Dick Grayson just so happened to like wearing short skirts. Yeah, Dick was a guy who liked wearing skirts, dressing up, and looking pretty, sue him. He liked showing off what he had, thank you very much.
Dick had put work into his ass: there was no way in hell he wasn't gonna show it off.
People at Gotham High used to give him shit for it... Until they figured Dick could and would kick their asses with a smile on his face, and then stomp on them afterwards where it hurt for good measure.
The Principle had actually tried to stop him at the start, and, well-
"Skirts of that length aren't allowed!" Principle Waller argued, shooting a glare at Dick.
Waller was the very definition of spoil sport, really. To say Dick didn't like her would be an understatement, but, to be fair, no one fucking liked that bitch.
Heck, Kon was still suspended for swearing her out, and Dick's only regret on that front was that he'd missed it.
"Skirts of that length are not allowed on girls, according to your own student manual," Bruce retaliated.
Bruce didn't really approve of Dick running around flashing his legs and ass at people, truth be told, but he did respect that it was Dick's choice. Ah, bless that man, really. Dick should do something nice for him one of these days, honestly.
"Ms. Gray-," Waller began. Dick bristled, but before he could do anything, Bruce placed a hand on his shoulder, gave it a comforting squeeze, then cut Waller off mid sentence.
"Mr." Bruce interrupted coldly. "I made sure all the paperwork and medical records were filed properly: You will respect my ward's pronouns, even if you do not respect him, or I will be bringing this to the Board of Directors for Gotham Unified School District. Are. We. Clear?"
Waller took a deep breath, eyes darting towards Dick for just a short moment. Dick responded by smiling sweetly and sticking his tongue out at her like the mature growing boy that he was.
Had Dick not have been looking directly at her, he'd have missed the brief flash of rage before she turned her attention back to Bruce.
"Mr. Wayne-," she began.
"Are. We. Clear. Principle. Waller?"
Bruce, evidentially, hadn't missed the look either.
Waller bit her lip trying to contain her rage. This was one of the best days of Dick's life.
"We are," Waller finally said before leaning forward in her seat. "But, Mr. Wayne, surely you can agree that it isn't appropriate to allow your - your son to dress so provocatively -."
"Why not?"
Waller looked taken aback.
"The teachers, for one-,"
"Are you trying to tell me that you've hired staff that will look up a fifteen year old boy's skirt?" Bruce cut her off, eyebrow raised and disgust clear in his voice.
"I - no - not at all," Waller was looking increasingly uncomfortable as the meeting dragged on.
Yeah - Best. Fucking. Day. Ever. Dick's only regret was not being able to record it.
"Good," Bruce's smile was as cold as the back room of Victor Fries' Ice Cream Emporium. Dick would know, he'd snuck in there on a dare for Donna. "Because, if that was the case, I'm afraid we'd have to have certain conversations... Conversations that would require a call to the GCPD."
"That won't be necessary, Mr. Wayne," Waller coughed. Dick had to hand it to her - she was hiding how alarmed this all made her pretty damn well. Kudos to her for that, at the very least, even if she was a grade A-bitch all around otherwise.
"Then, I presume that we're done here and you won't seek some ridiculous loophole or try to push through some ridiculous targeted decree against my son's freedom of expression?"
Waller bit her lip, looking like she was on the verge of blowing a gasket. Dick would treasure this memory forever.
Bruce's eyes narrowed into slits as he tapped his own knee impatiently, glaring at Waller.
"Miss Waller, I would like an answer to my question. If this is going to be a persistent issue, certain... Steps will have to be taken, for Dick's peace of mind and security."
"The little brat named himself - I mean, of course, Mr. Wayne. There will be no further issues on the matter of your son's... dress code," Waller nodded.
"Good," Bruce's smile was picture sweet, like that of a predator that had caught their prey and was ready to absolutely pounce. Bruce stood, offering Waller his hard. "I'm glad we've managed to work this out in a respectable manner, Principle Waller."
The woman eyed the hand just a bit wearily but took it anyways. Dick, the brat that he was, let out a pleased little hum when Waller winced a bit at Bruce's firm grip.
"I'm glad as well, Mr. Wayne," Waller, to her credit, kept a straight face. "As always, it is an absolute pleasure doing business with you."
"Likewise," Bruce let her hand drop. "But, please, this is hardly business - the education of our children is our future, and it's important to all of us that they have a safe and accepting environment for them to grow and mature in. Thank you for your service and your concern, malplaced as it is in the current situation."
"Of course," Waller's smile was so fake it was on par with Amber Heard's.
And that was that. Dick couldn't say he'd gotten along with Bruce at first when he first became the man's ward, but he had to say, Bruce might not be his dad, and never would be, but Dick appreciated him and he unconditional acceptance Bruce gave him all the same.
Man, Dick had really, really lucked out on that front.
His friends had a blast about the whole thing too, which just comes to show that Dick also had the best friends.
"Wait, you're telling me Bruce Wayne tore Principle Waller a new asshole and you didn't manage to record it?" Roy said, sounding utterly disappointed.
"What did you expect me to do," Dick said, taking a bite out of his burger. "Start waving my phone in her face while Bruce was berating her twelve different ways until she gave up trying to argue with him?"
"Absolutely," Roy nodded. "If she tried starting shit, Bruce would have had something else to use against her. That, and you could have excused it as having a 'proper record of events' or some technical shit like that," the redhead pointed out.
Dick considered that.
"Fuck," the teenager swore, "you do have a point there."
"I always have a point," Roy huffed his chest.
"Wait, wait," Wally cut in before Dick could say anything, turning their attention towards him. The other redhead - because Dick genuinely liked to collect them, really - leaned forward, squinting at Dick. "Did you really name yourself Dick?"
"Don't have one so might as well be one," Dick smirked, sticking his tongue out. Wally's roaring laughter was all the approval in the world Dick needed.
To say Dick was a bit of a, well, whore, would be an understatement. If Bruce had known just how many cocks Dick had taken in his pussy since he'd started going to school in skirts, well... As approving and accepting as the older man was, he might just have something to say on the matter. Just an insy tiny bit.
Every one of his friends had gotten a taste out of Dick at least once, one big cock in him after the other. Dick would be the first to admit he had a weakness for redheads when he let Kori, Roy, and Wally all run a train on him, in that order.
What could he say, he was horny and willing and ready and so were they. No strings attached friends with benefits? A fucking plus in Dick's book, 10 out of 10, would recommend the Roy/Wally spitroast experience to others, definitely would be doing that again.
Funnily enough, despite being in denial over how big of a slut he was raising, Bruce seemed to notice how fond of redheads Dick was, so? When he took in another kid, Bruce made sure they dyed their fucking hair.
