This a drabble I promised Baruga a looong time ago, as a part of a thing I did in the duckling group on facebook, but after writing like 15 pages I kinda got stuck and forgot about it… *looks ashamed* but when I found it again I felt really bad, because Baruga so often helps me with editing and stuff…. *sigh*
Aaaanyway: WARNING: this is dark!
Well, I say that, but whenever I say that something is safe there's always someone saying that it wasn't and if I say something is dark, people go "aaawww! Fluffy! Funny!" so apparently I don't know shit. Slade is NOT the "bastard, but a charming one" in this, though... He's just a bastard... ;) Mostly. Because I can't fucking write him without a TINY bit of humor... ;)
The darkness is mostly psychological stuff. I don't think it goes beyond what I have written before, and it's certainly milder than, say, the Peace Contract, so… But it is the darkest I've written in a while…. people always tell me to write more dark stories, I just feel that I'm not any good at it, and it's hard to come up with plots that I feel are convincing…
If you are reading "The Good Boy" you will recognize the use of that precise expression in this story… there is an explanation for that: I started this before I started "The Good Boy" and I decided to use those words in "TGB" as well, mainly (and this is reason number two) because it's canon, and Slade calls Robin "good boy" in the show. … and I rather like that… *smirks*. So we now have two stories which kinda centers around that expression. Dear Bob, how will you ever survive?!
BIG thank you to jaminyaoigirl51 for being my beta!
Indoctrinated
The H.I.V.E was surprisingly well equipped, Robin noted. For once the other teens had them running in circles, their attack patterns weren't as predictable, they had chosen a perfect location for the attack… they were good… a little too good.
The leader of the Titans knew something was wrong, but was this a distraction or a trap? His team was beginning to get tired and –worse– sloppy. The old, dank parking garage they were in had low ceilings, too low for flying to be an effective way to attack while still being out of reach. That meant Starfire, Raven and even Beast Boy had lost some advantage. Robin himself couldn't use his grapple hook with the low ceilings, and Cyborg was forced to turn down the power of his sonic blasts to make sure the building wouldn't collapse on top of them all.
"Robin, we need to take this outside!" Cy yelled to him, and the teen nodded. He knew, but how? They were several floors underground by now, and the only way up was the drive way, the elevators or the staircases, and these were all carefully blocked and guarded by the H.I.V.E. The teen criminals were holding them there, and making sure they didn't get a moment's rest, pelting them with blasts, curses, and even lumps of cement from a crumbling wall. It was beginning to look like a never-ending game of dodgeball, and Robin could see how some people hated that game; he was almost too tired to move, but if he didn't, he was dead. Maybe literally.
Then suddenly he didn't have to wonder if it really was a trap anymore.
"Slade-bots!" Raven cried out. They seemed to flood into the garage, armed with blasters of some kind. The empath tried shielding her friends, but she was so weak now, her magic flickered and failed at the first blast.
"Scatter!" Robin yelled, just as Beast Boy took a hit and fell to the ground, unmoving.
"Buddy!" Cyborg cried and rushed forward only to be hit himself.
Robin knew they were doomed. They had nowhere to run, they were outnumbered at least ten to one, and they were all exhausted, but he wouldn't give up.
Surrendering was not an option. It was never an option. Especially not to Slade.
For some reason the bots focused on his team mates first, especially Starfire as she was the biggest threat to them at the moment. That left Robin open to attack as many as he could, however, but even as he did, he saw Raven fall to the ground as well.
He did his best, he really did, but it didn't take long for Starfire to be hit too and then they all focused on him. There was one thing left to do, only one. Their communicators had a panic button link with Titan's East. Yes, they were much too far away to help, but a signal would make them alert the Justice League as well, and maybe, just maybe-
"I'll take that, Robin."
The com he had just picked from his belt was snatched out of his hand.
"You-!" Robin spun around to face the man in the two toned mask, but he didn't get any further.
"Bad boy," were the last words he heard before the metal clad fist crashed into the side of his head.
Waking up had seldom been harder or so painful. His head spun, nausea had his stomach rolling and he found himself half sitting up against a cold, hard wall. No, not wall, he discovered as he found the strength to actually open his eyes; glass. He stretched his legs, only to have them smack into another wall opposite him. His arms came up, and yes, the glass was on either side of him too, eerily clear, almost impossible to see.
His prison floor was about the size of a bathroom stall but not as high. He couldn't stretch out, or even stand up; he was caught in a perfectly clear cube. It was standing on a raised platform or pedestal of some kind, in the middle of a dark room, with only a spotlight right above him. And he was naked.
That discovery was followed by the fact that he had what looked like hundreds of small, round stickers attached in a grid-like pattern on his skin He could even feel them on his face. He tried to get his nails under one, to pull it off, but not only was it so stuck it didn't even give a little; it also gave him a nasty shock.
He yelled out, more from the surprise than the pain, and then he heard a dark, soft chuckle.
"Just woken up and already being a bad boy, Robin?"
"Slade!" Snapping his head up so quickly wasn't a good idea, and the teen hunched over as the waves of illness slowly waned. Only now did he notice an opening in the middle of the floor of the cube. It was an open drain of some kind, with water at the bottom, the size about the same as the bottom of a toilet bowl… and that, the teen realized, must be what it was. That meant only one thing, but it was quite important: Slade didn't plan on letting him out of here any time soon.
"Tsk-tsk-tsk, feeling sick? Well, at least you are finally where you belong; on your knees in front of me…"
"Only because it's too cramped to stand up!" the teen hissed, having stayed hunched over to cover his nakedness. The man had already seen everything, no doubt, but it was instinctive.
"Yes… for now. But eventually you'll do it of your own free will… although 'free' might be the wrong word."
"Never! I don't care what you do to me! I will-" suddenly a chill went up his spine. He might not care about himself –though that was mostly bravado- but what about his friends? "Where are the other Titans Slade? What did you do to them?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?" the man in the mask taunted him lightly.
"Tell me!"
"Maybe if you're a good boy…"
Robin snarled a few words 'good boys' shouldn't know, especially heroes.
"No, that's not it," the man chuckled lightly, like they were having a great time together. "You should have asked 'how, Master?'."
Robin just glared at him, and then a thought came to mind and a hand flew to his face. No mask. Now he felt even more naked. Those damn 'stickers' were on his face too, just as he thought.
"Do you like my little transmitters? They were originally invented to help paralyzed patients, but, well… I stole them. And I've made a lot of adjustments. Don't worry, I'm sure you'll get to know all the functions soon enough…"
"Looking forward to it," Robin growled.
"I wouldn't, if I were you," the man replied.
"What do you want?"
"What do you want?"
"Are you kidding me? To get out of here! To get these things off! Find out where my friends are! Kick your ass!"
"Well, I already told you what you should ask."
