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“What the hell is your problem, Bruce?!” Jason stomped back into the cave, fuming.
“You did not notify me of your location, Jason.” The Batman trailed closely behind.
“It wasn’t important!”
“It was cruel and unusual, even for you.”
“I get it, dad, but Dick had it handled.” Jason’s body language was stiff, his arms crossed and aura menacing.
Bruce cannot help but feel the usual icy cold rage crawl upward into his throat. That all too familiar chokehold of jealousy quickly followed.
It’s Dick.
It’s always Dick.
A part of Bruce is very much aware of his irrationality, which further exacerbated the deep disgusting humiliation he felt for harboring such despicable emotions. Especially towards his own two sons.
Unpacking such convoluted thoughts and self-pitying despair proves to be much too difficult, even in the best of times, so Bruce resorted to doing what he does best. Doubling down.
“I’m in charge of all operations here. Meaning everything goes through me first. That’s final.” Bruce, internally aware of his childish tone, mentally slapped himself.
Jason gave him an incredulous look, mouth agape, arms still tightly crossed.
“Holy shit, old man, who shat in your coffee this morning?”
No response.
Communication was clearly breaking down, and, unlike his utility belt, Bruce was ill-equipped. Particularly in handling such intricate social situations with his already ill-tempered son.
But his stubbornness and pride prevent him from admitting such weaknesses.
Jason, predicting that Bruce was doubling down (Like the massive child he is, the younger man thought to himself), sadistically decided to twist the knife in further.
“What, B? Not responding? Typical. There’s a reason why I prefer to go to Dick sometimes, and this is exactly why. At least he is willing to fucking engage like an adult!”
At that, something in Bruce snapped.
Why is his boy, his fucking son, speaking so fondly of Grayson?
“Are you fucking him, Jason?” Despite the ire simmering within, his voice was as cold as steel and just as cutting.
Now he’d done it—no going back. Jealous rage had reared its ugly head and Bruce felt like he wanted to vomit.
A massive wall of silence erected itself between the two men.
Jason’s expression was unreadable. His eyes — those beautiful eyes — on the other hand, radiated shock, anger, and… Hurt.
How dare he. How dare Jason feel hurt? He had no right. Bruce was the one who was hurt. Betrayed. The boiling jealousy and rage within crept further up his throat when Jason did not respond to his accusation.
So they are fucking?
“So, what if I am?”
Bruce met his son’s watery yet piercing gaze.
“What if I am fucking him, dad? What are you doing to do about it? Jealous?”
Jason didn’t know the exact reason he’s always acted out against Bruce. Whether it was for fun or to get back at the old man, it was almost instinctual at this point in their relationship. And, perhaps, a secret part of him wanted to push Bruce to the edge so dear old dad would prove just how much he still loved him. Jason wasn’t about to pass up any opportunity to receive his father’s love and attention. So he pressed further.
“I can see that pathetic, jealous look in your eyes, B. I bet you’re now imagining scenarios between Dick and I, you perverted old fuck. Are you thinking about how well I ride his fat cock? How much better he fucks me?” He was probably going overboard, but Jason didn’t care anymore.
“Shut the fuck up,” Bruce warned, jaw tightly clenched.
“Aw, pissed off that you can’t compete with Grayson? Don’t be. There was never any competition from the beginning.”
What ensued next took Jason by complete surprise.
Bruce swiftly strode over, grabbed his arm, and pulled his entire body behind him, dragging him towards a nearby bench.
Before Jason could protest, he found himself bent over Bruce’s knee, pants yanked down and around his ankles. Bruce must’ve noticed the chastity cage imprisoning his cock, but, of course, in typical Bruce fashion, he didn’t react or give the faintest inkling of what he thought about it. If he thought anything at all.
Less than a second later, he felt a searing, stinging pain in his right ass cheek accompanied by the sharp slap ringing through the empty cave. Then another painful slap came down without warning on the same cheek. Jason yelped this time, reflexively reaching back to cover his bottom. Bruce, unforgiving and seeing red from rage, brusquely batted his son’s hands away and down came another smack to the same cheek once again. Jason yelped even louder, feeling his ass cheek heating and reddening from his father’s violent ministrations.
