Chapter Text
Leather was one of only two smells in this room. It sort of choked the air out of the place, made your breaths a bit thicker. Bruce was strapped down to a table, big chunky leather straps, one over his forehead, one over his shoulders, another at his naval, one spanning right across the knees and one at each ankle, his arms were free to flail but he was otherwise tethered down.
"It's because you're hard to pin down that I have to take such drastic measures." A large, purposefully clumsy hand messed at Bruce's hair. "I even waited a few days. How nice am I?" The other smell was Clark, his musk, his interest, his intent to have his way with the bat.
Bruce couldn't tell if Clark had an angry of amused face on, he prefered it that way. The blindfold was nice, welcomed for now. It wouldn't last. Clark would want to see his eyes soon, this was just setting the mood.
"Are you awake? Should I leave you here to nap as punishment?"
'Is this punishment really?' Bruce always thought that way at the beginning. He liked this, whips and chains, leather and lace. He was aroused laying here in the dark waiting for this 'punishment.' He always foolishly thought just because he wanted it somehow negated Clark 'man of his word' Kent's tenacity. Bruce would be punished like it or not.
"Fine." Bruce jumped at the contact, then growled against his gag when he realized what it was. "What a jumpy bat." It had been a simple butterfly kiss to his nose. It didn't wrack him with shame but it did dent his pride a little that just at the loss of his eyesight a sign of affection had spooked him.
"I'll find something to watch till you decide you want to play along."
This wasn't the punishment, being ignored, it was frustrating though, earning the right to be punished, showing he was willing to be good, more than that, for his mouth to water for it, for his hips to churn for it, because what Clark had decided to watch had Bruce hot and bothered.
If he was hearing his own groans and moans correctly it was the last time they'd used his harness. Bruce liked all the snaps belts and buckles, he liked feeling held together and in place. Now wasn't all to different, he squirmed a bit just to feel a bit more stuck.
Bruce remembered being strung up and swayed, like some reverse pinata. The prize wasn't in busting him open but filling him up. He'd been a drooling mess, he could almost hear the puddle he'd made.
A ring gag kept his mouth open for use. That mouth was all Clark was interested in for what seemed like an eternity. Despite how hard Bruce had been, how he garbled pleads over Clark's cock to fuck him, the Kryptonian would simply make him swallow then sway, till he was up for another round, the process repeated till Bruce's drool and Clark's cum were indistinguishable.
"You can touch yourself you know? Might be a struggle but I believe in you?" That permission sent a pang of dread through Bruce. Was this going to be another night where Clark wouldn't touch his cock? Bruce still would orgasm. Clark wasn't that cruel and Bruce was that aroused but still he wanted Clark to touch him.
"Srr" maybe if he apologized for what he did, his repeat offense, Clark would reconsider.
"Hmm? Say again?" Clark was getting up from the little stool by their toy bench, walking over. That was a step in the right direction.
"Srr" Bruce tried again, it wasn't any clearer but it was louder, more adamant.
"You're sorry?" Bruce didn't jump when Clark's fingers skipped up his chest.
"Ys." Bruce couldn't even move his head to nod, how Clark was going to utilize him in such a state he hadn't yet figured out.
"Maybe I shouldn't punish you then." Bruce was surprised when he felt Clark's hand trail lower, took Bruce's cock in hand and started to stroke, touching him just as Bruce had mentally requested. "Maybe I should convince you not to run out on me in more pleasant ways. What do you think? More bats with honey?"
Clark always gave Bruce choices, just like leather, Bruce liked choices, Clark knew what Bruce liked. 'I'll like the punishment more than this-' Bruce paused that thought, reassessed. Would he like punishment more than a hand job? It was a really good hand job.
"Actually honey kind of sounds fun. Could lick it off you all nice and sweet." Clark's tounge washed all the way from Bruce's left nipple, up and over restraints, till it skirted Bruce's throat. Bruce could do little more than some sorry rutting into Clark's fist and some muffled groan into his ear.
'It'll be longer than this handjob.' Because Bruce was already close, being tied down, made to wait, just for a very nice, very snug wank seemed a waste. "Nu"
"No?" Bruce was fairly certain this was some Kryptonian mind trick, giving him what he wanted, speaking strong and surly, convincing Bruce there was something else beyond his vision that he wanted more. "Alright." And the hand job was off the table, Bruce tried to arch into every last second of it.
"You know what I'm punishing you for right?" Clark was punishing Bruce because he asked for it, because he liked being punished and Clark knew what Bruce liked. This was a treat for Bruce is what it was. "You know what you did?" Clark always saved punishment for when Bruce deserved it, when there was a reason. Though Bruce never had to wait all too long, for a hero he was quite a bad boy.
"You think this is funny?" Clark must've seen Bruce smirk around his gag, he retaliated by swatting at his left thigh. "Maybe that's why the lesson never sticks." Harder on his right, Bruce groaned, the sting didn't hurt but it caused anticipation and arousal to hum through him and it would not be addressed anytime soon.
That lesson Clark was going on about would never stick. One because of how much Bruce enjoyed his punishments, and secondly the lesson itself, it was impossible for Bruce to follow.
Bruce knew something was on the horizon, the punishment was about to start, Clark had paused his talking. Instead his mouth had gone back to Bruce's nipples, licking and nipping at first, luring them to perk up under his attention. Then once they were meeting him he grew harsh, long unforgiving sucks, biting at some point gnawing on Bruce's sensitive nerves.