Robin looked down and bit his lip. He knew Slade wouldn't just give in. Either he played along or the man wouldn't tell him about his friends… but to submit to this, even if they were just words…
"Very well. Let me know if you change your mind. You have a needle in your back, by the way. You can dislodge it, but it's feeding you nutrients and without it you'll starve… or starve quicker, at least… but it's up to you."
Robin tensed. He hadn't felt a needle but now, rolling his shoulders, he felt a pinch quite high up on his neck. The man turned as if to leave.
"Wait!" Robin called out the word and instantly regretted it.
"Yes?"
The teen gnashed his teeth. He shouldn't… he shouldn't give even an inch, but… they were his friends!
"What… what do you want me to do… Master?"
"Let's start with something very simple, shall we? Sit up straight, hands at your side," the man ordered.
Robin glared but slowly obeyed. Tearing his hands away from his crotch was one of the most humiliating things he had done to date… but it was about to get a little worse.
"My, my, aren't we pretty? Spread your knees, let me see you properly."
Robin felt like all blood left his face, only to come rushing back. Was the man…? Did he plan to do something… sexual? He obeyed, however, feeling like he had no choice. Staring off to the side, he waited.
"Lift your chin, look at me. Good. This is the position. Whenever I tell you to get into the 'position' this is what I want to see. Understood?"
Robin nodded curtly, hoping he was close to some answers.
"Good boy," the man told him, and raised something he was holding in his hand. Some kind of remote control, because suddenly Robin felt, not a shock, but a… buzz. There were transmitters around his groin too and they suddenly vibrated, at least that was what it felt like, but it was happening deeper inside him somehow. It only lasted for a split second, but it sent a bolt of intense pleasure through his body. It was so startling, though, that he jumped and scrambled the few inches to the back of the glass prison.
"Robin, position!" the man snapped.
The teen just snarled, shielding himself again, and the next moment he was withering in pain instead. It didn't come from his groin –which was a small blessing- but from his back, all along it, like his skin was being peeled off. Again it only lasted a moment, but it left him with sweat breaking out all over his body.
"Position," the order came anew.
Just so I'll find out… Robin told himself and straightened up again.
"Good boy." Another bolt of pleasure. It didn't startle him that much this time, but it made him glare hatefully up at the man.
"Tell me about my friends!" Robin snarled.
"Oh we left them behind. They are most likely awake by now, looking for you," the man shrugged.
"They… you… let them go?" Relief and confusion filled him. He couldn't be sure that the man was telling the truth, of course, but wouldn't telling him that his friends were dead make more sense in that case?
"I'm only interested in you."
"You couldn't break me back then, and you won't do it now!" the teen hissed.
"You did give in, just before your friends saved you, Robin," the man reminded him. "But break you? Last time I didn't even try to break you, I tried to negotiate with you. This time, however… this time it is my main goal."
"You won't do it!"
"I've had quite a lot of practice in the wars, my boy…" Slade sounded amused. "You are just a boy, and with this technology… but please; put up a fight, it will be entertaining. Oh, and feel free to try and break out. The glass is one of my own inventions. It's not really glass at all. Look." To the teen's surprise the man's hand passed through the panel in front of him, the material opening up for him. It closed again as soon as the man withdrew his arm and a second later Robin's fist crashed into the same spot, almost breaking his fingers.
"I'm the only one who can control it, little bird… I'm the only one who can control everything in here. Including you." Robin's arm suddenly rose up, startling the hero.
"What-?" he gasped as he watched even his fingers move against his will.
"Quite nifty, isn't it?" the man purred. "Watch this."
Robin's other hand sprang into action, grabbed the thumb on his other hand, and –with a strength the teen normally didn't possess, dislocated it. Robin screamed from shock and pain, while his hands, quite calmly, popped the thumb into alignment once more.
"I could play with you all day, but I have some things to attend to… also I should make sure to place some traces of you back in Jump to keep your friends busy.
"What- what do you mean 'back in Jump'?" Robin demanded to know, fighting another bout of nausea. "Where are we?"
"Oh, we're… out of the way." the man said airily. "Try to get some rest, Robin. You have a lot to learn."
The man walked out of the circle of light and was swallowed up by the darkness. Even though he listened for it, the teen heard no door opening or closing and the sound of the man's footsteps had been swallowed up too. He looked around, wondering how vast the room really was. Maybe it was just an illusion, created by the dark?
As soon as his stomach had stopped rolling he began to explore his prison, which he could just barely turn around in. The 'glass' looked so thin, but even sitting back and kicking out at it with both his heels did absolutely nothing. The seams should be the weakest points, so he tried those next with the same result. Thinking that maybe the glass would rise if he wasn't on the floor of the cube, he braced himself against the walls and climbed up the few inches he could, but that did nothing. He didn't know if the construction could determine if he was inside or not, but at least it wouldn't be tricked that easily.
The drain was next. Grimacing, but expecting it to be clean as it was unused, he carefully slid a hand down into it. It was wide enough so he could get a whole arm in, but he didn't get very far before he came to the U-bend. Robin drew back with a yelp as the thing suddenly flushed. He wondered if Slade had activated it, meaning the man was watching, or if it was automatic. Robin then snorted to himself. He had learned one thing during his apprenticeship, and that was that Slade was always watching. And listening. He should just assume that he was supervised either way.
He tried to wipe his hand and arm dry and shivered. It wasn't cold in here, per se, but the sweat and now water on his skin made it seem like it. He sat back against a wall, facing the way Slade had disappeared.
He knew this was bad, very bad. He played with the thought of pretending to succumb to the man but discarded it; Slade would see through it. Right now Robin had absolutely nothing he could use. He had even felt the drain for something lose, anything, but no. But this was now. Despite the drip the man would probably feed him eventually, providing him with utensils of some sort perhaps. Or he might be allowed out for training? It looked dark now, but the future still held opportunities.
Surrendering was not an option. It was never an option. Especially not to Slade.
About the drip… Robin fingered the place where the needle sank into his neck. There was a thin tube connected to it, leading up through the glass. The length, somehow, seemed to be adapting to his movements without yanking at the needle. Robin had no idea how; this wasn't normal hospital technology. Should he remove it? If the man had told the truth it would weaken him, but what's to say it wasn't drugging him right now? Or could be used to drug him? Still… he let his hand fall. Slade tended to tell the truth. Not the whole truth or nothing but the truth –Robin smirked a bit as these words came to mind– but the truth nonetheless. Or the man's version of it. This was why he thought his friends might really be alive and free… and that thought was very important to him. He needed that to be true so he was inclined to think that what he had been told about the drip was true as well.
He sighed and rested his head against the glass. It still hurt, throbbed in fact, and maybe some rest would be a good idea, though he loathed taking Slade's advice. What really troubled him were the transmitters. If Slade could control him that fully, why didn't he? Why didn't he just use him as a bot, like he had done to Terra at the end?