There was a part of Bruce that knew, deep down, he was spanking Jason a bit too forcefully. The rational side of a man who had spent the better part of his life not only studying the capabilities and limits of the human body but putting his own to the test. Still, he could not yield. The way Jason had glanced to the side and the insolent smirk that had played across his lips while he talked about Dick…
It had to be on purpose. Jason was mocking him and Bruce wouldn’t stand for it.
He couldn’t.
Just the thought that Jason, his Jason, would let Dick touch him, fuck him, made him want to slap his mouthy boy’s other cheek twice as hard.
So he did.
Again and again and again.
Now both sides were equally red and hot to the touch.
Bruce admired his handiwork in silence as he traced the curve of Jason’s ass with his left hand. He was somewhat calmer now, but that just gave a cold, calculating edge to his fury. Jason, for his part, shivered from the over-stimulation but, for once, didn’t protest.
Interesting.
With his right hand, Bruce kept Jason pinned to his lap, although it seemed all the fight had left the brat. Whether it was resignation or satisfaction from getting a rise out of him, Bruce couldn’t tell. (He doubted Jason himself knew for sure.)
“You’re awfully quiet now, Jason.”
Silence.
Deceptively gentle fingers continued to brush over the abused muscles at his mercy. Jason just barely held back a whimper as Bruce’s touches became more purposeful. The boy’s pretty cock trussed up in its cage and grazing Bruce’s armored thigh with each smack had only added fuel to the darkest, greediest parts of him. Anyone else might have felt remorse; the chastity device should be proof enough of Jason’s devotion.
But Bruce wasn’t anyone.
He couldn’t tolerate such behavior. Especially with how sick with worry he had been: not knowing of Jason’s whereabouts, having no idea of whether his boy was safe (alive), only to later discover that Dick had known where Jason was all along.
Besides, the cage meant nothing. For all Bruce knew, they put it on Jason together after… Well, after.
The betrayal was enough to set his teeth on edge. But instead of lashing out, Bruce steels his resolve.
“You never did answer my question.”
No response.
Jason was pliant enough that Bruce chanced to move the hand holding him down to get a packet of lube from his utility belt. The boy stayed still.
Good.
Bruce almost warmed the little packet in his hand for a bit before opening it, just out of habit. However, this was supposed to be punishment, after all, so he decided against the usual niceties. He was sure Jason had already cottoned on to what he was doing, but the boy didn’t move a muscle, didn’t utter a single word. Instead, Jason’s breath had started to level out, as had his heart rate. Bruce fought to keep the smile off his face. It filled him with pride to see how his training was so deeply ingrained into his boy’s body.
All the more reason to make sure this next lesson stuck.
It was this smug, possessive side of him that led to Bruce reaching down between Jason’s legs and grabbing Jason’s package. He wasn’t exactly rough in his handling, but he wasn’t gentle either: he was still hurt rightfully angry about Jason’s actions. Jason sucked in a breath through his teeth, surprised by the touch, no doubt. Even so, that was his only outward reaction.
For the time being.
As payment for his former Robin’s transgressions, Bruce wouldn’t rest until he’d wrung out every gasp, every moan, every scream he could; until Jason was a sobbing, writhing mess underneath him.
But first, he’d get some answers.
“Jay, lad… if you won’t talk about your relationship with Di—”
“Fuck off, old man! My relationship with Dick is none of your busin—”
Still holding onto Jason’s cock and balls, Bruce gave a firm tug and, with his other hand, a hearty smack across Jason’s ass.
(People often forget that perfect hand-eye coordination is good for more than fighting or grappling.)
This time, Jason doesn’t hold back a husky moan, and the sound goes straight to Bruce’s cock.
“You will answer me, Jason. But you have a choice: we can do this the easy way,” — Bruce ran his hand gently over Jason’s backside — “or the hard way.” He finished, applying some pressure to the younger man’s balls. At that, Jason let out a dark chuckle and glanced over his shoulder.
“Do your worst, old man.”
