Chapter Text
Alfred shook as the menacing Lady Arkham rubbed the empty space between his legs. She knew, but Bruce had no idea. A frantic yelp escaped the old man as she dug two fingers into the fabric, making Bruce flinch in disgust and guilt.
"Remove his pants and underwear," she said.
Her henchmen obliged without question, yanking off Alfred's clothes and tossing them aside. Horrified, the old butler crossed his legs instinctively, but the men quickly pulled them apart, exposing a tight hole and bulbous clit hiding beneath a patch of white, tangled hair.
Bruce's eyes bulged, shock and confusion filling his face. When he was a boy, he once accidentally walked in on Alfred while he was stepping out of the shower, but he was sure he saw his dick.
"Al?!" he yelled at the screen. "W-what the hell?!"
"I'm sure you're at a complete loss for words," Arkham laughed, sliding her gloved fingers along Alfred's throbbing clit. "He wasn't always like this, of course. Your father was a very sick man. Isn't that right, Pennyworth?"
Bruce's knees quaked. He fell against his keyboard, staring at the monitor, the realization that his father stole Alfred's manhood rendering him speechless. He felt sick, wondering how many times Thomas had used Alfred against his will, and if his mother ever joined in on the abuse. It was all too much to process. He'd only recently learned his parents were criminals, and now this?
Alfred moaned, pulling at his restraints as Lady Arkham's index suddenly penetrated his entrance, slowly working its way to the knuckle.
"Does that feel good, old man? I'm sure it's been a while. You're still pretty dry."
"P-please, stop!" he begged, his shoulders tensing. "Bruce, don't look!"
But he couldn't help it. His body froze, his face pale as his eyes stuck to the screen like glue. Everything inside him wanted to snap and strangle Lady Arkham, but he had no idea where she was holding him captive.
Alfred gasped as she began to thrust, parting his wrinkled walls and thumbing his reddening nub.
"It's okay to get wet," she teased, but it was difficult with her gloves. The coarse fabric bumped her finger along his tunnel, but eventually his fluids began to run. "That's it," she smirked behind her mask. "It's getting slippery now."
Alfred's soft voice rumbled for the cameras. He tried to keep quiet, but he couldn't control himself. Though her movements were smooth and gradual, she wasn't exactly being gentle, and he wailed as she added a second finger.
"Auugh! P-please! I haven't been touched down there in years!" he cried.
"That's why you're so sensitive," she laughed, rubbing harder against his elderly insides. "Tell me, how many times did the Waynes fuck you? Did you enjoy it?"
The question ringed in Bruce's ears as Alfred looked away in shame. He couldn't answer, and for that Bruce was actually grateful.
"I guess it didn't really matter if you liked it or not, huh? The Waynes always took what they wanted. They didn't care who they hurt."
She sped up, her arm jerking as her long, slender fingers dipped in and out with a slight twist. She wanted Alfred to suffer. Because that would, in turn, make Bruce suffer.
After a brief moment, Alfred cried out, his head arching back as the men held his legs in place. Bruce could see how quickly and mercilessly Lady Arkham was digging into his hole now, as she leaned aside just enough to give him a perfect view.
"Ahh! N-no!" Alfred screamed, a familiar sensation churning in his stomach.
"Is he going to cum?" one of the men asked, his tone curious. "He knows you're raping him, right?"
Arkham laughed. "That's right! Are you going to cum, old man? Even though you clearly don't want this?"
Alfred screeched, his hole pulsing as his first orgasm in nearly a decade shot though his lower body. Lady Arkham cheered, feeling triumphant as his tight cunt clenched down around her fingers, his liquids spewing as she continued to pump. His outer lips had turned pink and bumpy, his clit solid as a rock. His warmth was impressive to her, as was his reaction. She didn't expect a man of his age to have such stamina, or such a powerful climax. As she pulled out, a thin line of lust stuck to her gloves as Alfred tried to catch his breath, his chest heaving.
"It's a little wider now," she said, eyeing the tiny, open hole left behind. Then she gestured to her men. "Should be good now. You two go ahead and have some fun."
"Alfred!" Bruce screamed as one of the henchmen unzipped his jeans.
But Alfred only sat in defeated silence, his glasses shining over his passive eyes. The man grinned and locked Alfred's legs around his thighs, then lined his already hard, veiny cock with the poor butler's twitching entrance. Without warning, he bucked his hips and stuffed all eight inches into Alfred's ill-prepared cunt, stretching him even further as he bellowed from the unexpected pleasure.
Bruce watched in horror as the massive cock slammed in and out, ravaging Alfred's body. Since the man was so burly he couldn't see Alfred's face anymore, but he could see the vigorous thrusts and Alfred's hole between the man's brawny legs. Alfred’s crease squeezed around the monstrous length, the creaking of the chair barely audible through Alfred's grunts and whinges. Bruce looked everywhere—at the walls, the floor, the ceiling, but he couldn't find a single clue that gave away their location.
"Does it feel good, old man?" Arkham asked, petting his head like a puppy. "Tell Bruce how it feels."
"D-don't... watch!" Alfred stuttered, his nails digging into his palms. "Auhugh! Oh god!"
"Are you going to cum again? Do you like it when a big, strong man takes charge?"
"My hole!" was all Alfred could mutter.
His voice cracked suddenly, his toes curling as his captor continued to pound at his vulnerable entrance. It felt so good. His asshole puckered, another orgasm exploding around the coarse member that fucked him, and he hated himself for enjoying it.
Lady Arkham grinned, brushing her finger along the burning edges of his hole. She felt a sense of pride and victory as the shocks of intense pleasure drummed against her index, Alfred's eyes rolling back and drool coating his mouth. The henchmen pulled out, but only for a moment so Bruce could see how Alfred's hole convulsed in abandonment. He clutched his desk, trying to take solace in the fact that despite the sheer humiliation of it, at least Alfred wasn't in any pain.