At first.
See, the thing was - Jason was younger than Dick by just a year, 16 to Dick's 17. Bruce had taken him in two years back, and Dick personally hadn't thought much of it past 'huh, his parents must have been really shitty if he specifically asked Bruce to adopt him.'
Not to say that Bruce was shitty - he definitely wasn't, but Dick knew the guy well enough to know Bruce would have offered the option. He'd offered it to Dick, and, well... As much as Dick loved Bruce, he wanted to remember and honor his parents too. Jason? Clearly didn't want the latter, and that was telling as far as Dick was concerned.
Jason was hot, yeah, and Dick would be lying if he said he never looked at his adopted brother, especially since Jason liked walking around the house shirtless post work out. Those glistening abs, those thick tree trunk thighs, biceps that Dick wanted pressed against his throat... He wasn't supposed to touch, however - adopted little brothers? Totally supposed to be off limits, ya know?
Until, one day, Dick noticed red peaking underneath Jason's usual dark bangs, and his eyes went wide.
Jason, of course, noticed the look in Dick's eyes and blushed a bit, looking adorable and embarrassed, of all things.
"Oh, yeah. Guess Bruce didn't tell you - I'm a natural redhead," Jason revealed. "Don't like it though, so - I tend to dye it."
"You shouldn't."
"What?"
"It looks nice. The red hair, I mean."
"Huh- Oh. Okay?"
"Yeah."
"All right..."
"Mhm!"
If Dick thought anything about the look Jason was currently shooting his way, well... He didn't say anything.
Jason, as it turned out, half took Dick's advice, and went for a full on punk look, dying only some of his hair and letting the natural red out in other. spots, giving it a dirty red head look. Dick quickly discovered that he had a weakness for that, his legs going weak at the sight, and, well...
After a few short weeks of that, everything came to a head, really.
Dick had been in the middle of doing his homework (because he was a good boy who got good grades and even occasionally tutored some of the younger kids) when he'd heard a knock on his door. Looking up, Dick shut his laptop (because Roy had a tendency of sending him rather explicit messages over Social Media and Dick was not going to explain those to Bruce or Alfred), and stood.
"Coming hold on!" Dick yelled out, then scrambled for a shirt and some boxers. Look - This was his room, he wanted to be comfy, and clothes? Not comfy, no sir.
Dick went for an oversized hoodie, one he may or may not have stolen from Garth, and made his way towards the door. He blinked when he realized it was Jason, wearing basketball shorts and nothing else, a towel draped over his shoulders.
There was just a bit of water glistening on Jason's chest, along the auburn pleasure trail Jason had finally let grow out. Dick couldn't help the way his eyes looked Jason up and down, or the way he let out a hungry little gulp.
Still, Dick's eyes quickly looked up, focusing on Jason and meeting his gaze... only to realize that Jason was smirking right at him.
"Jason!" Dick greeted with a smile. "Hi! What can I do for you?"
Jason took a step forward, right into Dick's personal space. Dick felt heat pool in his stomach as he took a step back, taking in the hungry look in Jason's eyes.
"We're alone right now," Jason revealed with a smirk. "Alfred is out shopping right now, and Bruce is still at work."
"Is that so?" Dick gulped as Jason shut the door behind himself, eyeing Dick up and down. There was no mistaking the lust in Jason's eyes - Dick was used to that look.
He just wasn't used to it coming from Jason.
"I've seen the way you look at me, Dickie," Jason said, coming closer until Dick found himself up against a wall, Jason all but looming over him.
Dick was average height himself, but Jason - Jason had shot up like a fucking tree since he'd gotten here. Tall boy rights and all that, really.
The height, the muscle, the hair... Dick would be lying if he said he hadn't looked, that he didn't want it.
"And, how have I been looking at you?" Dick asked, already feeling himself becoming just a bit wet.
Jason braced his right arm against the wall as his left hand went right for Dick's sex. Dick let out a needy gasp as Jason began to feel him up, fingers pressing against him through the fabric.
"I think we both know the answer to that, baby boy," Jason growled. "Look at you - already wet for me, and I haven't even done anything to you yet."
"Jay!" Dick let out a pathetic little whimper. Logic told him he should push Jason away - what would Bruce and Alfred and everyone else think? - but, whore brain? Whore brain screamed that it wanted Jason to keep going.
Jason slipped a finger through the boxer slit, touching Dick's pussy, nails lightly brushing against him.
Jason kissed him and Dick melted, any thought of resistance burning away as Jason pressed a finger inside of him.
"Yeah, baby. There you go, let me take care of you, good boy," Jason muttered against his lips, dominating the kiss, his tongue quickly mapping out Dick's mouth with practiced ease. Dick shouldn't have been so turned on by his own little brother doing this to him, but he was and he wanted more.
"Fuck," Jason gasped as he cured his fingers inside Dick's dripping heat. Dick whimpered, spreading his legs further as Jason pumped two in and out of him. "You know, I'd heard you were a slut, but I still didn't think you'd be so willing to spread your legs so easily for your own little brother. Whore."
"Jay, please," Dick cried out, his voice a broken cry.
Dick didn't usually fuck his partners at the Manor - but, then again, most of them didn't tend to live with him like Jason did. They didn't sit across him at breakfast, didn't make jokes with him at Bruce's expense.
So, here Dick was, happily spreading his legs like the desperate cock hungry slut that he was for his little brother's fingers in his own room.
"Jay, please - more, I need more," Dick begged spreading his legs as much as their current position allowed, voice already becoming ragged.
Truth be told, Dick had wanted this for a while, and was glad he was finally getting it. Giving in after all the anticipation, he resistance, and the teasing felt good.
"Yeah? Do you need me to fuck you, sweetheart?" Jason asked, fingers sliding out. Dick whimpered at the loss until he felt Jason grinding against him, and -
Fuck. Dick could tell, Jason was big. Big and hard and rubbing against him through the little clothing they were both wearing. A nice large cock that Dick needed in him, now, where it belonged.
Jason was rapidly sucking a mark into Dick's neck when he spoke next.
"Say it. Go on. Tell me how badly you want your little brother's cock inside of you. Tell me, and I might just -,"
"I need it!" Dick shouted, legs wrapping around Jason's waist as he let out a load sensual moan. "I need it - need you! Fuck me, please!"
Before Dick knew it, he was face down in his own sheets, mewling and crying out as Jason slid his cock into Dick's cunt.
"Raise that ass for me, there you go. Arch for me?"