From what Bruce could see of Jason’s face, there was a mischievous gleam in his eyes and his smile was all teeth, wicked and challenging.
“Suit yourself, Jason.”
Bruce’s face showed nothing but impassive resignation. But, inside? Inside, his blood sang.
He didn’t dare unpack why Jason could never just accept what Bruce would have given him willingly, why he didn’t seem satisfied unless he took it by force or by forcing Bruce’s hand. Hands.
So they played these games.
Jason would tease and taunt, knowing full well which buttons to push, exactly what to say and do to drive Bruce to the edge of his self-control.
And Bruce would let him. Always.
How could he not?
Though Bruce himself would never dare say it aloud, Jason was truly his favorite son. Not because the others would hear and become resentful. It was purely to keep a comfortable emotional distance between Jason and his fragile, hurt heart.
Bruce once again shook out of his self-pitying tenure.
Smack!
Jason groaned in perfect synchronization. The boy was starting to get used to the spanking. Time to change things up a bit.
The next smack Jason almost anticipated. What came after threw him off — Bruce’s hand came down full force, calloused fingertips lightly trailing downwards, brushing past Jason’s sensitive balls, feeling the warm furred flesh wrinkle slightly in response to the sudden smoothing gesture — a pained groan cut short, midway to a sharp intake of breath. Jason stuttered, tried to turn his head around reflexively before being manhandled once again into submission by his father’s firm hand holding him in place.
“If you won’t tell me what’s going on between you and Dick, then your body will show me through reaction.”
Jason gave no other response except a quick intake of breath.
Again, Bruce’s unrelenting hand came down forcefully before the motions of reaching down and softly stroking up Jason’s balls, relishing the twitch of Jason’s caged, strained, now weeping cock. Bruce’s fingers proceed to fondle the plump sack, rolling each testicle gently in his palm, earning a few short, needy whines from his spoiled son. Bruce’s hand then moved back up to gently massage Jason’s abused cheeks.
Then, using his other hand to reach for that lube packet, he brought it to his mouth and tore open the cold packet with his teeth impatiently. Jason must have heard the noises and predicted what was to come next. He’d be wrong to think his father didn’t have any other tricks up his sleeve.
“F-fuck! Old man, that’s cold!” Jason shuddered as Bruce roughly parted his cheeks and amply squeezed the slippery, cold lubricant directly onto his hole that winked in response to the sudden, drastic temperature change. Jason rewarded his father with a surprised yelp when Bruce, in an act of retribution, shoved one of his warm, thick digits inside without warning.
“Tell me, Jason!” Bruce commanded, finger fully seated within the boy.
“I said fuck off! AH!!” A smack came down. Jason, to his horror, felt his asshole spasm around Bruce’s offending digit. Then, immediately sensing his face redden with shame, knowing full well his father most definitely felt how tightly he had just clenched around him.
Bruce’s lips thinned and curled upwards into a dark smirk. His boy’s hole was tight, and feeling it tighten around him sent jolts of pleasure to his now aching cock.
“Interesting reaction, you little whore.” Jason choked at the use of the epithet.
Bruce continued.
“Does Dick comment on how hard you clench around his cock? Shit, it feels like your slutty hole is trying to milk my finger like it’s a fucking cock. You nasty little bitch.” Bruce leaned forward, almost whispering out the last sentence into Jason’s ear, earning a delightful shudder from his boy. “Come on now, Jay, mouth off like usual. I thought you love riling me up; what happened?”
Bruce can feel Jason’s heartbeat and breath begin to quicken once more.
Good.
“Nothing left to say? I think that makes you guilty.”
SMACK!
Bruce almost felt bad for how much punch he put into that slap. Jason’s whole body seemed to quake at the impact, and finally, the boy cried out.
“I-I… Bruce… Stop!”
SMACK!
His boy cried out louder, voice breaking slightly. Bruce couldn’t ignore that sinful clench again around his finger.
“Tell me, Jason. Does Dick have a huge cock like mine? Does he satisfy you the same way? Is he better than me?” Bruce simultaneously felt Jason’s hole and caged cock twitch, the poor constrained member drooling against his thigh, his son’s precum soaking through the fabric of the Batsuit and cooling rapidly. Bruce fought the urge to lick it up and clean that cock cage with his tongue.