"Ugggg." Bruce was hard again, his cock started that slow pooling tingling ache. He wanted Clark to touch him, bucked up asking for it again.
"Do you know how ridiculous I looked?" Clark ignored Bruce's plea, blowing a chilly bit of air over one nipple before afixing a clamp over it.
'No not a clamp . . . A clip' Bruce very much felt the cold metal teeth. 'Aligator clips which means-' Bruce gave a grunt as he was provided with the match to the set. 'Electricity?'
Bruce was curious, they had never played with this before. Would he like it? Would he even feel it? To say Bruce had a higher than average pain tolerance would be selling himself short. Clark normally had to use his above average strength just to make impact play . . . Impactful. Would the shock feel static, a tickle?
"Don't go quiet on me again Bruce." Clark tugged on the cords attached to Bruce's nipples. "Do you know how silly I looked?" The clips came to life and it wasn't spine shaking but it did warm, stimulate, penetrate those sensitive trapped nerves, he answered Clark with a moan there was pleading than penance there. Clark had his work cut out for him.
"There I was-" Clark didn't cut the current off, let the surge continue working its way through Bruce's chest. "At one of your business parties mind you-" This was intrinsically Clark, he loved to talk, spoke the whole way through their sessions. It wasn't always verbal hedonism though, sometimes it was just a chat. Sometimes Bruce wondered if Clark strapped him down just so he could get some of Bruce's undivided attention. "And where were you?"
"Scccrw." Bruce had ditched the event to chase down the scarecrow. "Srr." Bruce was sorry. It happen a lot, leaving Clark either mid event or as in this case, before they even made it to the door. It happened this month more than any other, October was always a busy month for the bat. His rouges gallery was made up of every haunted house cliche.
Clark didn't acknowledge Bruce's apology, he didn't want to hear sorry, he wanted to make Bruce sorry. "Hmm where did I put that? Oh well, improvise." Clark was undoing his belt, his pants hit the floor. "You might think yourself better than a hand job, but if you want me to lube you, I'd return the favor you turned down." Clark didn't guide Bruce's hand, he had to reach somewhat blindly, find Clark's cock, wrap his fingers around the base and slide up and down.
'He's not even hard.' In the back of Bruce's mind he knew that was an active choice, that Clark was so in control of his body holding back an erection was nothing. He just wanted Bruce to work him from beginning to end. In the moment all Bruce could think however was 'I want lube, I'll need lube, I need to excite him.' His mind was starting to fold in the right way, fall into the right mindset.
"Mth? Mmm Mth?" Bruce thought it a win win, his mouth would be much better for Clark, much wetter for lubrication.
"How kind of you Bruce, almost ready to really apologize huh?" Clark removed Bruce's gag, but bizarrely not the strap keeping Bruce from turning his head.
"Clark I need to move."
"Tsk, that's not the lesson here Bruce, stay still. Open your mouth." Bruce did obey, he felt Clark's cock thwap sideways across his open mouth begin thrusting back and forth. "Come on Bruce it's like you're not even trying."
"I'm-" In one forward thrust Clark was pounding in and against Bruce’s cheek. He wasn't going to fuck Bruce's throat like he had a habit of, this was going to be all mouth, all tongue, it was all on Bruce.
"There you go." Clark stroked at Bruce's pulse while Bruce did his best to bob his head despite the restraints, twist his tongue to cover as much surface area as possible.
"Now you keep interrupting me Bruce." Clark knew this shallow blow job would take a while, longer if he deemed it entertaining, so he resumed his lecture on what Bruce had done wrong.
"It was worse this time you know?" The electricity at Bruce's chest had become ambient at this point, a fuzzy persistent pleasure sort of feeling as he licked and mouthed clumsily at Clark's cock, half listening to Clark's words. Bruce was slipping farther into a space where nothing was a priority, everything was sensory, everything was just for him.
"Srr." Bruce did know but Clark explained it anyway.
"Everyone thought I was Magnum P.I with a runny nose." Clark had been stuck at a company party in one half of a couple's costume. His outfit didn't make sense alone, he'd likely spent the night explaining himself to people already disappointed by Bruce's absence.
"Hd ta" Clark wasn't truly mad, wouldn't think to blame Bruce for doing what he did, protecting his city, he knew it couldn't be helped. Mad wasn't right but Clark likely was disappointed, he was allowed to be disappointed. Bruce would make it up to him, he just wished Clark would give him more room to move, to be good, to please him.
'No.' Bruce knew he didn't truly want that, he liked the restrictions, the helplessness, that he was not to make plans and execute them but lay there and take what Clark gave him. 'If it's his idea he can't be disappointed.' Bruce relaxed further, the pressure on him to think and act melted away.
"There you are." Clark cooed, popping his cock out of Bruce's mouth.
"Huh?" Bruce panted, unsure why Clark had stopped.
"My good boy, ready to be punished, nothing else, nothing else to think about, nothing else to do, all we're here for right?" This had all been settling foreplay, Clark was asking if Bruce was finally willing to turn over control.
"Yes."
"Good." Clark slapped his cock across Bruce's cheek, once twice, a third time. Bruce only thought about how it felt, warm, wet, hard, good, it was even better when after a few helping hand strokes Clark came across Bruce's face. "Now-" Clark removed Bruce's blindfold, smiled at him in a way that was both comforting and menacing. "Let's get started."