If there was ever a moment that proved Dick really was a whore, it was definitely this one as he scrambled to obey. Face down, as up, wet pussy clenching around his little brother's nice large cock which was slowly filling him, inch by inch.
"Yeah, there we go," Jason moaned, hands feeling along Dick's ass, gripping and spanking it. "You really put a lot of work into his, huh?" Jason said, fingers digging into the flesh. "Is that why you like showing off, baby? Running around in those short skirts, so desperate for attention?"
"Yes!"
"Yeah? Did you want this? Did you want me to bend you over, just like this, and taking what's mine?"
"Yes!"
Jason leaned our him, back pressed against Dick's clothed back as he began to nip at his throat.
"Good boy," Jason crooned, two fingers pressing against Dick's engorged clit and stroking it. Dick let out a chocked moan into the mattress as Jason proceeded to absolutely wreck him.
Jason continued to play and tease him for the next hour, not letting up even when Dick came, clenching around him. The younger teen had only stuttered to a stop, muttering a quick curse as he came into the condom he was wearing, before pulling out, flipping Dick onto his back, and going down on him.
Dick came a second time on Jason's mouth, and a third while bouncing on Jason's cock, slick running down both their legs from Dick's dripping sex.
Jason had seduced him... And, all it took was learning that the other teen was secretly a redhead. Go fucking figure.
So. Dick had a weakness for redheads. That, he could no longer even try to deny: Roy, Wally, Kori (and now, Jason). had all conditioned him to start getting wet at the sight of it. Silly Dick, however, thought that would be the end of it.
Then, Senior year rolled around, Dick finally got his top surgery after turning 18 (teetus deletus rights), and Waller actually did something useful for once and hired an actually useful sounding P.E. teacher.
P.E. had never been Dick's favorite class. Sure, he was athletic and definitely good at gymnastics (and, as all Dick's partners had eventually learned, was flexible as all fuck), but the teachers Waller tended to hire were more often than not, well, plain bad.
Like Coach Zmeck (who had insisted they all call him 'Major Force', which had been the first flaring red flag), who'd been fired and arrested after stuffing Kyle Rayner in a fridge for detention.
Or Coach Smith, who had had it out for Match Kent so much because he couldn't (and, frankly, didn't want to) respect Match was non binary, which led to Match's brother Kon getting in a screaming contest with the guy, after which Coach Smith had started swinging and had gotten his ass handed to him by the Kent siblings.
The Coach before that hadn't been bad, but... They hadn't really done anything either. Sure, walking in circles for an hour was an easy A, but boring as all fuck.
So, Dick really, really didn't have confidence in whatever teacher Waller had hired this year. Three years of let downs in that department had really killed Dick's enthusiasm, but he needed the credit for Gotham University, so here he was.
What he hadn't expected was for an absolutely built man wearing small red gym shorts and a tight white polo shirt to stride into the field to greet them all.
He even had a fucking eyepatch. Dick's inner geek was totally screaming 'pirate' in an excited voice right now.
Dick had to keep himself from staring at bicep's thicker than Bruce's. Sure, the man was muscular and that was hot, but he also looked like he might have changed Alfred's diapers once upon a time, and the 18 year old shouldn't be crushing on someone that -
"Attention!" the man called, and if Dick had a tail, it would have wagged. Or maybe gone stiff like the rest of him as he stood to full height, back straighter than Dick's sexuality had ever been.
"My name is Slade Wilson," the man introduced himself, hands crossed behind his back. "You may call me Slade, Wilson, Coach, Sir, whatever the hell you want, as long as you follow my instructions while in this class. If there's any expectation you can't meet for whatever reason, let me know and an appropriate accommodation will be made for you."
"'Accommodations?' What's this guy's deal, giving hand outs?"
Dick wasn't sure who'd said it, but Slade's lone eye locked onto a corner of the group.
"I am not in the habit of giving 'hand outs'," Slade scoffed at the term. "I am interested in getting the best out of each of you. That means something different to each individual." Slade tapped the side of his head near the patch. "For whatever reason, physical or otherwise. Understood?"
A chorus of 'Yes Sir's' came from the class, and Dick couldn't help but agree with the sentiment, although for a different reason. Yes sir, indeed.
Dick would like to say he wasn't caught staring at Coach Wilson like the whore he truly was, but, well...
"You do realize that man's probably old enough to be your grandpa, right?" Roy pointed out the minute they were out of class.
"Shut it!" Dick blushed scarlet, looking around to make sure no one had heard.
"Just sayin'," Roy shrugged, crossing his muscular arms over his chest and giving Dick a look. "With that silver hair, we're
crossing right from dilf Obi-Wan Kenobi territory to gilf Count Dooku territory."
"You think Count Dooku is a gilf?"
"Yes. Especially the Clone Wars version." Roy nodded sagely.
" ... I disown you," Dick decided after a few moments.
"For thinking Count Dooku is hot?"
"For not mentioning JarJar," Dick corrected.
"JarJar?" Roy spluttered.
"Of course: I'd kill to have that tongue in me."
" ... I should have known a slut like you would be into that."
Dick batted his eyelashes innocently.
"Who? Lil' ol' me? Roy Harper, I'll have you know, I'm a Good Christian Boy."
"Last I checked, 'Good Christian Boys' don't give blowjobs behind the bleachers and eye-fuck the new teachers."
"I said good, not boring."
"You're a disaster," Roy said dryly with an eye roll, but he was smirking. Then, leaning against the wall, Roy took a look around to make sure they were alone before shooting Dick a look. "Okay, but no, seriously, Coach Wilson caught your eye?"
Dick bit his lip.
"Look - that man is forged out of pure muscle and has a dom voice built right in and I normally wouldn't go for a military guy, but it doesn't matter because there's no way it would ever happen so drop it."
"I'd normally agree there but also, you let Jason hit it so I can't put anything past you anymore."
"Shush!" Dick went scarlet. Letting Roy find out about that had been a mistake, even if it had led to Dick being double stuffed by the pair of them.
"No," Roy took a step into Dick's space, pushing him up towards the wall. "Because, you're a naughty whore who likes being reminded of how filthy they really are, isn't that right?"
Dick's breath hitched as the taller male crowded him, calloused fingers from Roy's archery hobby pressing against the skin of his waist. Dick knew he should say no... But, he'd always had a problem not indulging in what he really wanted.
(Letting Jason fuck him whenever they were home alone was proof enough of that)
"We have class," Dick protested, but it was light hearted as best as he was already arching into Roy's touch.
"We can skip, baby," Roy's fingers dug into his skin, arms caging Dick in place. "Come on, we both know you're thirsty for cock. I can't give you the boomer meat you've been craving," Dick almost smacked Roy for that one. Almost. "But, I can wreck you and have you crying and cumming for me. You always cry so good, so perfect for me."