Because it's not fun, is it, you bastard? The teen thought darkly to himself. It's not real power over me if it's just done by technology. He knew Slade well by now, not by spending time with the man, but by analyzing every single detail about him over and over… He knew there was a danger that he could super impose his own ideas onto the image he had created but, so far, it had proved to be quite accurate.
And what about those insinuations towards his body? And that 'reward'? The sexual nature of both of those distressed him more than he wanted to admit, but hopefully that was all it was meant to do; scare him, humiliate him. Slade's new fascination in calling him 'good boy' was easy to crack though: the man was training him. Indoctrinating him. Teaching him that if he was a 'good boy' there would be pleasure, and if he was a 'bad boy' there would be pain. Unfortunately, Robin knew enough about psychological torture to know that it didn't matter that he realized this; if the man was persistent enough for long enough… it might just still work. Even people willingly exposing themselves to different kinds of torture for scientific reasons tended to crack. He closed his eyes. He would need to rest.
"Position!"
Robin jumped at the sudden, unexpected order, coming from behind him. Had he fallen asleep? It felt like he had just closed his eyes!
"Go to hell, Slade!" he growled and then it felt like he was being stabbed in the stomach.
"Bad boy," the man droned as the teen was curled up on his side, gasping in pain. "Shall we try again?"
The pain was gone as quickly as it had come, with no lingering discomfort apart from tense abdominal muscles. The hero growled, but compared to the pain it seemed stupid to refuse such a simple request that sitting up really was. The only thing hurt then would be his pride.
"Good boy." The buzz of pleasure lasted a little bit longer this time, and Robin bit back a moan.
"What do you want now? I'm tired!" he snapped at his captor.
"Poor boy." The lack of emotion in the man's voice was chilling. "I thought you might be thirsty?"
He was, Robin discovered. Parched in fact.
"Sure, you know what? Just let me out and I'll go find the kitchen. Don't worry, I'll wash the glass afterwards and everything," he said dryly.
"I don't think so."
"Oh, sorry, you wanted to wash? I'll dry, then."
Slade cocked his head to the side, as if to say 'cute' but he didn't comment. What he did was move around the cube, bringing up something from the platform and then Robin saw that it was a plastic hose with the thickness of a regular bendy-straw. The strange 'glass' opened again to let the hose through from the top.
"Drink your fill."
"How do I know it's even water?"
"You don't want it? Fine." Slade began to withdraw the hose, but Robin grabbed it. He was thirsty and he could always spit it out if it didn't taste right.
"Well, turn it on!" he ordered.
"It's a straw. Suck," the man let him know.
The teen made a face, but his tongue was beginning to feel like it was rolling up in his mouth from dryness. He wondered if it was the air in this 'box' which made him this thirsty. He sucked at the hose and saw a clear fluid travel through it. Once it reached his mouth he tasted just a little bit of it, but it seemed okay. It was cool and didn't taste of anything weird, at least so he drank his fill as quickly as he could.
"Done?" the man asked. As Robin nodded, he added "Position."
Sighing, the teen sat up straight again, hands at his sides as the man removed the tube.
"Good boy." The buzz was expected now and Robin felt tingles through his body even before it came. "If you continue to be a good boy, I'll arrange for a permanent drinking fountain for you," the man let him know.
"I'll settle for a door," the teen snorted.
"You'll be surprised what you'll settle for in a few weeks," the man chuckled. "Goodbye Robin, have a nice couple of days. I'm leaving for a while."
"What- for days? You have to leave me some water at least!" the teen called out after the man, who already was moving into the shadows.
"You have water, Robin. If you really want it, it's right there, in the drain."
"The toilet?!"
"If you're thirsty enough…" the man said and then he was gone.
Settling down in a slightly more comfortable position Robin went back to just resting. He suspected the man was just trying to mess with his mind, as there was no way for him to tell time in here, at least not if he fell asleep. Hours seemed to pass. The teen frequently changed positions, feeling more and more uncomfortable on the hard floor. He kicked and hit the glass periodically as well and tried more things to get it to 'open up' like it did for Slade. Not that he really thought it was possible; he just had to try everything. Also he needed something to do.
Eventually, however, his bladder began to get full. He hadn't felt thirsty again, but now he looked at the water down the hole in the floor. He would need to use it soon, but shouldn't he drink while he was more or less sure things were clean? He didn't want to, though. He wished he had something to keep the water in, so he could save it for later.
In the end he couldn't ignore his bladder any longer. Still refusing to drink he aimed and then tried to relax enough to let the stream flow.
"If you are watching this, you're an even sicker son of a bitch than I ever gave you credit for," he muttered as he closed his eyes and pretended that he was home at the tower, in his own bathroom, and not kneeling on a floor god-knew-where.
After he was done the thing flushed like before. Robin really hoped it was done with some sort of sensors.
As time passed the one thing that became really grating was that it was impossible to stretch his legs out. It couldn't be done from any angle and it began to feel like ants were crawling inside his very bones. He shouted out in frustration at one point, attacking the glass with everything he had, until he rolled to the side, bruised and exhausted. Because of the hole in the middle of the floor he soon had to change position again, although he already had a large round mark on his hip from it.
Every time he moved, a wall stopped him. Or the ceiling. He slowly began feeling like he couldn't breathe. Panic started to rise inside his chest. Was the cube air tight? Was the oxygen running out? But no, he wouldn't have been able to hear Slade if he had been in an air tight container, would he? At least not that well. Although that didn't mean that the man hadn't sealed it as he left? Or that something had gone wrong, something Slade hadn't expected, and now he wasn't getting any fresh air… Hyperventilation wasn't far away. Robin had been trained to be able to withstand a whole lot of stress, though, and he focused on his breathing. Focused on the fact that Slade did not mess up.
And then the lights went out.
"I'm not afraid of the dark, Slade!" he yelled, his voice slightly shrill, though. Because this was beyond dark. Without even a tiny bit of light he wouldn't be able to see anything even if he had had night vision goggles. This wasn't 'his bedroom by night' dark, or even 'Batcave dark'; this was complete, utter blackness.
With his heart still racing out of control the teen closed his eyes and took deep breaths. This is what he wants, he told himself. He wants me to be scared, unfocused, to feel vulnerable… but it's just a feeling. Nothing is actually hurting me right now, I'm safe. He snorted at his own thoughts, but he slowly began to believe them. He shuffled into a somewhat more comfortable –or rather 'less painful'− position and eventually, after several hours, drifted off to sleep.
He didn't know how long it lasted. He knew he woke up and fell asleep again a few times while shifting position, but sleeping somehow only made him more tired. He had begun to get hungry, despite the drip. He had been stuck in the hospital a few times and knew that drips could take the feeling of hunger and even thirst away for a long time, but that, of course, depended on what was in them… and they did nothing for feeling parched, which he was slowly beginning to feel again, as he must have slept with his mouth open.
It was still dark, and as there was no light for his eyes to adapt to, he still couldn't see a single thing. He groaned as he moved to sit up, every single one of his muscles objecting. Then he slammed his head into the ceiling.
