Pairings/Characters: (this chapter): Clark/Bruce, Hal/Steve, Elias Stark, Dax Mantell, Harvey Dent, Lex Luthor, Ollie Queen
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: The Master/slave dynamic dominates the second day and evening of Halloween Week.
Date Of Completion (First Draft): April 28, 2007
Date Of Posting: September 11, 2007
Disclaimer: I don’t own 'em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 1905 + 2282 (Total: 4187)
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
“Is there anything more pathetic or ridiculous
than a Master falling in love with his slave?”
Professor Reed Martin
“The Master/Slave Dynamic”
The Manor guests were delighted with the fully-equipped gym on the estate. Each man rose early to take advantage of it, Bruce and Clark joining them. Clark continued to wear the dark glasses, Bruce willing to reveal his name but not his entire face.
Clark was happy to hear that he was going along with Bruce for the meeting. He enjoyed taking notes and typing up a report. Bruce had been impressed by the clear, concise writing, and Clark was thrilled to show talents beyond the bedroom.
“I don’t just bake pies, you know,” Clark had said with a twinkle.
Bruce had noticed how happy Clark was lately, and it pleased him, not just because sulky slaves tried his patience but because he liked to see Clark happy.
Clark should be happy.
So Bruce teasingly told Clark to shower alone, otherwise they would never be ready to leave.
Everyone was ready and waiting in the foyer as Brendan pulled the limousine up to the front door. Hal and Steve were in uniform, and all the men carried briefcases, including Clark, who carried an electronic clipboard, paper, and stylus in his case.
The six men piled into the limousine, Brendan getting the word that he should expect a late call from Hal and Steve.
“We’re going to catch the Amazon exhibit at the Museum,” Hal said. “We’re not sure if we’ll have dinner in town after.”
“Perfectly fine. Brendan will be ready no matter when you call.”
Hal grinned and settled back beside Steve. “I like the life of the rich and privileged.”
Bruce laughed. “Yes, you can get used to it.”
In the city, there were even more crowds, mainly in Knickerbocker Square and the Arts District, but downtown was colorful, too, with beaded and feathered costume-wearers cavorting with street musicians and performance artists.
Once at Wayne Enterprises, they settled quickly into the meeting. Bruce didn’t ask for a vote on Clark’s attendance this time. If anyone wished to change their vote, they could speak up. Clark sat in the corner, ready to take notes.
General Elias Stark called the meeting to order, his salt-and-pepper hair bristling in a crewcut. Buttons gleaming on his uniform, he cut an impressive figure.
“All right, gentlemen, let’s go around the room and report on production.”
Everyone seemed to be on schedule. In fact, Dax Mantell reported that the Rigellians were slightly ahead of schedule. After Dax’s report, he sat down, glancing appreciatively at Clark, who tried not to show his discomfort as Harvey Dent smirked next to Dax.
Bruce noticed the little exchange and frowned.
This time if Harvey asks for a taste, he’ll get a ‘no’. Only one per customer.
Bruce detailed his company’s production, which was right on time. When he finished, he sat down and opened a bottle of water, drinking and smiling at Clark, who smiled back and made a thumbs-up gesture.
Bruce tried to keep his concentration on the dry statistics, his mind drifting to last night’s incredibly hot sex. He grinned and put the bottle to his lips to hide it.
Maybe a few chains will work again tonight. Hmm, on his back or his stomach? Always spread-eagled, open and ready for me to come home and take him, hot and hard…
Bruce deliberately spilled some water on his arm. He needed to cool down! Otherwise he was going to be embarrassed if had to stand up again.
After the reports were done, Lex asked, “Any more Rim incidents, General?”
“No, thank God.”
“What about the breeding farms?” asked Harvey.
“Nothing further on that.”
“The Hunt?” Dax inquired.
Stark smiled. “Going well.”
Lex was disgruntled. Bruce knew that he preferred control of the Kryptonians rather than this eradication. Bruce didn’t care so much about the control issue, but the eradication bothered him. The Kryptonians were a handsome, intelligent race. Surely something besides annihilation could be done? Maybe Lex’s idea of control wasn’t such a bad idea if it kept them alive.
& & & & & &
During a break, Clark stretched his legs. He was safe here at Wayne Enterprises. No one would dare touch him when they realized who he was.
His mind was busy typing up his report from the meeting so far when a wave of dizziness hit him. Before he knew it, he was sitting on the floor, a wave of nausea curdling his stomach. He closed his eyes, dropping his head back against the wall. It was the day before his shot and he had been lucky so far until this moment as to symptoms.
Some weeks are better than others.
With a shaking hand, he wiped sweat off his brow.
“Are you all right, ka’tare?”
The Rigellian accent clenched his stomach. He kept his head bowed, biting his lip as he tried to control his nervousness. The word used was ‘whore’ in Rigellian.
