TDK is not my property.
When I turned sixteen they told me it was going to get better. They said I'd be out of the Narrows and living in a better place. I didn't have the most stable life at home. I lived with my mother who was only seventeen years older than me. Oh and my father? Not sure about him. My mom has always told me that he bailed when she was seven months pregnant with me. What a surprise.
I love my mother unconditionally. Don't get me wrong she definitely has her flaws, but she's always been there for me. Well - except she was in jail for 60 days when I was thirteen for selling marijuana. She only did it so we would have food on the table. The Gotham cops didn't want to hear it though. They saw her as a lowly scum from the ghetto. During her incarceration I stayed with my Grammy- whom unfortunately passed away two years later.
So now, my mother is back in jail for violating her probation. She was arrested last night for possession of crystal meth with the intent to sell. Yeah, to sell so I wouldn't have to work until midnight at Curbys Sports Bar to make enough money so we can pay the rent. My mom's not lazy trust me she has a legal job on the books as well. She works at a hotel in the heart of the city as a maid. She only makes fourteen dollars an hour. But that can only get us so far.
Anyways, since I have no legal guardian the social workers told me they found a suitable home. They told me I was going to live in a mansion and that I would not believe what was in store for me. That was the understatement of the century. My new "guardian" was Bruce Wayne.
Un-fucking-believable. The irresponsible billionaire of Gotham was appointed my legal guardian. How is that even legal? Or possible? But when you're the richest man within ten thousand miles I guess you're entitled to anything you want.
It sounded so strange. I came to learn he needed to "restore" his image if he wanted the public to take him seriously now that he has announced he is the official owner of Wayne Enterprises. If I thought that was the only way he was using me I was dead wrong.
When morning came the social workers picked up me and my three suitcases. I was leaving my two bedroom apartment in the Narrows to go live with Bruce Wayne. I didn't know what to expect or how to behave. Obviously I was going to be polite. I have manners. The town car pulled up to a huge gate surrounded by green trees and beautiful pink and purple flower. There I was, headed Into Wayne Manor. If only I knew what was waiting for me - a monster.
The only time I had ever seem Bruce Wayne besides on the television or in the newspaper was when I saw him at a club one night. My best friend Charlotte was sleeping with one of the bouncers at the Golden Chalice Club, so he was able to get us in. He hooked us up with 21+ wristbands so we were allowed to drink all night. We brought twenty dollars each for admissions and drinks. Naturally, we pregamed before the club and arrived hammered as shit. If memory serves me correctly, it was June, two months ago. The line to get in the club took about fifteen minutes. While waiting in line I noticed about 5 body guards walking around a man and a girl who looked like a super model. Everyone was freaking out saying it was Bruce
Guess he knows how to make an entrance. Cool. I was too drunk to remember anything else.
As the car pulled up to the front of the house I was in awe - it was massive. I'd never seen anything so big or more elegant, besides in the movies. Bruce was there waiting to help me with my bags. How nice of him I thought. Ha! If only I knew...
At first it was beyond awkward, no one spoke. I didn't know whether I should break the ice - luckily I didn't have to Bruce introduced himself. "Brooke, I'm Bruce Wayne"
"I know," I told him shyly. "Why are you doin' this?" he looked taken back, almost offended.
"I have so much, I want to help the citizens of Gotham." he seemed sincere enough. He pulled me into a big hug which took me off guard. But it was comforting to finally feel the warm embrace of a father. To me a father was only an idea.
I thought, Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. However, there was something about the way he looked at me made me uncomfortable.
I missed my mother every day. But that is of course understandable.
The first few days I was there I met so many people. First I met Alfred. If I was a sixty year old lady I'd be all over him. Could he be any cooler? I loved and still do love his accent and dry humor. He made me feel so welcome. He showed me to my new room, which was bigger than my whole apartment. He kept calling me "Miss DelFina." I quickly put a stop to that.
Around dinner time of the fourth day is where it started to go downhill. My fairy tail of having a father was over. Alfred told me "Master Bruce" requested my presents in his chambers. Alfred led me down a long corridor with marble floors and huge paintings lining the walls. Alfred left me to knock at his door alone.