Then the man slipped back in, earning a weak gasp from the butler as he pumped through his orgasm. He fucked him even harder now, spurned on by the spasms that rippled against his dick. Alfred said nothing, only moaning in resignation as every hint of his pride was stripped away.
Finally, the henchmen began to pant, grabbing the back of the chair for purchase as he slammed Alfred's old cunt with the last of his strength.
"W-wait! No!" Alfred begged, trying to deny himself another wave. "Not inside!"
But the man released with a deafening grunt, filling the old butler to the brim. Alfred groaned, whimpering as his own body betrayed him, his hole bursting with pleasure as it choked on his rapist's seed. His legs trembled, his sanity fleeting as the man held still, buried to the hilt so only his writing balls were visible. Bruce growled, consumed by rage, knowing he couldn't do anything to stop it.
"Still with us, Pennyworth?" Arkham hummed, caressing his cheek. "Don't faint on me now."
"P-please..." he squeaked, his glasses crooked from the beating. "It's... getting so sore."
"Excellent!" she yelled, excited. "That's just what I wanted to hear! That means it's ripe and ready for more!"
Despite only suffering three orgasms, Alfred wasn't as young as he used to be, but that was far from a deterrent. As quickly as the first man pulled out, the second man pushed in, his cock about two inches longer and thicker. Alfred gagged, his hole stretching and straining to adjust.
"Fuck, he's so tight!"
"Is he?" Lady Arkham grinned, looking at the camera. "Hear that, Bruce? He's still tight. Guess that means we have to do better, huh?"
Bruce slammed his fist against the keyboard, momentarily losing the image. As he scrambled to relocate the footage, the audio, completely undisturbed, echoed through the cave. Alfred's helpless moans, the chair scraping against the concrete, even the man's thighs slapping painfully against Alfred's backside. Though he couldn't see it, he knew the second man was fucking him even harder than the first, and Alfred was powerless to stop it.
"Auuugh-ahh!"
Alfred's voice pierced through the snowy static, and Bruce knew he'd been forced to cum yet again, even with all that filth inside him. But the attack continued, with no sign of Alfred being offered a hint of mercy. Arkham's chilling laugher sent shivers up Bruce's spine as he desperately punched every button to recalibrate what he'd fumbled.
"That’s four," Arkham clapped, applauding her victim. "I'm surprised. At your age, I expected you to pass out by now. I guess Thomas Wayne made that hole pretty durable, didn't he?"
"No more!" Alfred cried, thrashing as the man hammered his cervix. "Oh god!"
Finally, the image switched back, just in time for Bruce to see Alfred wail as the man erupted inside him. Broken screams pervaded the air as Alfred's whole body stiffened and drowned in euphoria. His eyes welled with tears, his glasses catching the drops as his assailant finally pulled out, allowing his hole to gush like a geyser.
Bruce stumbled against the platform, his brow furrowed and mouth quivering as Alfred's twisted face came into view. He looked exhausted, mortified, but at the same time incredibly satisfied. His hole, which was so small and tight when everything started, was now gaping and surging with two loads.
Lady Arkham giggled and opened it wider with her fingers.
"Bring the camera closer!" she barked.
Bruce couldn't help but collapse into his chair as Alfred's cunt filled the entire computer screen. It was barbaric, his pussy destroyed and on display for all to see. But he wasn't prepared when Arkham's sonic stick suddenly slipped into frame, teasing Alfred's clit.
"Ahhaugh!"
"Don't worry," she said, massaging it into Alfred's hypersensitive crux. "On full blast this thing can do a lot of damage, but used carefully..."
The stick began to vibrate, and Alfred screeched, his walls dancing to the rhythm. Bruce could see his insides clenching, opening and closing as the last of the henchmen's smut squirted out. He could hear Alfred crying, begging her to stop, but instead she circled around and pushed harder into his pelvis, causing his cunt to ache deep inside.
"I-I can't take anymore!" he warned, losing his mind.
But that's what she'd been waiting to hear, his plea genuine, his nerves scrambled. A sadistic smile stretched from ear to ear as she nodded to her men.
"Do it."
Bruce didn't know what she meant, until suddenly the camera disappeared into Alfred's passage. Sticky, crass noises blurted from the speakers as Bruce was forced to watch Alfred's hole stretch over and over; invaded, tormented, tortured. He could see and hear the camera, and whatever it was attached to, slam into his end, as well as Alfred's muffled groans between the foul vibrations. When the camera retreated, for a split second Alfred's hole could be seen in its entirety, and that's when he realized they were pulling the tool out completely before shoving it back in.
"Alfred! Hang on!" Bruce knew he couldn't hear him, but he didn't know what else to say.
Alfred looked down, staring as the intrusive cock-machine penetrated him over and over, his glasses falling to the floor with a crash. The stick sent shockwaves of pleasure rushing through his body, his clit bouncing in response. He saw his life flash before his eyes as the sensation reached its peak, his body covered in sweat and cheeks glowing. He arched back, giving in as the most incomprehensible orgasm he'd ever experienced drained the last of his energy. His mouth hung open, but what came out was silence, then a squeak, then more silence.
The camera finally slipped out, for good, showcasing the old man's loose, convulsing gape, then panned out so Bruce could see his dear friend, his head sunken on his chest. He didn't move, just slouched in his chair, the pleasure swallowing his sanity.
Horrified, Bruce slammed his hands on the desk and shot up, emotions entangled.
"Alfred!"
No response. Lady Arkham laughed as she brought the drenched camera to her face, Alfred laying limp in his restraints.
"Come find us, Wayne. We'll be playing with your butler in the meantime."
Then, she switched the camera off.