Then a realization hit his fogged brain. Dax Mantell had placed the emphasis on the second syllable with the pronunciation ka-ta-ray. If he had emphasized the first syllable (kat-a-ray), the word would mean someone paid or enslaved for sex, someone who spread their legs on command, an object of contempt and derision.
The second syllable emphasis meant a slave or free concubine used for sex, but the highest quality of skill and intelligence, treasured and cherished by the owner/patron.
Clark looked up. “I…just had a dizzy spell, m’katel.”
Dax’s expression registered his pleased approval. Clark had used the form of address in the Rigellian language that acknowledged his understanding of the term. His trainer had taught him well.
Dax was crouched in front of him, violet eyes suddenly regretful. A slender man, he balanced easily on the balls of his feet. Amethyst streaked his dark hair. “I am sorry that you were subject to the worst my people have to offer. We are an ancient race, and we are skilled at the slave trade, but the slavers who hunt and trap…they aren’t the best representatives of Rigel.” He smiled. “Some of us appreciate the best of the quality.” He cocked his head. “I understand that Humans don’t always…appreciate…the layers of complexity a quality ka’tare can offer.”
“My Master appreciates me.”
“Of course. Bruce is high quality himself, of the free classes, naturally.” Dax’s eyes were suddenly soft. “If you ever need anything, I am always willing to assist a ka’tare.”
Clark felt a little better, his dizziness and nausea gone for now.
Dax hadn’t touched him, as he had no permission from Bruce, but now he said, “I am going to touch you in assistance.”
Clark nodded. He was going to need help to stand.
As Dax’s hand reached out, Clark suddenly rubbed his cheek in the open palm. Dax had respected him, and now he was giving Dax respect in return. Clark heard the Rigellian’s intake of breath.
“A Prize, indeed.”
Dax helped Clark to his feet. He stayed close in case Clark felt woozy again, only separating from him when they approached the conference room.
& & & & & &
The meeting concluded at one o’clock, and Stark directed them back tomorrow. Bruce invited his houseguests to lunch and they accepted.
Bruce decided that The Country Kitchen would be the most comfortable for his guests.
They were shown a corner table by owner George Standish. After the orders were taken, they settled into talk, careful to keep their voices low when discussing certain topics. The place was noisy with lunchtime diners, but it never hurt to be careful.
“I don’t like the way the general keeps sidestepping the breeding farms issue,” Lex said. “And the Hunt is ridiculous. What a waste.”
“Well, the factions are pretty clear in military and Gov circles,” Hal said. “Right now those who favor eradication have the upper hand.”
Lex tapped his fingers on the table. Bruce recognized the signs, his eyes sparkling in amusement. “You’re still trying to figure out a way to control the Kryptonians’ power?”
“Yes, they’d make magnificent Warriors.” Lex sighed, a smile curving his lips. “Just think of all that power under your command, your very fingertips, in your bed…”
Bruce shivered. It was a strong aphrodisiac, the thought of such power under one’s control.
He glanced at Clark, who was quietly eating his salad.
“Tempting, indeed, Lex, but I’m quite satisfied with what I have in my bed right now. More than satisfied, in fact.”
Bruce smiled at the pink flush of Clark’s cheeks at the words.
“You’re right, Bruce. Your ka’tare is magnificence itself.”
The other diners were engaged in conversation and missed the low voice. Bruce turned around in his chair. “Hello, Dax.”
Bruce noticed that Clark was still relaxed. Usually he was tense around the Rigellian. “Is Harvey with you?” This time there was tension.
“No, I’m meeting friends here.” Dax’s hand rested on the back of Clark’s chair but Clark didn’t flinch.
“You’re right about my Prize, Dax.” Bruce understood the meaning and pronunciation of the word that Dax had used.
Dax’s violet eyes sparkled with amusement. “May I speak freely?”
Bruce recognized the Rigellian euphemism. ‘Freely’ meant ‘explicitly’.
“Sure,” he said, curious to hear his colleague’s ideas.
Dax leaned forward and whispered, “When your ka’tare parts his legs for you, his flawless skin gleaming with sweat from your passion, his mouth swollen from your kisses and ready to take your cock, are you not a Master of a Jewel of Great Price?”
Bruce’s cock twitched. Licking his lips, he said steadily, “Yes.”
Amusement laced Dax’s voice. “What if you commanded him to disrobe right now, go to his knees, rub his face against your groin…?”
Bruce bit back a moan.
Dax smiled as he withdrew, winking at a flushed Bruce. “Thank you for allowing me to speak…freely…Bruce.”
“My ka’tare and I thank you.”
Dax chuckled as he moved to join his friends at another table.
Bruce turned back around, glad that no one had noticed his conversation.
Well, almost no one.
“Master, would you like my glass of water?”
Bruce looked at his own empty glass. “Yes, thank you.” He needed to cool down somehow.
Clark’s small smile delighted Bruce. So his Prize had heard! Bruce’s mind raced to the evening ahead.
& & & & & &
End of Part 1