It didn't take much longer before Roy was pushing Dick into one of the unused classrooms, bending him over the teacher's desk. Dick let out a loud satisfied moan as Roy slid in a few minutes later, his cock stretching Dick's cunt.
"Tsk tsk," Roy shook his head. "That won't do. For someone who was scared of being caught earlier, you're being such a bad boy, being so loud. Are you that desperate for more cock in you that you want to get us caught, hoping that whoever does fucks you too?"
"N- hrn!" Dick choked as his own panties, wet with a bit of his own slick, were shoved right into his mouth.
"Shh, there you go baby. That should help you quiet down. Now..."
Hands gripping Dick's waist, Roy pulled back, then began to fuck Dick at a rapid pace, not really giving him much time to adjust. Fucking and using him like a cheap two dollar whore, really.
Dock loved it. His eyes rolled a bit into the back of his head, moans muffled into his own underwear as he just laid there and took it, a good fuck toy for Roy to use.
The rest of the year did actually go pretty well, all things considered. Dick went to class, was a good boy who got good grades, and got fucked all over the school.
Hey, he liked his rewards. Rewards that included fun stuff and treats like Wally's fingers and tongue turning him into a crying mess, Roy between his legs with alternating between tauntingly slow thrusts and a rough brutal pace that had him seeing stars, Jason curled over him while muttering dirty filthy things in his ear over and over again.
Like Dick had said, the good stuff. And, okay, occasionally? Thirsting for Coach Wilson's cock.
"I know it's big. I know it."
Wally squinted at him.
"Dick, I know you're like, the biggest bottom slut boy on this end of the Eastern Seaboard, but do you really have to fantasize about another guy when I'm balls deep in you?"
Despite those words being true, Dick had the decency to be abashed by that.
"Sor-,"
"He isn't sorry, and he's shameless," Roy twisted Dick's head to the side and pressed the tip of his special delux 'red arrow' to the slut's lips. Dick's mouth opened automatically and Roy wasted absolutely no time choking him on his cock.
Wally let out a sigh and rolled his eyes, but lifted Dick's leg up to get a better angle, and... Dick's back arched as Wally hit his
sweet spot, all thoughts of gilfs (temporarily) disbanded.
Slade Wilson was nothing if not observant. His former line of work had required it, and one didn't survive as long in the mercenary business as he had with out having a good sense of intuition.
As this is a No Capes AU, however, Slade wasn't as fast as he'd used to be. His years had, frankly, finally started catching up to him. And, while he did have enough money to retire, that was boring.
Which was exactly how he'd ended up in a teaching position. Adeline had told him that he was absolutely terrible with children before taking his eye, so he'd thought the position would be more than a little fitting, if only as just one last 'fuck you' to his ex-wife.
Slade was observant. He noticed things. There was more than one student in this place that had the hots for one of the teachers. That didn't surprise Slade - diIfs and milfs were common enough kinks. The Botany teacher, Professor Ivy, for example, had plenty of admirers.
Slade himself even had students thirsting over him, which, again, wasn't shocking either. Slade had walked into this expecting that.
What he hadn't expected was Dick Grayson, a boy running around in a mini shirt that only barely hid his rather plumb ass and thigh high socks making eyes at him every time he thought Slade wasn't looking.
More importantly, Slade himself couldn't even catch it halt the time. The little escort boy in training was good.
The skirt itself had honestly thrown Slade when he'd first noticed it. Was. Was that even allowed?
"Principle Waller took issue with it when Grayson first started wearing one to school," Professor Jones told Slade in the break room. "The boy's guardian had a fit over it, however, because the student manual only specified restrictions on girls wearing short skirts."
"Ah,"
"And, if Waller tries to update that particular section of the dress code, Bruce Wayne will make a spectacle out of it and call us transphobic."
That had Slade blinking.
"Why on earth would..." the man harrowed his eyes, thinking back. "... Ah."
That explained why Grayson would cackle in utter glee anytime he beat one of the more conservative leaning boys at, well, anything.
Slade himself didn't give a damn one way or another. Male, female, they were just words. Still... He could admit, he was mildly impressed at the brat for being so blatantly open about it.
That, and, all of the sudden, the name 'Dick Grayson' was far more hilarious and fitting than Slade had initially assumed. The brat had balls, even if they were metaphorical.
"Oh yes," Pamela leaned forward, joining the conversation. "Waller tried to make a stink of it at first, but having a rich boy billionaire daddy kept her more or less at bay."
She sounded utterly pleased with this, and it was only then that Slade remembered how the woman would constantly gush about her wife who worked as a criminal psychologist.
"I normally do say 'Fuck the Rich'," Pamela continued, "but Brucie boy can have some rights, as a bit of a treat."
Jones looked like he was going to have an aneurysm biting back a queerphobic slur. Slade decided he liked this Grayson boy more and more.
(Especially considering that Slade himself hadn't been willing to admit his own bisexuality, even to himself, at that age.)
"I'll have to inform my on again off again boyfriend Bill about this then," Slade spoke with a rather blatant side glance at Jones. "He'll definitely get a kick out of it. Give me all the details?"
Pamela looked delighted. Jones looked betrayed that the walking tower of ex-military masculinity that was Slade Wilson occasionally liked taking it up the ass.
A moral man Slade's age would look away from a pretty young thing like Dick Grayson. True, from a legal aspect, Grayson was a fully grown adult capable of consenting. On the other hand...
Slade was in his late fifties and nearly three times that age.
Still, that didn't stop his wandering eyes from looking, and boy did Slade look.
Long muscular legs Slade wanted to run his hands along, an ass that deserved to be lavished and worshiped, pretty blue eyes that would look at Slade with lust and want whenever he thought the older man wasn't looking... Really, it was only a matter of time before something took.
Grayson was interested. Of course, he wasn't the only student interested, but he did have the honor of being the only student Slade, it turn, held an interest back for.
What could he say: a hot young barely legal twink in mini skirts, thigh high socks, and who could and would kick ass if push came to shove really did it for Slade. Cute, fiesty, all around great package.
Slade couldn't wait to see a look on his face when Slade inevitably made him cum on his cock.
And, Slade wasn't above teasing. Casual touches, here and there. Soft smiles and praise. Enjoying the way Grayson, strong tough as nails Dick Grayson, would absolutely melt at Slade's dom voice.
Such a good kitty. Slade would train him well.
Still... It wasn't enough to make Grayson snap, so Slade decided to kick it up a notch.