“Still keeping silent, eh? Then how about you ruminate about your confession while down on your knees. Get off me, boy.” Bruce pulled his finger out with no hesitation, rose to his feet, and promptly pushed Jason off his lap, Jason dropping down on all fours in surprise.
Greenish blue eyes looked up and stared into icy blues.
“Crawl, little slut.” Bruce felt a sense of pride when Jason, without a word, complied and began inching towards his father’s looming figure. Bruce felt his breath catch in his throat as Jason, while maintaining intense eye contact the entire time, teasingly kissed the front of his suit’s briefs. Then, in an equally teasingly slow fashion, Jason hooked his thumbs into the waistband and dragged the tight piece of fabric down to his thighs. It took an almost excruciatingly long time before Jason finally freed his throbbing, aching cock from its confines — the huge meat smacking thickly against Jason’s cheek.
“Suck.” It wasn’t a suggestion.
Bruce’s willpower finally snapped as he proceeded to grasp Jason by the back of his head and, snapping his hips forward, forced his thick erection into his son’s defiant mouth. Jason tried not to gag as Bruce brutally shoved his cock deeper without giving him any time to adjust. Bruce did not wait to start moving at a ruthless pace, chasing his own pleasure as he used his son’s throat like a fleshlight. Bruce felt Jason’s hands dig into his hips and moaned in bliss when he felt Jason’s throat clench around his cock when he tried to swallow.
“Always such a good little cocksucker, aren’t you, Jason? Has Dick ever said the same about you? Has he even tried out your mouth yet? Tell me, tell daddy!” Jason shivered and groaned at the use of the word ‘daddy’ and Bruce felt the humming vibrations through his cock as he forced his son to deepthroat his entire length.
“What’s that, boy? Tell daddy what you’re trying to say.” Bruce pulled his cock out of Jason’s abused throat. Judging by Jason’s reddened, tear-streaked face, Bruce suspected he was ready to break.
“D-Daddy… Please… I didn’t do anything with Grayson… I promise…!” Jason sobbed out between large gulps of air.
Excellent.
“Oh, is that so? Daddy isn’t convinced. How can he trust a deviant little whore for a son such as yourself?” Bruce toyed with his cock, slowly giving the aching meat a few strokes before gently tapping the heavy flesh wetly against Jason’s hot cheek. His other hand on his boy’s chin, thumb absentmindedly caressing those plump, reddened lips.
“I-I’m so sorry, daddy…” Jason choked out.
“And why are you sorry?”
“I’ve been a bad boy… I shouldn’t have worried you, daddy. I should have contacted you before anyone else, especially Dick… I promise you, daddy, I didn’t do anything with him! Y-you can check me… Check my hole… Whatever it takes!” Bruce’s cock throbbed painfully as he fought back the sudden desire to cum right there and then.
“How do I know if that cage hasn’t been tampered with? I know you and your older brother are both crafty enough to pull it off.”
“I promise you, daddy… Please…” His boy begged so beautifully, any semblance of his previous brattiness had vanished.
And with that final plea, the last of Bruce’s resolve crumpled. Jason squeaked as he was suddenly dragged up and lifted, carried across to the Batcomputer and, quite literally, thrown down against the desk, caged cock clinked against the keyboard, abused ass up and pressed against Bruce’s enormous cock. Bruce rocked his hips, his massive cock sliding up and down Jason’s fat ass cheeks, Jason moaning shamelessly in response to the delicious friction against his sensitive, twitching pink hole.
“You like it when daddy fucks you raw?” Bruce continued. “This hole is only for daddy?”
“Y-yes! My body is only for daddy’s free use… Nobody else…! Oh please, daddy, fuck me, fuck me, make me fucking feel it!” Jason is drooling against the Batcomputer desk. “I want daddy’s huge thick meat inside… Please give it to me… F-FUUCK!!” Jason screamed as Bruce almost barbarically sheathed himself inside to the hilt.
