Pairings/Characters: (this chapter): Clark/Bruce, Alfred
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): PG-13
Summary: Preparations for the Halloween Week house party begin at Wayne Manor.
Date Of Completion (First Draft): March 29, 2007
Date Of Posting: August 21, 2007
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 1460
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
“A slave is always
of his Master.”
A Guideline For Slaves
Bruce had to be insane.
Otherwise why would he have invited not only his old friends Lex Luthor and Ollie Queen for what constituted a week-long house party, but had cheerfully included Air Force majors Hal Jordan and Steve Trevor?
As the abolitionist convention had folded up and left town, many more people were coming into Gotham for a week-long celebration of Halloween. As Bruce gathered up papers to put in his briefcase, he pondered such a scene: he rarely entertained here at the Manor, preferring to do so in public for balls and banquets and the charitable endeavors. He liked his privacy, and there was the little matter of his other life. Batman might not be able to do regular patrols this week, and having so many people in the house made accidental discovery a problem.
Yet he was obliged as Lord of Wayne Manor to offer hospitality to his friends. Allowing them to book hotel rooms when he had all this space was insulting. Ollie had requested the inclusion of the majors.
Bruce sighed as he walked to the kitchen. Halloween was his busiest time of year as Batman, too. Oh, well, there was no help for it.
“Good morning, Master Bruce.”
“Good morning, Alfred.” Bruce smiled at Clark, who was already seated at the breakfast table. “Alfred, I want you to start training Clark for formal service. I know it’s short notice…”
“Not a problem, sir. Clark is a quick study.”
Clark cocked his head. “Formal service, sir?”
“Yes.” Bruce sat down and poured syrup over his blueberry pancakes. “You will have to assist Alfred in serving our guests. That means you have to know the proper conduct.”
“Oh.” Clark suddenly smiled. “Majors Trevor and Jordan are coming?”
Bruce laughed. “Yes.” He reached over and grasped Clark’s chin, tilting his head up. “Your eye is healing nicely.” Bruce grimaced. “I hope they won’t think I’m beating my slave up with the bruises on your arms showing, faint as they are now.”
Clark nuzzled the hand that now cupped his cheek. “Wouldn’t that drive your stock up?” His tone was teasing.
Bruce smirked. “Maybe.” He caressed Clark’s face. “Some might find it amusing but others know I don’t mistreat slaves.” He allowed amusement into his voice. “Isn’t that right, Alfred?”
“More likely you drive them to distraction, sir.”
Clark’s eyes twinkled as he and Alfred exchanged smiles. Bruce shook his head. Outnumbered!
“Our guests will be here in a few days. Each man should get his own room. I don’t think that Lex or Ollie are bringing slaves, whether for their beds or not. I highly doubt Majors Trevor or Jordan will bring any, but if any of our guests do, they will let us know.”
“Very good, sir.”
Bruce gave Clark one last caress, then left for the city.
“Now, Clark, you will be at the Master’s guests’ beck-and-call. Anything they request you will provide.” Clark nodded. “You will be helping me serve formal dinner. As for breakfast and luncheon, Master Bruce will decide if you are to join him or serve. More than likely he will have you serve if the meal is at home, and you will accompany him outside the Manor and partake with the guests as well.
“When you serve before-dinner hors d’oeuvres, you shall never meet the eyes of the guests unless asked a question. You address them as ‘sir’ or ‘my liege’. If they direct you to address them differently, you do so, or if Master Bruce tells you.”
Alfred began clearing away the breakfast dishes and Clark jumped up to help.
“You must always comport yourself as to reflect favorably on the Master. Clark…” Alfred hesitated “…he may ask you to do things he has not before.”
A little shiver ran through Clark. “Such as…?”
“Such as requiring you to kneel at his feet, or to perform acts that are required of a pleasure slave.”
“Do you…do you mean…unclothed?” Clark felt a blush burn his face.
“Possibly.” Alfred filled the turbowash with the plates and cups, turning the machine on. “However, I am highly doubtful that Master Bruce will require nudity, though you must be ready if he so desires it. Often a young Master like Lord Wayne will be quite protective of a bedslave in public, but in a more intimate setting, he will wish to show his pride in you as his Prized Possession.”
Clark felt a mixture of emotions: pride in Bruce’s pride in him; anxiety over making a misstep in front of his Master’s guests; a wish that he could be more than a possession to Bruce, prized or not.
“At least you won’t be loaned out.” Alfred began making a list of groceries for all the meals he would have to serve this week. “In another Master’s hands, he could offer you to each man, one per night, or multiple partners in one night if that were their desires.”
Clark shook slightly as he grabbed a dustcloth. “I…I’ll get busy dusting the halls.” He left the kitchen quickly.
Alfred regretted getting so explicit, but it was his duty to spell these things out for the young man. Despite Master Bruce’s kindness, he still owned them and expected obedience. The young Master was also a proud man. If he believed ordering Clark to do something would befit his status as the Lord of the Manor, he would do it.
Though it was highly unlikely he would order anything to humiliate Clark.
Alfred turned on the radio as he worked on his list. Five people to serve three times a day for nearly a week, and he had to figure in food for himself and Clark. The wine cellar took care of alcoholic beverages, but there was soda and water to supply.
Alfred wrote for a few minutes, listening to the classical music from the radio.
Alfred knew that Clark had brought a brightness to the house, captivating his young Master. Bruce had never indicated that he wanted a pleasure slave. In fact, he had involved himself with hardly anyone over the years, all because of the Mission.
Master Bruce coming home that day not so long ago with a beautiful slave in tow had surprised him, but he believed it was a good thing after all.
And he took his duties as mentor to Clark very seriously. It was a good idea that Clark had an idea of what might be required of him. In Alfred’s experience, it was best if a slave wasn’t surprised by what his Master might order him to do. Yes, best to be prepared.
“The Flash foiled a robbery attempt in Central City an hour ago, witnesses describing the familiar scarlet-and-gold blur as the speedster disarmed the gunmen.
“Congress continues to debate the Branding Bill, with tempers hot as both sides present their cases.
“In other news, Rigel IV announced their highest Gross Planetary Product since the formation of the Empire. Prosperity continues to rise throughout the Known Worlds. An Economic Summit is planned for next spring on Thanagar.
“Finally, in local news, revelers are streaming into Gotham City for the week-long events surrounding Halloween. Included is the opening of the Egyptian exhibit at the Gotham Art Museum on Wednesday.”
& & & & & &
Alfred was in his glory. The Manor was sparkling, the freezer and refrigerator fully-stocked, the silverware polished. Clark had helped with all these tasks as Alfred continued his training.
Clark absorbed everything, eager to make Bruce proud and to contribute beyond what he was able to do between the sheets. He wanted as much respect as a slave could possibly get, even if it was only a modicum.
Alfred even tutored him on his wardrobe. He would not be required to wear a butler’s uniform but he could not appear too casual. The proper clothes were all set out for him and Clark was grateful. He did not want to commit any major faux pas.
He was dressed and ready on the Monday when the guests were due to arrive. Bruce inspected him with approval and handed him his dark glasses.
As Clark slipped them on, Bruce said, “You are beautiful, my Prize.” He lifted Clark’s chin, pride shining from his eyes.
Clark smiled, a pink blush spreading over his cheeks. Bruce winked and left the bedroom, Clark right behind him.
Downstairs Bruce accepted his jacket from Alfred and headed out to his limousine with Brendan behind the wheel. Alfred touched Clark’s arm.
“We need to prepare the dining room.”
Clark nodded and followed the butler down the hall.
Halloween Week at Wayne Manor had begun.