"Good morning, class," shirtless Thot Slade Wilson greeted his students, muscular arms crossed over his muscled chest. "Apologies for my state of undress," Slade said, not sounding sorry at all. "I accidentally spilled a drink on myself in the lounge on the way here, and didn't think to bring spare clothes," or borrow something from another coworker, really.
None of them knew of Slade's plans, of course. Pamela would probably kill him all on her own, she loved Grayson. Slade himself didn't see the issue: that slut had clearly already been defiled. Slade would be just one more notch on the bed post, really.
He was more than fine with that, although... If Slade played his cards right, he could walk away from this with a new pet. He'd always wanted a malewife, and Dick Grayson fit the bill to a t.
If that wasn't direct action against the rich, Slade wasn't sure what was.
More than one student blushed and looked away, adverting their eyes. A few of them even looked at Slade with envy. Despite his age, Slade was well built.
Slade wasn't interested in their responses, however. He was interested in Grayson's, and... Bruce Wayne's heir did not disappoint.
A hitched breath. A slight blush on his cheeks, pointedly adverting his gaze. Yeah, the boy was absolutely fucking easy, if this was all it took.
(In another section of the school, Jason Todd cackled)
"Hurry up and get changed," Slade continued, letting his arms drop to expose his hairy gilf pecs. "I want everyone here to do at least one lap around the field before class is over, let's go."
As it turned out... this really was all it took when Slade noticed a quarter of an hour later that Grayson had seemingly disappeared in the middle of class. The older man narrowed his single eye.
Interesting, Interesting, and odd. Grayson was usually on top of things. From teacher's lounge talk, Slade knew Grayson was prone to occasionally 'skipping' classes, only to appear after with clear bed hair, but he had never ditched Slade's class.
And, as far as Slade knew, the boy didn't tend to ditch mid class. Hm. Odd.
... Logically, Slade knew, this meant Grayson was probably getting fucked. By all logic, Slade should avoid him. Speak to him during their next class, let him know in a disappointed dom voice that this absolutely was not acceptable.
(That was another thing - Slade usually didn't use his dom voice outside of the bedroom, but again, it did absolute wonders not just on Grayson, but Bruce Wayne's other boy as well. The man was raising a pair of whores)
Slade should stay here. He had a class to teach, students to watch over, potential future soldiers to recommend towards the armed services, the works.
On the other hand... Slade was curious, what sort of faces Grayson make while he was being fucked? Or, had the boy snuck in a strap-on into the school? Was Dick living up to his chosen name and doing the fucking instead? Making another young boy loose their minds with lust and want?
"Isabel," Slade called towards the assistant coach. "A few students seem to be missing. I'll be back."
Isabel raised her eyebrows. "With all due respect, this is Gotham..." she trailed off.
Slade shot her a look and the woman raised her arms defensively but didn't argue further. Then, the older man slipped away.
A moral man would have made a different choice, would have left Grayson alone.
Slade, on the other hand, could already feel himself becoming hard in his gym shorts at the idea of filling and fucking that jailbait brat of Bruce Wayne's.
Coach Wilson had been shirtless in class today. Coach Wilson had been shirtless in class today. Dick had almost become that meme of that girl who had bit her retainer so hard after seeing a shirtless Michael B. Jordan that she'd broken it, except Dick didn't have a retainer and he definitely wasn't a girl.
He was, however, a horny boy that desperately needed to get fucked.
If Roy had been there, he might have been able to ground Dick a bit, but the other male was currently out sick. Go figure.
Dick couldn't even wait for the end of class. He needed cock in him, and he needed it now. He damn well know he couldn't have Coach Wilson, however, so he had to... Improvise.
A part of Dick fantasized that Coach Wilson wanted him as much as Dick wanted him, but he doubted it. Dick's lust for the older muscular white haired men was one sided. Probably. Results unclear.
He'd noticed the Coach looking, on occasion. Everyone looked, however, including assholes that tried to insist Dick was a girl.
He had fun beating those assholes black and blue with his own two hands.
Coach Wilson, however... While the older man's eye had strayed to Dick's legs before, Dick wasn't sure he was interested. Dick had even made sure to bend over in his presence once, because Dick was a classy whore. The man hadn't even blinked.
Dick couldn't say he blamed him. Age differences aside, sleeping with a student would probably get the man fired.
So: Dick couldn't have Slade, but he was horny and needy and there was just a bit of slick already running down his legs, so Dick had made his way to the showers, snapped a quick nude, and had sent it to the one person he knew would drop everything to come fuck him.
Sure enough, little chat bubbles quickly appeared an his screen.
Jason: fuck. you can't tease me like this at school bro. look at you, quivering. do you need my cock in you again that badly that you can't wait for us to get home?
Lowering a hand, Dick slowly pushed a finger into himself as he let out a shuddering breath. He quickly snapped a picture of that too, sending it to Jason.
Dick: No, I can't. Need you to come fuck me, Now. Boy's shower room
A few more moments, and...
Jason: yeah? don't worry, I'll give you what you need. omw
Dick let out a smile. Yeah, Jason was the best little brother a slut like Dick could ask for.
Slade knew Grayson couldn't have gotten far. He wondered if the boy was playing with himself instead: it hadn't been that long since Grayson had ditched class, and no one had ditched with him.
Yet, when Slade walked into the locker room, his ears picked up the distinct sound of flesh hitting flesh could be heard.
Oh? Interesting. So, Grayson had talked someone else into ditching then, from a different class. Slade wondered it he was about to witness Wally West's freckled ass. That, he had no interest in, really. The old man only had eyes for Grayson.
What Slade hadn't expected, however, was the sight of Jason Todd's leather jacket on the counter. Or what he assumed were the rest of the teen's clothes strewn across the floor. Now, that, Slade would admit, he hadn't seen coming. He had pegged both Wayne boys as whores, but hadn't realized the extent.
Slade heard the faint sound at moaning, and... Stepping through the door into the showers, the sight he was met with truly was a pretty one. Slade Wilson typically didn't jerk off - finding a partner was easy enough for him - but this was a sight that was definitely going into the spank bank.
Grayson himself was pushed up against one of the walls. His legs were both tossed over Todd's shoulders, and Grayson was biting his lips in a desperate effort to keep himself quiet. Todd, meanwhile, was knelt on the tile, eyes looking up at Grayson as he voraciously ate him out.
Todd's mouth moved, mouthing and sucking at the sensitive flesh around Grayson's pussy, kissing along there as he spoke. "So loud for me that you gotta bite your hand? Don't worry, Dickie: it's just me and you, and I'm gonna make you feel good."
