Pairings/Characters: (this chapter): Clark/Bruce
Series Notes: In the 23rd century, Earth is a technologically-advanced society that practices the ancient institution of slavery. The wealthy freeman Bruce Wayne acquires a highly-prized pleasure slave whom has fallen in love with him…but can the Prince of Gotham ever return that love? And will it all be moot as a weak abolitionist movement slowly gathers strength while the Galactic Empire remains in a perpetual state of Cold War? The entire series can be found here.
Categories: Drama, AU
Rating: (this chapter): NC-17
Summary: Clark’s new knowledge is exhilarating.
Date Of Completion (First Draft): March 19, 2007
Date Of Posting: August 6, 2007
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 1479
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
I was feeling
Small and weak,
Then he appeared,
Dark and sleek.
He took me,
Hard and strong,
Joy was mine,
My heart’s song.
“My Soul Possessed”
Clark looked around in fascinated shock. This was the Batcave that the media speculated about!
A small smile spread across his face as he slowly walked around the Cave, looking in awe at the equipment. The Batplane loomed lean and dark and sleek in its hangar.
Like Bruce, Clark thought with a chuckle.
Often in his head he would use his Master’s name, and now it looked as if he would have to be adding ‘Batman’ to his repertoire.
He stood before the giant trophies, resolving to research the cases that had involved such items. He wandered over to the computer, careful not to touch anything. He shivered slightly as a cold breeze swept through the Cave. He hugged himself, wishing for that fire he had thought of earlier.
It all makes sense. The Batman would need money to have all these gadgets, and Wayne money is certainly plentiful. Batman protects Gotham, and the Waynes have been the guardians of Gotham for generations.
Excitement thrilled through his veins. His wish to meet the Batman had come true!
Clark turned in a full circle, soaking it all in…then stopped.
Bruce had kept this a secret from him. He didn’t want him to know. Didn’t Bruce trust him?
Hurt laced through him. He rubbed his arms as another cold breeze pierced his robe.
Uncertain of what to do, he stared at the blank computer screen.
The roar of a powerful engine snapped him into action. He ran to the stairs, melting back into the shadows. The long, sleek lines of the Batmobile came into view as it emerged from the tunnel. It came to a stop, purring its power through the darkness of the Cave. The engine was cut, silence descending as the door of the car opened.
Out strode the Bat.
Clark was riveted as the black cape swirled around the dread Batman as he stalked to the computer.
The man moved more like a cat than a bat, all lithe, fluid grace underlined with power. Whether as Bruce Wayne or Batman, the man in that cowl would always command.
Batman booted up the computer, a schematic of Gotham flashing on the screen. He tapped the keys, then turned.
Clark shrank back. He waited with a pounding heart to be discovered, but after five minutes of agonized anticipation he ventured a peek.
The Cave was devoid of the Bat. Puzzled, Clark stepped out form the shadows.
He heard the sound of water running. A…shower?
That made sense. Batman would have to clean up after a hard night of crimefighting.
Clark took the opportunity to hurry back up the steps, hissing as a wave of dizziness hit him. He couldn’t fall! Grimly he clung to the damp wall, then continued on, reaching the clock. Slipping out quietly he closed the case, wincing at the faint jangling sound, but he managed to climb the grand staircase without meeting a curious Alfred.
Good, he’s still asleep.
He realized he had to get ready. Bruce would be upstairs soon, expecting his bedslave to fulfill his primary duty. Head awhirl with dizziness and new knowledge, he hurried into the master bedroom, stripping off his robe and kicking off his slippers. Sliding beneath the black silk sheets, he rested his head on the pillow.
It wasn’t even ten minutes later when Bruce entered the bedroom, still fresh from the shower. There were nights when he said he did a quick work-out after working, therefore the shower was explainable, as there was a shower room off the gymnasium.
Clark knew that he would be looking back over a lot of things and matching those things up, but right now his heart was racing at the thought of having sex with the Batman.
“Good evening, Master.”
Bruce seemed pleased that Clark was awake. “Good evening yourself.” He was charged with energy, and Clark realized why now. No simple work-out could draw that energy out of him, but flying over the rooftops of Gotham would.
“Come to bed, Master,” Clark said softly, holding out his hand.
