Pairings/Characters: (this chapter): Clark/Bruce, Ollie Queen, Hal/Steve, Lex Luthor
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: Bruce discovers an ally.
Date Of Completion (First Draft): May 10, 2007
Date Of Posting: September 27, 2007
Disclaimer: I don’t own 'em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 1272 + 1719 (Total: 2991)
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
The Bat’s wings
Slipped like silk,
The Freedom Chronicles
Once back at the Manor, everyone set about their tasks after dinner. When their business was completed, Bruce’s guests decided to turn in early. There would be little sleep the next few nights, so extra rest sounded good.
Bruce went out on patrol, searching for the Joker. He hadn’t chained Clark, preferring to lessen his distractions.
He slipped through the worst parts of town, shaking down snitches and letting his presence be known, but the Joker was nowhere to be found.
Batman grimaced as he alighted on a rooftop overlooking Knickerbocker Square.
“Are you still in town?”
Green Arrow laughed. “You’re really not very sociable, are you?”
The archer grinned. “Good thing I have enough joviality for both of us, then.”
Batman snorted. His cape billowed out behind him as a cold wind blew.
The silence stretched out between them, but oddly enough it wasn’t awkward. Batman took the opportunity to observe his colleague. Green Arrow seemed alert, his bow at the ready as he watched the revelers down below, one bent leg up on the edge of the roof.
Bruce frowned. Something about the posture reminded him of someone.
“Pickpocket!” came a cry from below.
Bruce broke out of his reverie. “Only one?” Green Arrow nodded. “Let’s go.”
The two of them followed the thief as he slipped into an alley. Batman was disappointed that it wasn’t the Joker. He disliked that psychopath running around loose, especially when his own distraction had allowed it.
Green Arrow selected an arrow from his quiver and set the bow. He let the arrow go, the shaft burying itself in the thief’s shoulder, the man crying out as he fell.
“Tranquilizer,” Arrow said.
They descended to the dirty alley, Green Arrow removing his equipment and replacing it into the quiver. Batman hauled the numb miscreant to his feet.
“He’ll be out for a little while.”
“Mmm,” Batman draped the thief over a garbage can. “I see a policeman.”
Batman strode to the end of the alley, startling a patrolman. The officer followed Gotham’s protector, eyes widening at the sight of Green Arrow.
“All yours, Officer,” rasped Batman.
The heroes left the alley via grapple lines and Batman said, “Handy equipment.”
& & & & & &
The rest of the evening passed with Batman and Green Arrow making two more collars. They parted in the wee hours of the morning, Batman swooping away as Green Arrow watched him go.
& & & & & &
Bruce put away his costume and headed upstairs. He wore a black turtleneck sweater and blue jeans, his sneakered feet quiet on the damp stone steps. He reached the top step behind the grandfather clock, opening it a crack.
He strained to hear them and eventually recognized Steve’s voice…and Clark’s?
What was Clark doing out of bed? Was something wrong?
Bruce listened as he realized the voices were coming closer, their owners stopping right outside the library. Damnit! Now he was stuck in the drafty passageway.
He grew impatient. What was Steve doing up? Didn’t he go to bed early like the others?
“Sorry, I guess I just got this craving for some of that leftover apple pie.”
“That is a specialty of Alfred’s.”
Steve laughed. “You’re right! Would you like some?”
“I…yes, I would.”
The voices moved off and Bruce inched the clock door out. The library was empty.
He quickly slipped out of the clock and closed it, holding it tight to minimize any jangling. He checked the hall and strolled out and up the stairs.
& & & & & &
Steve insisted that Clark sit down while he served them both. He cut two pieces of pie and set the plates on the kitchen table, adding glasses of buttermilk. He sat down and picked up a fork.
“I hope I’m not making you uncomfortable. I don’t always know Master/slave protocol. I grew up in a middle-class household where there were definitely no slaves.”
“No, eating with freemen is allowed.” Clark smiled slightly.
“Good.” Steve took a bite. “I usually don’t eat after I’ve gone to bed, but I woke up with a growling stomach.” He looked sheepish.
Clark laughed. “Well, there’s plenty of food here. Master Bruce would be pleased that you felt comfortable enough to partake.”
“What about Alfred?”
Clark chuckled. “That might be a different story.” He waved his hand. “Alfred’s the Master of this kitchen.” His lips curved into a smile. Steve guessed that his eyes were sparkling behind those dark glasses. “He’s probably Master of this house as well.”
Steve laughed. “You’re right.”
Steve had never felt completely comfortable around slaves, not exactly thrilled with the concept of owning sentient beings. He had little contact with them growing up in his school and neighborhood, but the military had brought him into closer contact. Slaves were used as foot soldiers and required training from their superiors. Steve had trained as a pilot but part of his officer’s training had obligated him to train slave soldiers.