Todd punctuated the words by biting down into Grayson's thick thigh. Grayson let his hard drop, a cry escaping those sultry mouth.
Slade couldn't wait to press his cock to those lips.
"Not quiet just the pair of you," Slade announced himself with all the subtlety of one of these raging Kryptonians from comic books. All boister, very little finesse.
Todd scrambled up so quickly that Grayson nearly fell over. Grayson himself went red, hands quickly darting down cover his own sex, even as the skirt, short as it was, fell back in place covering the area. Grayson met Slade's eye and let out a loud embarrassed eep.
"Coach Wilson, Sir," Jason, naked as the day he'd been born, stood in front of his brother, blocking him from view. "This isn't what it looks like."
Slade responded to that blatant horse shit by shooting a glance down towards Todd's still erect cock before meeting his gaze again. The boy's manhood even twitched a bit under Slade's eye. Cute.
Jason paused. "Okay, it's exactly what it looks like," the teenager admitted. "But-,"
"But nothing," Slade interrupted coolly. "There is no reason for you to be giving oral in this school, Mr. Todd. There is also no reason for you to be giving head to your own brother, no less."
Todd spluttered, words escaping his lips too low for Slade to catch them all. He did distinctly hear the phrase 'we aren't really brothers, though.'
Well. That one way to be expected, really. Wayne hadn't raised the two boys together, so he really had no one but himself to blame for them making out behind his back, perhaps under his very roof. That was what happened when you put two hormonal queer boys in the same space.
"I don't care what you are or really aren't," Slade cut the boy off. Todd fell silent, looking utterly terrified. "Leave," Slade ordered. "Go back to class."
"You can't tell anyone-." Todd said, rather bravely, Slade might add, taken a step forward.
"What I can and can't do is none of your concern." Slade growled. The boy fell silent, clearly divided between the urge to fall in line and the urge to defend his and Grayson's actions.
"Jason," Grayson placed a hand on Todd's shoulder, voice soft. "Go. I'll take care of this. I promise. Get back to class."
Todd looked back at him, alarmed. "I - but,"
"Go. Trust me, Jay? Go, and don't say anything. I'll take care of it."
Oh? What fascinating phrasing. Slade couldn't wait to see what the boy meant with that.
The boy looked tense, but obeyed. Despite his bravado, Jason was shaking as he passed by Slade, not able to even look at him. Ah, how adorable.
Slade himself crossed his arms, staring at Grayson. The boy, despite his earlier embarrassment, met Slade's gaze head on. Determined little brat, really. That, at the very least, Slade could appreciate. Grayson's school dress shirt was undone, but the skirt and socks were still on as the teenager ran a hand along the hem to straighten it out, tense and nervous. The pair of them listened to the sound of Todd first putting on his clothes, then leaving, the door clicking shut behind him.
Slade broke his gaze from Grayson only long enough to go do what the two Wayne boys hadn't even bothered to do: he locked the door. Not that it would have mattered much as Slade himself had keys for it, but there were few others who did, Isabel not included in that list.
The lock clicked and Slade made his way back into the showers, finding Grayson just where he had left him, standing up against the wall.
"Well?" Slade spoke, putting his hands in his pockets. Casual, really. As if he didn't really give a damn on what he'd just walked in on. And, past wanting to use it to coerce Grayson into spreading them if push came to shove, Slade really didn't.
Dick took a deep shuttering breath. He'd promised Jason that he'd take care of this, but Dick was still reeling a bit in shock, truth be told.
Dick had never been caught like this before. He should have known that ditching, in the middle of class, no less, would have led to eventual consequences, and, well - here they were. Dick was offended. How was he suppose to know that there would consequences for his own blatant actions and disregard for keeping himself from getting caught because seeing coach Wilson shirtless had sent him into a horny needy frenzy?
Still... Dick couldn't deny the way his heart was pounding, the way his pussy was clenching a bit, the way he felt a desperate need pooling in his stomach.
Dick wasn't blind. He knew people liked to look at him. He knew he was hot. He knew just how to wrap horny people right around his fingers: it's how he had acquired so many fuck buddies over the years, truth be told.
He knew lust when he saw it, and Coach Wilson? Coach Wilson's one remaining eye was a small pool of black, dilated with want and need.
Dick could use that. Dick had to use that. And... If he was right? Dick wanted to use that, because fuck if he hadn't been thirsting for Coach Wilson's Cock since day one. That, and Dick had one last ace up his sleeve, one that had helped him out in the past during, ahem, similar situations and encounters.
Dick hadn't lied to Jason: he really did have this in hand. He'd take care of it.
"Well?" Coach Wilson spoke, and Dick took a step forward.
Slade wondered just What Grayson was planning. There was a rather determined look in the teenager's eyes as he took several steps forward, until he was standing right before Slade.
"I'd do anything to keep you from spreading this around.. Sir," Grayson bit his lip and tilted his head. "Anything. Jason and I - we aren't really related, but Bruce see's us both as his kids, and - I don't want to hurt him after everything he's done for me, Sir."
Slade couldn't help but lift an eyebrow as the boy bared his neck. Despite the motion of submission, there was fire in those eyes, practically daring Slade. Daring him to fuck this up, to make the wrong choice. Slade couldn't help but be amused by it, really.
Eyes that, despite the current situation, seemed convinced that they were in control.
Slade took a step of his own, right into Grayson's personal space. The teenager took a step back, but his cheeks flushed, mouth opened a bit.
Oh, he was good. Slade would give the boy that, he was good.
"Anything, you say?" Slade glanced around the room. The boy had confidence - too much of it - to not have an ace up his sleeve. Smart boy, but the way Grayson's hand tugged at his arm for attention, drawing Slade's eye back to him, was telling.
"Anything, sir." Grayson affirmed, eyes not so discreetly glancing at Slade's crotch and the visible bulge there. Slade himself wasn't even fully hard yet. He was both a grower and a shower when it came to endowment.
Still Slade narrowed his eye, darting around, and - ah, there. Slade disengaged from Grayson, making his way across the room.
"Coach Wilson! Sir!" Grayson shouted, but it was too late. Slade's attentive eye had caught the glistening sheen of something that was not supposed to be in the room, and... Slade plucked what he could only assume was Grayson's smartphone from where it had been angled to capture the room.
Slade turned to look at the boy, who'd gone just a bit pale. Slade turned the phone in hand, looking it over. Ah it was still recording. Cute. Slade ended the recording, then switched and accessed the album.
"Well well," Slade looked up, an air of mock disappointment on his tongue. "Someone has been busy. Someone who likes keeping memoirs."