He froze. That wasn't supposed to be possible, he hadn't even sat up yet, and the roof was an inch or so above his head when he kneeled. But not anymore. Somehow, while he had been asleep, the cube had shrunk. Now he didn't have to stretch his arms out at all to feel the walls, and the ceiling was so low that he couldn't even get on his hands and feet properly. Again cold sweat washed over him. He had felt claustrophobic before, but now that feeling returned a hundred fold.
Don't be a baby, he's just trying to scare you, he tried to tell himself again. Something inside him replied 'yeah, and it's bloody working!' This time the panic got the better of him. He knew the man probably didn't want him dead, that this was what Slade wanted him to feel, but it didn't matter… it didn't help. Barely being able to move at all now he, despite that, tried to kick and punch and push at the glass with no success. In fact, it seemed to be coming closer and closer. He screamed, cursing, probably pleading too, he was too far gone to either notice or care. Eventually the cage had shrunk so much Robin had been forced into a fetal position and the panes were still pressing down at his body from all sides. Then the pain and the panic became too much and he passed out.
When he came to the lights were on and his cage was back to its normal size. Had it all been a nightmare? Robin honestly didn't know, as he shakily sat up. As he could move around a bit more again though, he gave the walls a few hard kicks, but they were halfhearted. He already knew it was more than useless. He had a bigger problem. He was starting to need the toilet again, but not for peeing this time. He was also thirsty and sat staring at the hole in the floor. He knew he had to go soon, and after that there was no way he'd drink from there no matter how many times it flushed. So if he wanted to drink… he should do so now.
He got on his hands and knees and scooped some water up, sniffing at it. Pushing his hand down activated the flushing so at least that, hopefully meant clean water. It smelled okay and he was really parched, to the point of getting a headache.
"I really hate you for this, Slade…" he muttered, and then began drinking, handful by handful. Once he couldn't drink anymore his other problem had become more than pressing. Blushing furiously he scooted over the hole, as close to it as he could get… and did what he needed to do.
Of course there was no paper or anything else to wipe with so Robin just hoped he hadn't become too dirty. The smell disappeared rather quickly after the flush, at least.
"Again, if you watched that…" Robin said and moved back from the drain, settling down into a corner.
He wondered how long it had been… a day? Maybe? When would Slade be back? Not for quite some time, it turned out.
Robin's head was throbbing and he was weak from hunger and thirst. There was water just inches away, but he just refused. Maybe if he was closer to dying, but he wouldn't drink out of a toilet yet.
It had to have been two days by now, maybe three. Sometimes the lights went off, sometimes the damn cage shrunk. It hadn't been a nightmare after all, and it was no more pleasant when it happened again. The temperature varied as well, and Robin was sure it wasn't just because of cold sweats; if could turn freezing for just a few minutes, and then hot as a sauna, only to return to normal room temperature a moment later. None of this helped his health. If he had thought the man wanted him dead, he would have assumed that that point in time was getting close now, but he didn't. He wasn't there to die, he was sure of that. He was there to be broken, and Slade wouldn't get that pleasure for a long, long time.
"Hello, Robin."
The teen sat up so quickly that he slammed his head into the –again somewhat low- ceiling.
"So happy to see me?" the masked man drawled.
"Let me out of here, Slade! Right now! Or-"
"Or what?" the villain sounded somewhat amused.
"I need food! Water!"
"You have water," the man gestured to the sewer.
"I'd rather suck your cock," Robin snarled before he was able to stop himself. After being alone for days you tended to stop censoring yourself, it seemed. He had been saying worse in his many rants to the empty room lately.
Funnily enough the man actually seemed a bit taken aback, but then he cocked his head to the side in that annoying way.
"My, my, Robin, what a dirty mind for someone so young. I'll think about it."
"I didn't mean it!" the teen snorted, blushing.
"Never say you'll do something if you don't mean it," the man tutted. "I'll start your drip again. I had it stopped a little over a day ago."
The man fiddled with something on that control of his, and Robin looked around, only now realizing something.
"How can I have a drip when there's no bag?"
"Ah, well… 'drip' is not the correct term… the fluids are administered with a little pump. That way I can control the flow completely from a distance. Very handy. Position."
"I'm starving and thirsty, you can take your orders and - AAAAARRRGHH!" The pain, like he was being electrocuted, coursed through him.
"Bad boy, Robin. And here I thought you'd be more obedient if I left you alone to think things over."
"Think what over?" the teen snarled through gritted teeth, now that the pain was gone. "That I don't want to be inside this display case anymore? Check! Been thinking about that quite a lot!"
"Good. Position."
"Go to he-AAAARGH!"
"I can stand here pushing this button all day if I have to, boy," the man pointed out, sounding bored. "Position."
"Good. Hope you taped your shows, because I'm not g-AAAAAANNGGGHH!"
The pain was different each time, like shock, burning, stabbing. Robin didn't know how many times he was punished, but in the end he was on his hands and knees, throwing up bile into the drain, as he had nothing else in his stomach.
"Position."
He tensed. He couldn't take any more, he just couldn't. He was close to passing out… but… "Fuck you." This time the pain ended in darkness.
He couldn't have been out for long, because when he opened his eyes Slade was still in the same position.
"Shall we try it again? I've had it on the low setting, maybe 'medium' would make you see reason sooner? Position."
Snarling Robin finally gave up and slowly got up on his knees in the way the man wanted him. He just barely made it.
"Good boy." The bolt of pleasure almost made the dizzy teen pass out again and he swayed where he sat.
"Yeah…" Robin muttered, his stomach trying to turn itself inside out again. He waited for an order, for the man to do something, hopefully give him something like food or water. When nothing happened he raised his bleary eyes to the man's face. "What do you want…?" he asked tiredly.
"You forgot my title."
"Sure! Master! What does that matter, it's just a word! Master-master-master-master! Please tell me what you desire of me oh, Master of mine!" the teen spat.
"Good boy," the reward was instantaneous.
"I didn't mean to be 'good'!" Robin huffed. "I just want-"
"Yes?"
"… I just want this whole thing to end. Let me go, Slade. I'm not a meta human, you're going to kill me!"
"Maybe."
The word sent chills up Robin's spine, because being convinced that the man didn't want him dead was the only thing that kept him from constant panic.
"You… mean that?" he asked.
"Yes."
"No! Let me out!" he pounded on the glass, but the man merely watched him, his hands behind his back, his head tilted slightly to the side.
"Are you under the impression that will help?" he eventually asked, and Robin's arms fell to his sides almost as if the man had controlled them again. "Maybe," the man continued, "you should start asking yourself what will help? Think about that. I'll come back with some water for you in a few hours."
"Hours? But-"
"You'll live."
The teen tried to sleep some more, but ended up just cradling his throbbing head. He had had sunstroke once which had been bad, but this… it was the sickest he had ever felt. He was seriously thinking about drinking from the drain, but now the edge was covered in his meager stomach contents as he hadn't exactly been in a state of mind to really aim. Still, it was getting close to the point where he would have no choice.
