/Bruce, Kevin M’Butu, Edmund Caldwell, Addison Atterby, Harrison Caldwell, Halliburton Caldwell, Brendan Murphy, Jonathan/Martha, Kathy Kane, Lana Lang
Series Notes: In the 23rd century, Earth is a technologically-advanced society that practices the ancient institution of slavery. New superheroes appear on the scene as the Abolitionist Movement gathers strength. Meanwhile, Lex gets his heart’s desire while long-held secrets begin to spill out of the Manor. Nothing will ever be the same again.
The entire series can be found here.
Genres: AU, Challenge, Drama, Slavefic
Challenge Category: Section E (Slavefic)
Rating: (this chapter): R
Warnings: Thoughts of mutilation, sexual sadism, whipping
Summary: The verdict is in, and sentence is pronounced upon Edmund Caldwell.
Date Of Completion (First Draft): November 24, 2009
Date Of Posting: April 21, 2011
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 1370
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author's Note: Written for my 2010 DCU Fic/Art Bondage Challenge.
Eleanora du Shay
Dick’s heart ached as he reviewed his escape plan: carry his stash of food and water, wearing clothing that would conceal his manacles and collar. Using some of the money Bruce paid him weekly, he would purchase a ticket on a shuttle to Moonbase Alpha, and from there board a passenger ship to the Marillion Sector, using false identity papers he had created. Once he reached the Sector, he could disappear, finding someone to remove his manacles and collar.
His family would be safe.
Dick checked his stash with blurry vision as tears streamed down his face. Using a tissue, he wiped his eyes. Everything in him did not want to go, but he had to.
All he needed was the right moment, but it had to be soon. Bruce could find the blackmailer but it might be too late. Dick had to get away and make it more plausible for Bruce to deny that he ever knew the truth, because Dick could not be the reason that Bruce lost his fortune and freedom, and Clark and Alfred confiscated and put on the block to end up God-knew-where.
Dick would face the torture rather than let that happen.
Today the jury was coming in and Bruce was attending, Clark was feeling under-the-weather and Alfred was busy baking apple pies. He could elude Security. He was Robin, after all!
Another pang went through him. Not only was he leaving his family, he was giving up Robin as well.
Startled, Dick looked up. “Yes, Alfred?”
“Will you go down to the root cellar and get me the strawberry preserves and then go check on Clark? I think I’ll tempt him with some strawberry tarts and see if that will improve his appetite.”
Tears prickled Dick’s eyes as he searched for the preserves. The root cellar was cool and dark. It smelled of all good things, of strawberries and blackberries and apples, of potatoes and rutabagas and Rigellian tubers.
He would miss this place: the root cellar, his room, the gardens, the Manor itself. Once he left, he would be back to wandering as he had done with the circus, but he considered this his home now.
He would miss the sound of the ocean, the way the dew sparkled in the gardens early in the morning, the glory of the trees in autumn, the smell of apple pies backing in the warm kitchen as snow fell outside the windows.
He would miss Alfred’s unflappable warmth and Clark’s gentle caring and Bruce’s patient understanding.
He would miss their love.
He realized that he was woolgathering and hurried upstairs with the preserves.
“Thank you, Dick.”
“I’ll go check on Clark.”
Dick took the grand staircase steps two at a time, trying to calm his racing heart.
This is stupid. I’ve faced worse things as Robin. Why am I am worried about going on the road?
Dick sighed. He knew why. Being Robin was something special, and fit in with his life.
Going on the road was risky when you were an escaped slave.
Stomach turning, Dick quietly entered the master bedroom.
Clark was sleeping, the antique quilt keeping him warm. He did not seem to be in any distress, though he had been suffering from dizzy spells and Bruce had decided it was safer that he remain in bed.
Dick gently touched his friend’s hair. He was worried about him and how he seemed to be getting sicker more often. He hoped it was only a bad patch.
His heart ached as he gazed down at Clark.
The phone rang downstairs and a few minutes later, Alfred called, “For you, Dick.”
Dick took one last look at Clark and hurried downstairs.
“Thanks, Alfred.” Dick took the phone and said, “Hello? Oh, hi, Roy!” Alfred returned to the kitchen. “What’s up?” Dick listened for a minute, sad that he was going to leave his friend, too. “Yeah, sure, I’ll ask Bruce. We can get together next week if he says yes. Okay, see you then.”
Dick hung up the phone. Of course he did not have to ask for permission to go to the play with Roy in Star City.
He wasn’t going to be around.
The jury filed into the courtroom and the bailiff handed the judge the verdict on a slip of paper. M’Butu looked at it, his face impassive. Edmund and his lawyers stood.
“Ladies and gentlemen, how do you find on the count of grand larceny of a slave?”
“We find the defendant…guilty.”
Only a slight murmur ran around the room. Everyone had expected that. Edmund had admitted his guilt. It was up to Kevin M’Butu now.
“Edmund Caldwell, I order you to pay a fine…”
Caldwell’s supporters relaxed.
“…and to serve the maximum sentence of six months…”
This time exclamations of disbelief and outrage burst out, someone crying, “No!” Addison immediately began to talk about options to Edmund, who looked like he wanted to strangle the judge. M’Butu pounded his gavel.
“Quiet, or I’ll clear the courtroom!” M’Butu set aside the gavel and folded his hands, leaning forward slightly. “As I was saying, you will serve the maximum sentence of six months…in the form of probation, taking into consideration your age and station. You will report to a parole officer once a week and your case will be reviewed in three months.”
M’Butu banged the gavel a final time and left the courtroom. Harrison and Halliburton tried to talk to their father, who brushed them off angrily. He did the same to Addison, who backed off.
Bruce, Brendan, Martha and Jonathan congratulated each other as the hubbub swelled all around them.
“I would have preferred actual prison time, but it’s a start,” Jonathan said after hugging his wife.
“Agreed.” Bruce smiled as Kathy came over to help celebrate with them and Lana.
Edmund seethed. He was in his study, his terrified slaves scattering as he had cut a swath through the house, his cane leaving its mark on vulnerable flesh.
How dare those cretins recommend he serve prison time! That bitch Kathy Kane had been very persuasive. Pity he couldn’t snap a collar on her and drag her down to the dungeon.
The humiliation! The first man of his station to be sentenced for stealing a slave, probation or not.
He needed to humiliate someone else.
He summoned his head of security. The freeman stood in front of him waiting orders.
“Every slave is to strip and assume the proper position in the foyer. I shall choose two males and two females. Each one shall be tied to a bed spread-eagled and ball-gagged. Ask my butler to set out my toy chests in each room.”
“Not the dungeon, sir?”
The security man nodded and departed. Good man. He’d allow him the use of the little slut with the nice ass and scar on her arm for a night. The whore had a talented mouth.
No, not the dungeon. The stupid whores probably expected to lose a limb or two tonight. Let them think that. Their fear would smell sweet.
No limb loss…at least not tonight.
No, he’d choose the slut who resembled the Prize of Bruce’s and as his whip flayed him raw, fantasize that it was the Prize, but first, he’d have the slut suck him off, just like Bruce’s Prize had done. Then he’d whip him, fuck him, and order the other slaves released after their imaginations had gotten them in a panic and give them to the guards. A dozen guards would be well-satisfied with the three of them, and his slut? He’d tie him to the statue in the foyer and allow the guards to use him, too, come morning.
Satisfied with his plan, Edmund was about to go to the foyer when he received a message from his butler.
“This came for you when you were in the city, sir.”
Edmund opened the pale yellow envelope.
If you want to bring down the House Of Wayne, meet me at the same spot tomorrow at midnight.