Bruce set a brutal pace, slamming his hips callously into his son’s ass; clapping noises of flesh against flesh echoed through the Batcave loudly. Jason was much tighter from the lack of thorough preparation beforehand, his wanton moans and choked sobs as proof of that discomfort. However, the pained little gasps quickly dissipated and were replaced with slutty moans as Bruce continuously pounded into the boy’s prostate, showing no signs of relenting.
“Jason, you belong only to daddy, understand? Only to me!” Bruce’s hands were bruising against his ass. “Who do you belong to?!”
“O-only you! I belong to Bruce! To daddy! Ooooh fuuuuck!!!” Jason was beginning to see stars from the pure pleasure of his father’s cock driving into his sweet spot with every thrust.
Still pounding into the boy, Bruce quickly fumbled and reached for the tiny golden key stored in his utility belt. Upon locating it, he reached below to unlock the offending cage that was still keeping Jason’s cock hostage. Tossing the device aside, Bruce grabbed Jason’s weeping cock and pumped it in motion with his thrusts. Jason has now become a babbling, sobbing, incoherent mess.
“Now cum boy, to show me you’ve understood that no one gets to touch you except your daddy.” With a few last quick strokes from Bruce’s hand, Jason cried out as thick ropes of cum ejected from his cock, finally reaching one of the strongest orgasms through his father’s permission.
Seeing Jason come undone in front of him and splattering his semen across the keyboard and onto the computer screen, feeling Jason’s puffy, reddened hole clench the tightest it’s ever clenched around his pulsating cock, Bruce himself roared as he filled the insides of his son’s ass with spurt after spurt of hot cum.
Both lay still for a while, catching their breaths as they plummeted back to earth. Pulling out was a chore, and cleaning up would definitely prove to be worse, as Bruce’s semen gushed out of Jason’s used hole and poured down in thick, heavy dollops down Jason’s thighs. Jason moaned at the loss of cock inside, feeling the emptiness as his sphincter adjusted.
Still shaky from the aftermath, Bruce gently picked his boy up bridal style and carried him off back to his private bathroom, inside the master bedroom.
Clutching Jason tightly, he drew a bath, making sure Jason’s favorite bath bomb was at hand. As the tub filled, he headed towards the shower to wash before their soak. Bruce was loath to be even an inch apart from Jason, but he still needed to remove the rest of his uniform and Jason’s as well. He sat the boy down on the bench in the shower stall and made quick work of removing what was left of their suits.
He gathered up the pliant body (that was his alone to punish or please) and sat down under the warm, gentle spray. Keeping his boy as close to him as he could, Bruce dampened a fluffy towel with hot water to clean up Jason’s abused ass and messy thighs, as well as his own fat cock, the last bits of tension he felt going down the drain along with all the grime and sweat he’d worked up on patrol.
(And during Jason’s punishment, truth be told).
As tired as Bruce was, the thought of having his boy all to himself for the next few hours — and so soft and yielding at that — energized him.
“Son, I need you to stay awake for me a little longer, okay?”
He gave Jason’s curls a cursory rinse and slipped out from under him.
“Fine,” Jason replied with a sigh, managing to sound quite put upon despite how wrecked his throat was. “But you’re going to wash my hair with actual shampoo in that big fancy tub of yours, daddy.”
Feeling the heat of Bruce’s glare, no doubt, the boy tacked on a pouty “Please, daddy?” Eyes as innocent as could be, peering up at him from under long lashes.
Bruce wasn’t mad, but he still didn’t deign to answer. Instead, he turned off the shower and headed towards the bath, deeming it full enough and ready for the bath bomb. As the soothing scent of lavender and chamomile filled the air, Bruce scooped up his lovely, bratty whore of a son and slid him into the tub, getting in behind him.
As much as he reveled in how brutal and unrelenting they both could be while fucking, few things could compete with having his boy this close: laying on top of him, head pillowed on his shoulder, completely at his mercy.
Bruce, for once, instead of going along with Jason’s antagonism, decided to respond candidly. Kissing the top of Jason’s head, he leaned in and whispered.
“Anything for you, son.”
End.