It was a long time before Slade returned, but when Robin saw what he pulled behind him, he raised his head and paid attention.
"Position."
Robin didn't argue this time simply because what the man had looked a bit like a water cooler, holding a large container of water. And he wanted it bad.
"Good boy." The teen barely noticed the reward as he kept staring at the water. He didn't even bother with following the man's movements as he set it up. He just briefly wondered why Slade just didn't give him water through that tube again, but as long as he was getting some he didn't care how-
The man stepped aside, pushing the 'nozzle' through the weird material which made up his cage and left Robin staring, his mouth gaping.
"Is… this is a joke, right?" the teen said faintly.
"I thought it was pretty funny, yes," the man actually sounded like he did. "Besides, you said you would prefer it."
Instead of a tap or a tube, there was a large rubber thing, shaped like a-
Robin burst out in a short, hysterical kind of chuckle.
"That's… that's a dildo… you… you have a dildo? I hope it's not been used."
"It's not a dildo, it's far more advanced. Besides, you said you'd rather suck my cock, so I made you a replica."
"That's… that's yours?" The situation was completely absurd…a part of him was laughing hysterically on the inside, although happiness had nothing to do with it. He was horrified but at the same time fascinated, and he couldn't stop his eyes from darting from the rubbery thing –complete with balls− to the man's crotch.
"There's only the two of us here, and I think we can safely say the mold didn't come from yours," the man snorted.
"Ow. Burn," the teen muttered. "So you are saying I have to suck it to drink? Great."
"It's a bit more advanced than that, there's a lot of tech involved," the man let him know. "You could just give it a hand job, though the result will be meager. I'm sure you can figure out a way to get as much water from it as you want."
"While you watch?"
"I'm sure it will be entertaining. Besides, I have to make sure it works."
"You're sick."
"You're dying of thirst."
That was true, Robin knew. He would maybe be able to go one or two more days but he would be in and out of consciousness and might not wake up again. He looked down at the sewer and shivered. It didn't smell that great anymore and it looked dirty too.
"I hate you…" the teen muttered and tentatively reached out to touch the rubbery thing, which was hanging, drooping, in front of his face. "What do I do?" he asked.
"Improvise."
"This is just… can't you just beat me up and then give me a glass of water?" the teen asked almost desperately. He wanted to laugh at how stupid this was, but at the same time it was so twisted and humiliating… and he felt so sick.
"You could suck the real thing for a glass?" the man offered.
"No!"
"Well then, get on with it. I'm only interested in seeing if it works; if it does I'll leave you to it. If you damage it though, Robin, I'll cut off your drip, shrink the cube so you can't move and leave you like that for forty-eight hours. Consider that before you try any futile attempts to escape."
"I think I'd rather stay here than explain to people how I escaped using a huge rubber cock," the teen snorted.
"It would be slightly embarrassing, maybe," the man actually chuckled. "And thank you for the compliment."
"Like you didn't make it bigger than it really is…" the teen snorted.
"Would you like to compare it to the real thing?"
"Could you stop trying to show me your thing, and I'd be so happy!" Robin snapped.
"Maybe you should suck some cock now, before you pass out?" the man suggested, not without a hint of glee in his voice.
Robin sighed and took a hold of the thing. The man said he'd be able to jerk some water out of it, and even as his fingers closed around the shaft, a drop appeared at the tip. Robin unconsciously licked his lips at the sight and squeezed the shaft a bit more. Just doing that didn't seem to help at all, though, so he began running his hand up and down it a bit. Then something happened that made him pull his hand back in surprise.
"What the-"
"As I said, a lot of tech went into it. It has multiple sensors, giving you a bigger reward the more pleasure you bestow on it... although it will dispense a whole lot more fluid than a human, of course, or you'll die of thirst soon anyway."
"But it's… getting hard!"
"They tend to do that, Robin. I thought a boy your age was very familiar with the concept."
The hero muttered something under his breath and blushed as he grabbed the rising shaft once more. Some drops ran down it and coated his fingers. He quickly brought them to his mouth, but it was far from enough. Even when he began really beating the thing off there were only tiny squirts of water when were almost impossible to catch. There was only one thing to do. He put his lips to the opening at the tip and was rewarded with a squirt of water directly into his mouth. The sensation was so pleasurable that he moaned.
"You seem to enjoy that. Good for you. The more you get into your throat, the more water you will get as you pull back… and pay attention to the balls too, we men like that. It might be worth your while."
Robin just barely listened as he sucked more of the head in, greedy for more of the lifesaving drops of water. The trickle was small but it was there, urging him on to suck harder and work his hands –both of them now– faster. He tried to get more of the shaft down his throat, but it was hard without gagging. It did increase the flow of water though, so it was worth it at this point. He was working so hard that his weakened body broke out in a sweat and then, suddenly, he it seemed he had stimulated it enough, because a large gush of cold, fresh water flowed out. Almost sobbing in gratitude Robin could finally drink his fill, though it also spilled down his chest when he couldn't swallow fast enough. When the gush ended Robin was left gasping.
"Good boy. I must say I'm impressed," the man let him know. "Now remember what I said about damaging it. I'll see you in a week."
"A week- but?"
"You'll have your drip. You won't starve to death. I'm sure you can deal with a bit of hunger, can't you? The water should be enough if you save it… and I don't think you'll have trouble with that… unless you really enjoyed sucking off a piece of rubber?"
"You can't leave me in here for a week! I can't stand up! At least make the ceiling higher!"
"Muscle cramps, Robin? That's to be expected I assume. I could raise the ceiling, I could actually expand your prison quite a lot… to fill this whole room, in fact."
"Then do that!"
"No. I don't think you have deserved it."
"Then tell me what I need to do!" The words didn't come from him giving up, they were just an angry demand that the man should show his cards, explain the rules to this game he was playing.
"Good boy, you're beginning to understand, at least." The buzz made Robin put a hand over his groin, because it felt like his body was responding.
"Slade-!" he called out as the man just turned around and left, without giving him any more of an explanation.
Robin was left wet and a bit cold. He ran his hand over the wet floor and used it to rub at his face. He was beginning to smell, and another week of this? He looked at the rubber dick wondering if he could waste just a little bit of the water to at least wash his armpits and groin. The thought, the whole thing, made him chuckle again. It wasn't out of amusement, not really, but he really didn't know how else to react. This was just… silly. But Slade didn't do silly, and Robin very much doubted the man had put this together just for his own amusement. The goal was humiliation and fear, because this was just another sexual component, and the teen didn't want to think about what it would lead, what he would be forced to do, before this was over… Although over…? He could still hope to be rescued, because that was really the only way out as he could see… if it hadn't been for his friends, he would have still been the man's apprentice, he was rather sure about that, no matter how much it hurt his pride to admit. Slade didn't make mistakes, not often, at least. He had had no idea that the villain might have a physical interest in him though, that's why he clung to the hope that it was all for show, to scare him. He was a teenager, after all; sex was a big part of his daily thoughts, normally… It was closely tied to feelings of self-doubt, identity, longing and especially embarrassment in different forms. And guilt. Of course Slade would try to take advantage of that as much as he could, but that didn't mean Robin had to fear getting raped. He hoped.