Grayson squirmed a bit in place as Slade began to play clips, letting the audio speak for itself. Grayson's voice, crying out, begging. Numerous partners, men, woman, their forms visible on the screen. Slade glanced through occasionally, seeing that Grayson had even done him the favor of labeling everything.
"Sir-," Grayson began.
"Is there anyone in this school you haven't fucked?" Slade interrupted as he came across a clip of Grayson on his knees for the history professor, Clark Kent. Kent looked guilty, but when his hands dug into Grayson's hair - with the wedding band there clearly visible - they only tugged the boy closer.
Grayson squirmed a bit in place.
"I-," he tried.
"Is this what you intended to do with me?" Slade questioned, scrolling a bit more. "Seduce me while your phone recorded it, to blackmail me into silence?"
The way the boy went red, his wide eyes, his flushed complexion... Yes. Yes, that had been exactly what Grayson had been attempting.
Slade messed with Grayson's cellphone a bit more. Despite his boomer coding, the old man did know his way around technology and he set the thing to send the files, all the files, to a backup email address he had. How could he not - Grayson looked phenomenal, being fucked.
Then, he set Grayson's phone down, making sure the device wouldn't auto lock as him before moving towards the High School Senior.
"So, you like to record yourself being turned into a sex toy," Slade spoke. It wasn't a question.
"I'm not a -," Grayson argued, looking angry.
"You are." Slade asserted. "Your cunt was made to be fucked. That's all you really are: a good pussyboy, meant to be bred and used and fucked."
"I'm not," Grayson protested. "I'm -,"
"Shh, it's okay," Slade reached the boy, placing a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. Grayson's eyes looked away, his entire body shaking. Frustrated tears looked like they were even struggling to escape the boy's eyes, and his fists were clenched at his sides.
Slade almost expected the boy to start swinging, but miraculously? He kept his composure.
Good boy.
"It's alright," Slade continued, voice soothing. "I get it. I do," he assured, and Grayson looked up, just a bit of hope in his eyes. "Slut's like you need a firmer hand. Guidance, that famous billionaire 'Playboy' Bruce Wayne clearly lacks."
Grayson smacked Slade's hand away, taking a step back, eyes filled with fire again.
"I don't care what you say about me!" the boy said hotly. "But, Keep Bruce's name out of it! Bruce-!"
"Bruce Wayne failed to notice his own adoptive children were fucking each other under his roof." Slade's hand shot out, gripping Grayson's chin roughly and holding it in place. The teenager let out a hitched breath as Slade rubbed his thumb over those pouty lips. Slade leaned forward a bit, towering over the other. Grayson wasn't short by any means, but, compared to Slade's six and a half foot height? Well... "Do not hit me again, whore."
"I'm not a-."
"Ah, that's right. Whores get paid with money, but you?" Slade pressed his thumb against those lips, and the teenager's mouth opened practically automatically, judging by the surprise in his expression. "You don't need to spread your legs for any reason past your own pleasure. As the youth of today say, you're a thot, Dick Grayson."
Any protest the boy would have made died as he began to suckle on Slade's thumb. Slade rubbed his other fingers against the boy's face, his touch soft. "It's alright, though." Slade said. "Slut boy's like you just need a firmer, more guiding hand. Wayne tried, but..?" Slade shrugged. "He's as much a slut, if not worse, than you are."
The leaked sex tapes really, really spoke for themselves on than front.
"I'm-," Grayson began again. Slade responded by gagging him with his thumb, making the boy's eyes go wide.
"Shh," Slade soothed. "It's okay. It isn't your fault that you didn't have a firmer hand guiding you properly. It's okay now, because daddy is going to take care of you."
The boy's eyes went wide as Slade moved his hand from his mouth to his shoulder, shoving him down to his knees. The boy went easily, kneeling before Slade, gazing up first at him, then at Slade's shorts as Slade petted his face.
"It's okay," Slade continued. "Daddy noticed how you looked at him, how you pranced around, trying to get his attention."
"I didn't -!"
"So, I made sure to spill something on my shirt today, while also making sure I had no spare clothes and it was last minute," Slade carried on. "Although, I have to admit - I never expected you to be so malbehaved that you'd ditch my class to get your boypussy fucked by your own little brother. Did the sight of daddy shirtless really make you that desperate and wet?"
Grayson didn't answer. At least, not with words. He did, however, rub his legs together a bit as he looked away, face red.
"It's worse than I suspected," Slade said gravely, even as he pulled his cook out. The boy's eyes snapped toward it instantly, looking like he wanted to drool. "It's okay, though. All slut's like you need is a firm hand," Slade curled his fingers in Grayson's hair, yanking on it roughly.
"Slade!" the boy gasped as Slade took out his phone. The little slut's eyes darted towards it in surprise.
"What?" Slade asked innocently. "I thought you liked recording your indecencies," Slade spoke. Then, moving his hips a bit forward and yanking Grayson's head in place, Slade spoke. "Open wide."
Like before, the slut's mouth opened automatically, those lips wrapping around the cockhead. The whore even let out a moan as he tried to move forward to swallow more, eyes fluttering shut, one of his hands reaching between his legs, and -
"Ah, ah," Slade shook his head, yanking on the hair, keeping him in place. He even kicked Grayson's hand lightly, causing the boy to drop it as he looked at Slade with wide, surprised eyes.
What a pretty sight he made: Dick Grayson, on his knees, lips wrapped around the tip of Slade's cock, looked so desperate and needy. His skirt even had a wet spot on the front, poor thing.
"You take what daddy gives you, when he gives it," Slade chided, tugging at Grayson's hair again lightly. The boy let out a pitiful, needy whine. Pathetic. "And this," Slade said, "is exactly the problem, slut boy. You're too used to being indulged that you've become impatient, and incapable of savoring things."
Slade pressed his cock forward, giving the boy just another inch. Slade was thick, and Grayson's mouth already looked so full. Slade eyed his phone, making sure to get a good angle, capture all the best details. The way there were tears straining in the slut's eyes, the way his legs and hands twitched, desperate not to touch himself, the way he was so needy. The way his lips just stretched.
A good boy for his new daddy.
"Don't worry," Slade pulled back, then back in slowly as the boy relaxed his throat. "Daddy knows what boys like you need. Daddy is going to take care of you," Slade promised, pressing the tip of his boot to Grayson's crotch, giving it just the slightest bit of pressure. "You can be a good boy for me, yes? Go ahead and use your tongue, daddy gives you permission."
Almost instantly, Grayson obeyed, tongue darting out to swirl over the head of Slade's cock. Slade ran his fingers through Grayson's hair, petting him as the boot dropped. "Good boy," he praised, and the boy practically glowed.