Slave soldiers! More like cannon fodder.
Images of battle flashed through his head and he dropped his fork.
“Are you all right, Major?”
Steve picked up the fork. “Just a little tired.”
“Ah. It is late.”
Steve nodded as he slowly finished his pie. He watched Clark’s beautiful fingers manipulate the fork and glass. Bruce Wayne was a lucky bastard. This bedslave of his was beautiful, shy and intelligent.
They chatted for a few minutes more, then Steve said, “Thank you for keeping me company.”
“My pleasure, Major.”
Steve collected the plates and silverware. “Go on up to bed. You must be tired.”
& & & & & &
Clark walked into the bedroom and stopped as he saw his Master pacing. Bruce whirled around, a frown on his face.
“Close the door.”
Clark obeyed, then stood waiting.
Bruce’s arms were crossed as he approached his slave. “You know.”
Clark’s eyes widened. “Yes, Master.”
“How long have you known?”
“For the past two weeks.”
Bruce’s frown deepened. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Clark tried to stop the rapid pounding of his heart by taking a deep breath. “I…I thought you must have had a good reason not to tell me. I…I haven’t told anyone, Master, not even Alfred. I mean, I figure he knows, but I didn’t tell him that I know.” He added hopefully, “It was accidental, Master. I stumbled against the clock…”
Bruce started pacing again. Clark waited with nervous anticipation, twisting his hands in front of him.
Bruce stopped in front of Clark, his midnight-blue eyes searching Clark’s face after removing his slave’s glasses. Clark waited, steeling himself to accept any punishment that his Master deemed necessary. He had felt guilty about keeping the secret. He shouldn’t keep secrets from his Master.
“It’s okay.” Bruce’s tense posture relaxed. “You didn’t actively seek this out. And you told no one.” He cocked his head with a slight smile. “Good save tonight.”
Pride blossomed in Clark’s chest. “I’d heard someone go downstairs and I knew you were still out. I was worried that Steve might catch you, so I went downstairs, too.”
Bruce reached out and ran his finger down the side of Clark’s face. “Brains and beauty.”
Clark blushed but eagerly accepted his Beloved’s words, taking them and storing them away in his heart. If someday he should be deprived of this, he wanted the memories to be as clear and precious as jewels on a summer’s morn so that he could take them out and enjoy them if his life grew cold and lonely.
Bruce’s fingers cupped his jaw. “So now you know the Bat lives here.”
A little shiver of excitement ran through Clark. “Yes, Master.”
The transformation awed him as he watched his kind and generous Master’s face set, his midnight-blue eyes growing hard and glittering. A rasping voice came out of his mouth as fingers entwined in his hair.
Clark went to his knees, a slight trembling in his limbs as his head was pushed forward, his face pressed against his Master’s groin.
No, the Batman’s.
He breathed in the musky-scent, rubbing his cheek against the growing bulge in the Batman’s pants. Clark opened the clasp with his teeth, the rustling of cloth and a little help from the Dark Knight springing forth a very ready cock.
Clark licked the drops of pre-cum from the swollen head, the salty taste sliding down his throat. The cock brushed against his lips, then pushed into his mouth as he began to suck, sensing the power of the man standing over him. Without conscious thought he crossed his wrists behind his back, his robe opening to reveal smooth flesh.
Like a great dark cape, he felt a sense of protection as the Bat filled his mouth, his heart…his soul.
He swallowed the seed that was so familiar to him, the silken folds of the Bat’s cape falling around him protectively.
How poetic, Clark thought, the imaginary cape making him feel safe.
The cock slipped out of his mouth and he was pulled up by the hair, the Bat’s mouth crushing his as possession was taken and re-asserted. He stumbled slightly, strong hands keeping him upright as his mouth was plundered.
The kiss was broken and his robe was stripped off. He quickly kicked off his slippers and was shoved back onto the bed, his Master removing his clothes and looming over him with a dark majesty that excited Clark.
He groaned as his dark lover lay full-length on top of him, devouring his mouth again as their groins ground together. He tried to catch his breath but the Bat was relentless, taking every breath.
When they broke apart, Clark was gasping, then moaned as his nipples were tweaked. Clark writhed as the Bat nipped and licked his way down Clark’s chest and stomach, then his lover leaned down and growled in his ear, “Turn over.”
Clark obeyed instantly, anticipation building in him as his legs were yanked apart and he was prepared for the inevitable. Pleasure flooded him as the Bat claimed him, biting his neck and shoulders. A great happiness filled him along with his Master’s seed.
Hands caressed his neck and shoulders.
He knew his Master.
All of him.