Still… surrendering was not an option. It was never an option. Especially not to Slade.
It became more and more important for Robin to try to tell time as the hours and days passed. The lights went on and off, but the intervals were uneven, he was sure of that much. He found himself counting seconds to turn them into minutes, but soon his mind was a jumbled mess of numbers and he just wanted to scream. At one point he was pretty sure he did. The complete isolation and also the all but complete silence were horrible, but what was even worse was when he woke up sometimes thinking he heard voices. Slade's voice. Instructing him to do something he couldn't quite remember. But as soon as he awoke, it was gone again. Maybe it was a dream, maybe not, he couldn't tell. Sometimes he couldn't even tell if he was even really awake. He began talking to himself, and to Slade, more and more. It started with curses and pleas, but eventually moved on to full one-sided conversations and especially negotiations. He never got a single sign that the man was listening, though.
The drip kept the worst of the hunger away, and the water helped too. He had had to empty his bowels one more time, after several days, but after that they seemed to be empty. His bladder was another thing, but peeing into the hole had come to mean nothing to him now.
Whenever he was thirsty and started to feel a headache coming on he used the rubber cock. It almost became a game at the end, to see how much water he could get out of it by doing as little as possible. It turned out he could make it 'come' with only his hands, but it then only produced maybe half a cup of water, if even that. The most he got when he did his absolute best, and by now he had learned how to get it really deep down his throat. If he was too rough, though, or scraped it with his teeth, it would get soft and not even drip. Robin would have been impressed with the ingenuity of it if it hadn't been so sick.
All in all, not being able to move was the absolutely worst thing for him. That and the complete isolation and boredom. He had never understood isolation as a punishment before now. In his naïve mind some peace and quiet seemed like a perfectly alright way to spend some time, and maybe, with a book or something, it could be. He didn't even have as much as a label to read. He had looked. There was absolutely nothing to do. He sometimes entertained the thought of beating off, only to see if Slade would comment on it; proving he was watching. He always discarded the idea, though. Not only was it too intimate, he also seriously doubted that he would be able to even get hard.
When he had the extra energy, which wasn't often anymore, he tried his best to work out in the small space. Pushups on his knees, tiny leg lifts, anything not to lose his strength completely. The more his strength waned, the less he moved, though.
When Slade finally showed up again Robin was ashamed to admit that he all but flew up to the glass like an excited puppy.
"Position." Sighing, the teen obeyed, just to get it out of the way. "Good boy." Bzzzzz. "Have you thought about you need to do to get what you want?" the man asked.
Robin had. More or less every waking moment. Some things were obvious; Slade wanted to control him. Slade wanted to be called Master. Slade wanted him to obey his every command instantly. What the teen had struggled with was whether or not to do that. His initial answer was 'no', of course. He didn't want to obey the man, not even a little, but he also really, really wanted to at least stand up. He wasn't sure he even could, as he hadn't been able to as much as stretch out his legs in so long. So should he play along? Just for a while? The idea was tempting, but he didn't think Slade would fall for it, so he had more or less decided not to. But now the man was here. With the power to grant him anything at all. And he might leave for another week in just a few minutes. Robin couldn't handle that.
"Yes, Master," he mumbled, lowing his eyes and blushing. He still felt humiliated enough to do that, at least.
"Good boy. Tell me three things you want, which you think I might agree to."
"I… I would like to be allowed to stand up… to have a warm shower… and… maybe something to eat?"
"Good boy. All of those were reasonable requests."
Robin shivered through yet another pleasurable buzz and his hopes rose.
"So… will you let me…?"
"No."
Robin had never felt so crushed from a single word before. He all but collapsed from hearing it and had to fight back a sob. He just wanted-
"Please!" suddenly his thoughts turned into words, gushing out of him. "Please Master, I just want to stand up, just for a moment, please! There must be something I can do, just tell me! I'll do it! Please!"
"Good boy. That's what I want to hear. Close your eyes."
If it was an order just to see if he obeyed or a trust exercise Robin didn't know. It was hard to do, but he did it. He heard a weird sound, a faint whoosh, but kept his eyes shut. Suddenly a hand landed on top of his head, and he yelped from fright.
"Shh… calm down, you can open your eyes," the man told him. Robin was worried that he would find Slade naked, or at least with his cock hanging out, but no, the man was fully dressed, standing right in front of him. And there was no glass anywhere.
His whole body told him to bolt. Run. Fight. His brain told him that he was so weak he wouldn't get more than a few steps. His brain won this round and he remained seated, looking up at the man wondering what the next order would be.
"You smell."
"Yes, Sir," Robin admitted. It was true, after all. But not his fault.
"I guess it's time to have your cage cleaned, and you as well. Stand."
Robin was eager to obey this command and tried, he really did, but he was like Bambi on ice and in the end he had to grab onto Slade's arm so not to fall. He shot the man a hateful glare and thought he heard a dry chuckle from behind the mask.
"Aren't we agile?"
"What do you expect? I haven't stood in over a week!"
"Almost two now."
"Can't wait to lock you up and- AAARGH!"
Pain not coming from his already aching muscles struck him and he fell back on his knees.
"I hear you're not interested in getting up for another couple of weeks. Fine. I can wait," the man said and turned around.
"No! Wait! I'm sorry! Sl- Master!"
"I'm really too soft on you," the man said, almost to himself, but stopped. "Very well, follow me, and I'll send a bot to clean up here."
Follow? Robin couldn't even stand, and now he was expected to walk? His incredulous look must have given away his thoughts, because the man gestured to the floor. "Crawl if you have to, boy."
He did have to. At least until they reached a wall and he could use that for support. Slowly, slowly, his legs straightened more, but his muscles and joints screamed in pain and Robin was drenched in sweat when he noticed that the man had stopped. They hadn't even left the vast room, but as they had walked more lights had turned on and were now illuminating a small area of the wall with a showerhead and a little niche where a bottle of what Robin supposed was soap stood.
"Do you need help?"
"No, Master."
"Good boy. Make sure you're nice and clean. It depends on your behavior when you'll get a shower again, understood?"
"Yes, Sir."
Calling the man 'Sir' was slightly better than 'Master' Robin decided, and the man didn't seem to mind for now, as Robin wasn't punished with any pain. Only when he stepped under the spray – water! Wonderful, glorious, hot water which soothed his aching body, and as much as he wanted! – did he realize that he was naked. It had become such a second nature to him that he didn't even think about it anymore, but showering meant touching yourself rather… intimately. A lot intimately, as a matter of fact, as he wanted to make sure that his behind was clean as well. It couldn't be helped, though, but for a while he just stood, leaning against the wall, letting the water flow over him.