After one knock he told me to open the door and come in. His room was breath taking - it had a fucking bar in it. I walked in eyeing everything, knowing I must have looked like a kid in a candy store. Oh well. I'm sure he was used to it.
"Brooke, come in. Sit down on the bed with me." Well this is awkward I thought. But whatever, I went over to the bed and sat down. "I want to make sure you're comfortable with everything. Has Alfred been taking care of you?"
"Everything's better than I could have imagined." I truthfully told him.
"I just want to get to know you better, what do you say we go out to dinner tonight," he asked. "Get ready we'll go around eight."
I was excited. I quickly got ready and we went to one of the restaurants he owned downtown.
We took a limo - and that's where it started to get really bad. I was wearing a light blue summer dress with a white belt. It was appropriate for the occasion - not too revealing. It covered by breasts and the hemline was at my mid thigh. Bruce took a flask out of his jacket pocket.
"Want a sip?" He asked. Was this a test? He took a big swig of it. I could smell it and it was whiskey. I prefer vodka but what the hell I was in a limo with Gotham's richest and most powerful mam. If he wasn't going to be a father figure then he'd make a great older brother figure or friend. So I took a gulp.
A few more sips and I was feeling it. Apparently so was Bruce because he was inching closer towards me. I was still naive at this point. He grabbed my face and wasn't being very nice. At first I thought it was a joke, sadly it wasn't. "Listen to me," he started. "I did you the biggest favor by getting you out of that hellhole and out of foster care. You can start to thank me anytime you want."
His hands were making their way up my leg. Starting at my knee his index and middle finger were grazing my exposed flesh. I automatically clenched my legs shut and asked him what he was doing.
"Is there something wrong with you? You're all mine now. I saved you," he hissed.
"No ..." was all I could manage before slapped me.
"I'm fuckin' Bruce Wayne no one ever says no. Trust me you'll see why." his hands were back at work on my thighs. He wasn't being gentle at all. His fingers were digging deep into them, kneading and scratching. Ouch. I had no idea what to do and having some alcohol in me didn't help me either. But I quickly sobered up.
I kept thinking this isn't happening. I must have drank too much of the whiskey. I'm in Tyler's car with him and we're ju- then I felt a shape pain enter me. No, this was not Tyler's gentle touch; it was Bruce's finger entering my body. He lifted me to make myself straddle him. His other hand was cupping and grabbing my butt - hard. Pumping one finger into me he kept remarking how tight I was. It hurt so badly and I felt beyond violated.
"Your pussy is so tight. I expected you to be a slut. From now on - You. Are. Mine." He informed me, panting heavily "You're gonna learn how to obey me. Now show daddy how thankful you are" Slipping his finger out of me, He practically broke my neck pushing my head down to his already throbbing erect cock. I was a virgin at that point. Sure Tyler, my boyfriend and I had experimented with oral but that was it. Now I was about to give a stranger head. Greaaaat.
He unzipped his pants and out came his giant cock. I had never seen one so big. It had to be at least eight and a half inches. I starred at it for three seconds before he pried my mouth open and thrust it into my mouth. I immediately gagged.
"Show daddy how much you want him," Bruce said. I was disgusted, but I was also a survivor. So I knew what I had to do. I reasoned with myself and thought that I wouldn't rather live in a dump so I'd just get through this. I started to slowly lick the tip of his massive penis. Playing with his balls with one hand, my other hand was pumping his shaft up and down. I continued this for about a minute before I took his whole cock into my mouth. He started moaning. I knew how give fantastic blow jobs, so thankfully, this wasn't too bad. Well it was but I didn't have much of a choice. After what felt like an eternity, he pushed me off his cock and wrapped my dress off at the chest. Then he came all over my chest. I was I'm shock. At least he didn't make me swallow.
Before I could ask for a towel he spoke. "Taste it. I did you a favor by not taking you by surprise." At first I didn't know what to do. He took another sip of whiskey and slapped me again. It stung so I started crying. I didn't want to get slapped again so I wiped some cum off my exposed chest and licked it off my finger. It was salty and hot - kind of what I would imagine urine would taste like. He was watching me like a hawk.
"How does it taste," he asked.
Through my tears I managed to talk. "You're sick."
"Wait till we get home," he said. Sounded like a threat.
That night we never made it to dinner.