Wayne really was raising needy desperate boys, it seemed.
Slade spent the next several minutes fucking Grayson's mouth slowly, inch by inch. The good little slut took each bit without complaint, eagerly. He had plenty of practice too - even without Slade having to tell him, the slut boy breathed through his nose, and, as Slade had suspected, was making a slobbering mess of his cock.
"You've wanted this for a long time, haven't you?" Slade asked, petting his face softly. "Don't worry, daddy noticed and he's going to take care of you now."
Slade glanced down at the skirt again. The boy was practically soaked: there was no way he could go back to class like that, Slade's or anyone else's. Slade gripped Grayson's skull, then began to fuck his mouth roughly and without warning.
The slut boy gagged around him, eyes going wide with tears streaming out of his eyes as he clutched onto Slade's legs, but he didn't try to pull back. No, Slade's new pet was absolutely fucking eager for it, taking everything Slade gave him, making a sloppy mess all over him.
What a good kitty. Slade should get him a leash and a collar.
"Good slut," Slade told him. "That's it, take daddy's cock. Perfect! Fucking! Slut!" Slade fucked in and out, before finally pulling out and letting his cock smack against Grayson's face, smearing saliva all over it.
Grayson choked, coughing as he pressed his forehead against Slade's thigh, tears streaming down his face. For a moment, Slade thought the where was done, but Grayson didn't dissapoint. The slut boy looked up at Slade through lidded eyes as he began to kiss along Slade's shaft, letting out a soft moan.
"Please," Grayson begged, voice raspy. "Please - please, Sir. I've been - I've been a good boy for you, please-,"
"Yes, you have," Slade agreed, slapping his cock on Grayson's face. Despite how horny and needy he was, Grayson hadn't tried to touch himself since Slade had chided him, despite how much his body was trembling with restraint. Truly, a good boy. "Tell daddy what you need, pet?"
Those eyes looked up at him. Pleading, begging, so needy. "I need daddy to fuck me, please? Need daddy in me."
"In where? Where do you need daddy to fuck you?"
"In my boypussy, daddy," Grayson groaned out eagerly, desperately rubbing his cheek against Slade's thigh. He wasn't rubbing his legs together again, because he was a good Kitty, but Slade could tell that he wanted to. "Please? I've been so good for you, please daddy? Fuck me?"
Slade took but a short moment to set the phone down at the right angle to capture a good view, and then? The older man had Grayson up against the shower wall in seconds, the tip of his cock pressed against the slut boy's fluttering pussy lips. The boy keened, spreading his legs out, letting out a desperate whine.
"I'm going to breed you," Slade promised, making Grayson thrash a bit against him in want. "I have gotten a vasectomy," he added, because he doubted any of Grayson's other bed partners had. "Has anyone else bred your cunt, kitten?"
"No!" Slade's kitten shook their head.
"Do you want me to?"
"Yes! Yes, please! Fuck me, breed me, break me!"
That was all the confirmation Slade needed to hear as he slid right on it. Grayson thrashed against him as Slade filled him, his walls clenching around Slade's cock. Grayson's mouth fell open as he let out a shallow gasp, and...
Slade had to pause as the boy came, his hands soothingly running under the skirt, rubbing against Grayson's- no, Dick's at this point, really - thighs as the boy sobbed. Slade relished in it, lips kissing along the boy's throat, even as he used his other hand to rip off his shirt, leaving him in just the skirt.
"See? There we go, this is what happens when we take our time. Does daddy's cock feel good inside your boypussy? Where it belongs?"
"Ye- Yes!" Dick hiccupped against him, legs wrapping around Slade's waist, arms also rising to wrap loosely wound Slade's neck, fingers running along his back. "Fuck me daddy, please?"
Slade pulled back, then trust back in. Dick let out a scream, trembling in Slade's arms as the older man started to fuck him at a gentle pace. Dick's pussy was so wet, tight and needy. The boy clearly needed it, but that was okay: Slade was going to back him stupid and then leave him dripping with his cum.
"You've been such a good boy, spreading you legs, letting everyone use you."
"Slade-!"
"Shh. Let daddy take care of you now."
Dick, the good kitten that he was, mewled out as Slade continued fucking into his hole. Despite all the cock the boy had clearly taken, he was still tight, fitting around Slade like a glove. A wet, warm, tight glove, squeezing and clenching around him in all the right ways.
"This is what you really needed, wasn't it? Not those boys fucking you, no. You needed a real man in you, isn't that right?"
"Yes!"
"A real man in your cunt?"
"Yes!"
"Good pet, good pet for your daddy."
Slade increased his pace, fucking into Dick roughly, skin slapping against skin. Dick let out a shout, tossing his head back and forth, legs spread wide as Slade both held him up against the shower wall and fucked him easily. The skirt was the last remaining bit of clothing between the pair of them, and Slade's mouth descended, intent on leaving marks.
Along Dick's throat, along his chest, even kissing along the sensitive flesh of the boy's top surgery scars.
"Good boy for daddy, with such a perfect boypussy," Slade growled, each word punctuated by a kiss and a mark sucked into supple skin. "Mine, now, understood? You are mine, Dick Grayson. Mine to fuck, mine to wreck, mine!"
"Yours!" Dick screamed. "Daddy, I'm yours!"
Slade's hand reached between them, finding the boy's clit, playing with it, rubbing at it as the slut boy trashed and moaned.
"Cum for me," Slade ordered. "Cum for your daddy again. You want daddy to breed your hungry hole, yes?"
"Yes! Ple- please!"
"Then cum for me! Cum for me now!"
Slade's beautiful new pet did exactly that, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he shook, his entire body tingling as he did exactly that. Slade let up on the boy's clit, but fucked him through it, bracing his arms under Dick's thighs.
Slade came himself, cum filling Dick's slutty hole, turning it into an absolute sloppy mess. Dick sobbed, clutching onto Slade the entire time, legs shaking and trembling as the older man pulled out slowly.
Than juices leaked out of Dick's hole, dripping onto the shower floor below. Dick's pussy even looked a bit swollen, well and thoroughly abused.
Letting a hard drop Slade slid two fingers in, making Dick gasp, scooping up a bit of cum. Then, he lifted them up to the boy's lips. Dick looked surprised, but only for a moment before he was opening his mouth, swallowing down eagerly.
"I think," Slade said, "that we can keep what happened here to ourselves. And, perhaps, have a few repeat incidents," Slade squeezed Dick's ass, making the boy's breath hike. "Well? What do you think, kitten?"
And, arms still wrapped around Slade's neck, Dick pulled himself closer, lips ghosting over the older man's.
"Yes, daddy."