The soap was a cheap kind that smelled a bit like those at a hospital, but it was the most delicious smell in the world for Robin. He put a lot in his matted, greasy hair and repeated three times, and then used almost the entire bottle on the rest of his body. It hurt when he ran his hands over certain parts of his skin, like his hips and the outer side of his thighs, like he had giant bruises there. Sleeping and sitting on only a completely flat, hard surface for so long was beginning to leave marks.
He glanced over at the man when it was time to do his more intimate parts, and he was still there. Asking him to turn around would be fruitless and just draw attention to the fact that he was embarrassed, so Robin gritted his teeth and just went ahead. He couldn't afford to be sloppy either; not only did he not want to leave any grime behind; he also didn't want to leave any soap-residue, which might irritate his skin even more.
After lathering up completely one more time, making sure he cleaned between his toes and such as well, he rinsed off and had to admit that he was finished. If he stayed under the spray after obviously being clean, he would only annoy the man, which he didn't really want to do. Instead he decided to butter him up a little.
He walked towards him, a bit more steadily now, until he came to a stop in front of him, dripping wet.
"Thank you, Master."
"What a good boy." Robin didn't know if it was because he was wet or because the man was pleased with him, but the buzz seemed a bit more intense. "And they say teens are ungrateful."
Robin meant to snort, but to his horror the sound came out a bit more like a sob.
"Aw, no need to cry," the man taunted him and tilted his head up.
"I'm just tired!" Robin hissed, but because the man thought he was crying he felt actual tears well up in his eyes. Tears of anger and humiliation, not defeat, but they still looked the same.
"Well, I'm not surprised that you are," the man hummed. "Tired and afraid."
"I'm not afraid!"
"Of course you are. You're not an idiot," the man said, still holding the teen's chin surprisingly, maybe deceivingly, gently with his metal and kevlar gauntlet. "You know you can't escape and, while you are here, you also know that I can do anything I want to you. Anything at all." Robin shivered and the teen thought he saw the shaded eye behind the mask crinkle a little as if the man smirked. He realized that he had never been this close to the man for this long before. He could even see that his eye was blue or blue-grey and he also saw part of the eyebrow which looked… white? That was a bit surprising, but it couldn't possibly be from age. "Yes… anything," Slade continued. "Now, look at you. All wet like a drowned kitten… shall we act nicely and get a towel, or shall we be annoying and go back in the cube to freeze? Well?" he added when Robin didn't answer.
"I'll… be good, Master," the teen muttered. He wouldn't put it past Slade to turn the temperature down so he really would freeze.
Not much later he was drying off, trying to be through but also taking as long as he dared. They were back close to where the glass cube used to be before it had disappeared when Robin had had his eyes closed. A bot had just left and Robin saw that the floor of the cage, which was still there of course, now was sparkling clean, including the drain. That meant that he was going back there. He didn't want to go back there. He really, really didn't. He could feel his heart racing just at the thought.
"That's enough. There," the man said and pointed to the floor drain, indicating that Robin should go to it. "Position."
"Wait-" the teen said and backed away a little. "I don't-AAAAHH!" he crumpled to the floor as his legs were suddenly not only rendered useless but also burned in intense pain.
"Do I have to tell you again?" Slade asked as he stopped the pain with another click or two on his control.
"No, but… but you don't have to lock me up! You already control my body; you don't have to do any of this! I'll do what you say, you don't have to put me back in there!" he was desperate now, especially as the man hadn't given him any orders that didn't just had to do with Robin himself. He could demand more, after all. Much more.
"We're not bargaining or discussing anything here, boy; I gave you an order."
Robin knew he couldn't run. He could hobble at best, but Slade would be able to catch up to him by merely walking… that was if the batteries in that control panel miraculously ran out or something. If not Robin would be walking back whether he wanted to or not. Or be on the floor screaming in pain. Resisting truly only made it worse.
"Yes, Master," he sighed and fought to get back on his feet, limping to the spot Slade wanted him in and sinking down on his knees again, hands by his side, back straight, chin raised.
"Better. But I don't want to see anything like that from you again, boy. I know you have a strong will, a lot of pride. Those things will only bring you pain. You should put them aside willingly before I have to tear them out of you."
"Yes, Master." Robin mumbled. He almost wished that he could forget about those traits. This would surely be easier if he could.
Robin had to hold himself in check as the walls rose around him. One rose higher than the rest and folded down to form the ceiling, and once the material connected with each other it looked like it melted together. Robin really wanted to find out what this new 'glass' was, not only because it was impressive, but because he wanted to know how to manipulate it. That would mean asking Slade, though, and he wasn't that curious at the moment.
As the man turned as if to leave, the teen had to speak up, though.
"When are you coming back?"
"You'll see," Slade answered and then he was gone.
Robin swore quietly and settled down to wait. The 'water cooler' was back in position, and refilled, but he wasn't thirsty. Eventually he lay down, curling up in a corner and not long after the room turned dark.
Things mostly changed after that. Slade wasn't gone for more than a few hours and when he returned the first order was, as always, 'Position.' This continued through the next couple of days and weeks. Robin was rarely alone unless the room was dark, which he now interpreted as that he should rest. That was hard, though, and the amount of sleep he actually managed to catch was pitiful. Mostly it was because his body hurt, but also because the panic –the claustrophobia – never left him completely. Sometimes the man still seemed to be gone a long time but Robin had lost the ability to keep track. He felt like a dog that was just as happy to see his master after five minutes as five hours.
Slade let him stand up a lot more often now; sometimes he was even let out alltogether. As long as he behaved and did what he was told he wasn't hurt. The orders were usually simple; to make a certain movement, to answer a few questions… to listen as the man talked about whatever was on the 'schedule' for the day. He was still on the drip, but now and then Slade brought him simple meals. A cup of soup or noodles, a fruit… eating meant that the food had to go somewhere, and Robin didn't like what that lead to. He couldn't resist the smell of the meals, however, and he was severely punished if he refused them.
Surrendering was an option. It was always an option. Especially to Slade.
There was only a matter of time before his body had had enough and rebelled by getting sick. First there was just a headache, and those were almost constant anyway. Then he started shivering. He didn't say anything when Slade came by, because he didn't think it was any use –maybe it was even the man making him feel this way, through the sensors? Robin had learned not to trust anything his body did.
Today seemed to be bathing day, but even the shower couldn't warm Robin up. As his vision swam he realized that he had to say something or risk being punished because he had missed an order he was too sick to hear.
"M-Master…?" Slade beckoned him over when Robin spoke up, and the teen walked over to him on shaky legs.
"Yes?"
"I… I don't feel… don't feel so good."
