Work Text:
Trigger Warning: Sugar Daddy, dub/non con, jealousy, vibrator, fingering, invasion of privacy
You tried not to whimper as you sat down in class. Bruce had not been kind last night when he’d fucked you, taking out stress from work on your poor cunt. At first you’d felt fine going home, especially when Alfred drove you, but now that a day had passed, your legs felt like they could barely hold your weight and your hips screamed when you so much as thought about bending over. Maybe you should charge him more for rough fucking like that.
Today you would have preferred to stay in bed and rest, but with a major project due next week, you couldn’t afford to blow off class for any reason.
Your project partner slid into the seat beside you. Fuck, that’s right, you’d blown him off to go see Bruce. You needed extra money for groceries this month, and while you knew Alfred would make you breakfast if you stayed over, but your morning classes conflicted and you usually opted to get home as soon as Bruce was finished.
“Hey,” he said.
“I’m sorry,” you groaned, “something came up and I had to go to work last night.”
He shrugged. “Can’t change the past, but we need to meet tonight otherwise we’re both going to fail this assignment. And while my grade can take the hit, I know yours can’t.”
You groaned another I’m sorry. “I don’t have any classes after this one,” you said, “so we could go to the library and try to finish it all tonight. Whatever you don’t want to do I’ll finish: promise.”
“Sounds good to me.” He smiled at you.
A sigh of relief escaped you. You took your phone out and stopped when you heard the professor enter the room. Although, the footsteps sounded familiar, but not like your usual professor, in fact, these footsteps were heavier and usually accompanied by the sound of a belt unbuckling. You had to cover your mouth to stop yourself from shouting, Bruce?!
“Good morning,” Bruce said, keeping his eyes focused on the portfolio in his hands, “I’ll be your substitute today.” He set it down on the podium before turning around to write PROFESSOR WAYNE on the whiteboard. When he turned to address the class, his eyes locked with yours. “If you’re wondering where your usual professor is, they’re out on a family emergency.”
Someone blurted out, “Is that billionaire playboy philanthropist Bruce Wayne?!”
“It is,” Bruce answered in his usual deadpan. “Anyway, I’ve been instructed to speak with each group about the progress of their project. The sooner we can finish, the sooner we can all go home.” He looked down at his portfolio again and a moment later your phone buzzed. “Please take the time to silence all cell phones now.” He made eye contact with you.
Oh no. You knew Bruce could be jealous, hence why you were so careful with your phone around him, though he was smart enough to hack in no matter how often you changed your password. And right now you were sitting next to a boy, a boy that he’d be talking to you with as a partner. Slowly, you risked a glance at your phone and saw a single message from Bruce: Put it in. Now.
Fuuuuck. This is the worst thing that could happen to you right now. If you didn’t do it, Bruce may be liable to sever your contract, which meant no more groceries or rent. But this was an academic setting, both of you could get in trouble if you followed his instructions, although him more than you: but rumors spread fast and you couldn’t handle that kind of blow to your reputation. Fuck. You glanced at your partner who seemed enamored with Bruce Wayne as a sub.
Slowly you slipped the small, egg-shaped, vibrator from your bag and slid it into your sore core. It hurt from the beating Bruce’s cock had given you the night before. God his mean-streaks were bad. And his jealous-streaks even worse.
“No questions? Good,” Bruce continued, “we’ll begin the interviews.”
Partner by partner Bruce thoroughly asked questions and made notes on their progress. Pair after pair left until you it was only you and your partner. The two of you sat in chairs in front of the podium, Bruce staring down his sharp nose at the two of you. “So,” he said, “I take it you’re partners.”
“No,” you said.
“Yes,” your partner said.
He glanced at you. You stared at Bruce. “There’s nothing going on between us.”
You knew exactly what he was thinking, that his was your boyfriend you were pretending to work with. He knew you weren’t the brightest academically and could come up with some vicious accusations when he thought you were violating the contract. Bruce simply nodded and made a note. And then you felt it. The vibrator was coming to life inside you, shaking right next to your sweet spot. “Would you like to tell me about the progress you’ve made together?”
You whimpered and tried to swallow the noises threatening to come out of your throat. Was he planning to torture you for working with a boy? It wasn’t even your fault that pairs had been assigned! Plus it was your life, he shouldn’t have been sticking his nose so far into it.
“Well,” your partner said, “we haven’t had many opportunities to come together, but I think we’ll be able to make a wonderful presentation of our combined efforts. We’re actually planning to finish it today after class.”
That caught Bruce’s attention. He looked at your partner as he increased the vibration of the toy inside you. “Is that true, Y/N?”
You were getting hot, barely able to force yourself to nod. You’d locked your knees together because otherwise the toy would slip out from the amount of slick built up. Your core was getting, tight, too. Why was Bruce so viciously jealous? When you shifted the toy dove deeper inside you, and you nearly cried out, grabbing the side of your chair for grounding.
“I need a verbal answer, ma’am,” Bruce pushed.
“Y-yes,” your voice was high and whiny, “we are.”
“Woah,” your partner replied, “you don’t sound too good. Work must have taken more out of you than I thought.”
Bruce shot you a look. “Work?”
Part of your contract was to keep your relationship a secret. You knew the rules! Why was he treating you like a criminal? “At the...” you struggled to come up with a lie as your head clouded with pleasure, “the grocery store. Stocking... shelves.”
“Shelves?” Bruce pressed. “That’s all you do? Nothing on the side?”
“I’m loyal to my work,” you hissed. You had to clamp your mouth shut after that because the toy was vibrating faster. Fuck. Please let this interrogation end soon, you weren’t sure how much more you could take before you came.
He hummed in response. “Well, you’re free to go,” he said to your partner, “it sounds like I need to have a word in private with her. Feel free to leave.”
“It was good to meet you, Mr. Wayne, my parents really respect you,” your partner said standing. To you he said, “I’ll meet you at the library.”
You nodded, knowing full well you wouldn’t be walking out of this classroom.
When he left, the door slamming shut behind him, Bruce turned to you. He pried your legs open before he slipped his hand under your skirt and rubbed your slick drenched folds, his expressionless face turning to the side like a curious cat. It felt so good that you let a moan slip out. Damnit, Bruce. “You’ve been sneaking around with other men.”
“You went through my phone,” you moaned, bucking into his fingers. Fuck, just a little more and you’d cum.
Bruce pressed his thumb into your clit. One carefully rounded circle later and you were cumming, drenching your panties and skirt with your slick, crying and bucking against his hand until the heat in your body subsided, leaving you a soaking mess in a college classroom with a vibrator still going full blast in your sensitive core.
Bruce continued where he left off, “I have to. You hide things from me.”
“I have a life,” you whined, “outside of you.”
He frowned at that, fingers still. “I guess you do.” He slid them from free, licking the shining glaze off his digits and keeping those icy blue eyes locked with yours. “You have a life outside of me. So go finish your project with that man. And I’ll live my life outside of the school’s library playing with this remote I found.” He held up the vibrator remote.
You should have ended your contract with him right there, but you needed the money. So, nearly overstimulated and panting, all you could respond with was, “Yes, daddy.”