Bruce was amused at his slave’s forwardness but took the hand and climbed into the bed, leaning forward into a deep kiss. Clark unbuttoned Bruce’s robe, slipping it off his shoulders and helping him get it off completely. He was being bold and he knew it, but his Master didn’t object.
Clark blew lightly over Bruce’s nipples, delighted at the other man’s shiver. Bruce cupped the back of his head and urged Clark’s head closer, Clark talking the hint and suckling a stiff-peaked nipple. Bruce groaned, holding Clark close as his slave pleasured him.
Clark moved to the other nipple, his hands sliding up Bruce’s back. The scars were completely explainable now. Faint due to the miracle of healing cream, he wondered how vicious they were originally.
Oddly, he felt a rush of protectiveness. Surely Batman didn’t need the protection of a bedslave, but that didn’t matter. If Bruce needed him, he would be there for him…somehow, someway, manacles or not.
I love you.
He allowed himself the thought as he tenderly slipped his lips along warm skin, mapping every inch of Bruce’s chest, sliding down to smell the muskiness of his groin. His tongue began tasting the column of flesh jutting out from dark curls. Clark hummed softly as he licked and tasted, delighted in Bruce’s squirming. He smiled as his head was pushed down, urging him to do more. Clark didn’t need to be a skilled sex slave to understand what his Master wanted.
He engulfed the pulsing flesh, Bruce’s hips jerking. Clark used his skills and soon had his Master begging for release, Bruce’s fingers entangled in his hair. Bruce uttered a cry and spilled his seed down Clark’s throat, the slave happy that he had pleasured his Master.
Not to mention the Batman.
The thought hardened him instantly. Cape porn, he groaned, wishing that he could let Bruce know that he knew his secret. Bruce’s fingers were already working his erection, his own seed spilling over his Master’s hand.
“Mmm, eager tonight,” Bruce said in an amused tone.
“Always, Master,” Clark said as he looked up with teasing adoration in his eyes.
Bruce snorted, lightly tugging on Clark’s hair. “Up, Jewel Of My Heart.”
Clark’s heart triphammered. If only that could be true!
Bruce cleaned them up with the tissues he kept on the nightstand, then Clark curled up around Bruce, nuzzling and nipping.
“You are frisky tonight.”
Clark was all over his Master, tasting and licking as he wanted all of Bruce. Bruce’s body was responding again until he finally growled, “Turn over.”
Clark excitedly obeyed. He moaned as Bruce prepared him, wanting this so much…
Bruce eased into him, filling Clark with pleasure. His hands caressed Clark’s shoulders, back, and hips, coming to rest on the buttocks that could drive a man crazy.
And that was when Clark sensed a change. From gentle-yet-firm Master, the man taking his pleasure became quiet.
That stillness filled the room, watching, waiting…
The Bat was here.
Excitement ran through Clark’s body as, slowly, the Dark Knight took him, savage yet precise, pleasure humming through him as the rustle of black silk sheets sounded like the long, black cape of the man in the mask.
Clark didn’t fear the Bat, as silent and closed-off as he could be, because the Batman was part of Bruce, the man he loved. The Batman could string him up in the Batcave and have his way with him and Clark would still be happy.
Maybe he could bend me over the Batmobile.
His cock twitched as Batman made one final thrust, spilling into him with scorching seed, hands gripping his hips so hard that bruises would form. Clark came an instant later, both men panting as Bruce collapsed on top of him, his breath tickling Clark’s hair.
The Batman was gone.
“Mmm,” Bruce purred, moving over his slave’s body. He tightened his arms around him, sealing them together. He rested his head on Clark’s shoulder.
Clark’s breathing returned to normal. He relaxed, Bruce’s weight not too uncomfortable.
They remained entwined, then Bruce gently slid out of his slave and said, “Clean us up.”
Clark obeyed, his touch gentle and thorough as he used the washcloth from the bathroom. When he was finished he climbed back into bed, Bruce wrapping his arms around him and pulling him close.
Clark smiled. Bruce was becoming a cuddler more every night. He hoped that the cold metal of his slave jewelry would not rouse Bruce. His Master was already falling asleep.
Clark slipped his arms around Bruce and allowed himself to drift off, too.