Slade almost shocked him by removing his glove and pressing his bare hand against Robin's forehead. The young hero let out a dry sob. The feel of human skin against his, an actual touch, overwhelmed him. Everything was suddenly too much and he felt himself being caught in the air just before blacking out. He was only under for a few moments and when he came to he was being carried somewhere. Tiredly he looked ahead and saw the glass cage coming closer.
"No… no, no, no, no…" he mumbled, turning to Slade, grabbing hold of him and burying his face against the man's neck. He didn't care about the cold metal of the man's armor digging into his skin; he clung to the man like his life depended on it. Right now it felt like it did. If Slade would just listen! "Please… please Master, don't… don't put me back, don't leave me, please… please, I can't… I can't…"
"It's your place. There's only one bed in this building and that's mine."
"Then please take me there! Please!" Robin had to pause as his vision swam again. He then rested his head against the man's shoulder and continued in barely a whisper. "My whole body hurts… so much… Please Slade… Please Master…"
"I only take people to bed to fuck them." Slade had stopped, right in front of the raised floor. Robin knew he was moments away from being placed down on it again, and he didn't think he would survive if that happened.
"Then fuck me," he whispered.
"Really?" the man snorted.
"Yes. Anything. Please." When Slade carried him away, Robin let his mind go blank and closed his eyes.
Softness. Incredible softness and some sort of… cool warmth…? Was that even possible? He didn't know; he just experienced it. He mostly slept. Sometimes when he woke up he was ice cold, sometimes hot as hell. Sometimes there was a water glass pressed against his lips, sometimes a damp cloth wiping him down, including his private parts. Sometimes he woke up to a warm wetness spreading around his groin and he dimly relaized that he was wetting himself, but he was too tired to care. When he woke up next he was usually dry again.
"Drink." The order came as the rim of something touched his lips. Robin obeyed instantly but coughed in surprise when the fluid wasn't water, as he expected, but something warm and spicy. "It's broth. Your fever's down, time to get some energy into you."
The teen opened his eyes blearily as he drank, looking up at the cold, indifferent mask. All of a sudden he was overwhelmed with the need for his kidnapper to care. Care more than just keeping him alive. And to show it. He needed Slade to be human. Still drinking obediently, Robin wound his arms around the armored chest, trying to feel… something. A heartbeat? Not likely with all that protective gear, but maybe at least some actual body heat. He wanted the man to take off his gloves again, he wanted to see the skin, feel it against his, only as a reassurance of… what? He didn't quite know, or rather, he couldn't put it into words. Because he knew. He knew exactly what he needed.
"Well, aren't you cuddly?" the man snorted. Robin ignored him and kept drinking until the mug was empty. Once it was, so was the teen's energy level, and he gratefully sank back against the pillows once the man let him. "I'll wake you in half an hour for a shower," he was told as he drifted off.
The water felt great. Slade had to hold him up, though, and was getting soaked in the process, something Robin would have taken some pleasure in if he had been feeling better. Soap, more water, a towel rubbing all over him and then he was wrapped up and sat in an armchair while Slade changed the sheets of the large bed. Again, Robin might have found the scene funny if he hadn't longed for sleep so much. He hoped he would be allowed back into it and smiled a tired but happy smile when he was. He knew that he would have to pay for this comfort, but anything was worth not going back to the glass cage for.
The better and more alert he felt as the hours passed, the more he worried, though. It couldn't, he reasoned, hurt more than the torture Slade already had put him through. It just couldn't.
The next time the man entered, Robin was sitting up in bed.
"Feeling that well, are we? Position!"
The order was so familiar that the teen felt a pang of gratitude as he quickly shuffled up to his knees.
"On the floor." Slade pointed to a spot in front of his feet.
"Oh, sorry!" the words slipped out of him as he scrambled to the floor. Once settled, he looked up at the man expectantly.
"Good boy." The zap of pleasure that predictably followed those words lasted for several long seconds and had the teen panting slightly when it stopped. A moment later something almost just as good: Slade's bare hand was feeling his forehead again. "The fever is definitely gone now, you'll be well enough to continue your training in a few days."
"Yes, Master," Robin nodded solemnly. "Does… does that mean I have to go back to the cage?"
"Well, you know what it will cost you to stay here, don't you? Or were you too sick to remember our deal?"
Robin considered claiming ignorance for a moment, but then changed his mind. Slade would know. Lying to his Master was bad.
"I remember, Sir," he answered.
"And you still want to stay?"
"Would…. would I have to pay often, Master?"
"Every night. And you owe me for almost a week now."
Robin hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Yes, Master."
"You agree?" the man sounded like he needed to have it confirmed.
"Yes, I… I don't want to go back to the cage, Master. Please?"
"Seems to me that you don't appreciate all the trouble I went through when it comes to your containment."
Robin's eyes widened. "I… I didn't mean… I… I'm sorry!"
"Very well. Get on the bed and close your eyes."
"R-right now?"
"Do I need to repeat myself? I thought we were past that part of your training?"
Robin hurried upon the bed again and took a deep breath as he closed his eyes. He felt a slight sting in the corners of them, which was weird and made him rub his face.
"Now open your eyes again."
The Titan did his best to obey, but found that he couldn't. The muscles that made it possible seemed to have seized up. He grunted in bewilderment, a rising sense of panic thrumming in his chest.
"Good. Settle down. It's just the transmitters on the side of your face. I ordered the electrodes to burrow into your eye muscles to control those too."
"E-Electrodes?"
"Thinner than silk threads. You didn't think just patches on your skin could control you so completely, did you? This is why you can't rip them off: they are very much a part of your very flesh."
That made Robin shiver, but he lowered his head, accepting what the man said. Acceptance was so easy now. He didn't know why he had used to fight him, what was the use?
The scrape of metal and the sound of heavy cloth against skin made the teen raise his head again, warily. The man was undressing. Robin was, of course, naked as usual, but he slowly arranged himself so he was leaning against the pillows waiting.
"What have you learned since I brought you here?" his Master suddenly asked.
"I… I don't know… I guess… I guess that I've learned that I'm yours?" Robin started out carefully. "That… what you want is what matters, and if I don't do what you say you'll punish me."
"Good boy." The buzz made Robin gasp this time, it was so intense. "But what about your ideals? What about being a hero?"
"You were generous and let my friends live," Robin quickly answered. "I'm just a human, I don't matter much, I could never make a real difference; I was fooling myself." The words came so easily, so extraordinary easily, like he had heard them a thousand times. It was like he had dreamed them, but the voice had been Slade's. They fit, though. They made sense. They were right.
"Correct." The bed dipped and Robin drew away just a little. "Are you scared?"
"Y-Yes."
"Don't you trust me? Haven't I taught you that I won't hurt you unless you have deserved it?"
The teen felt ashamed of himself. "Yes, you have Master. I'm sorry. I'm just… nervous."
"That's understandable. Don't worry. You'll learn this skill just as you have learned others. You're a good boy, Robin, aren't you?"
The teen beamed with pride and was suddenly more eager to do his best. He definitely wanted to please his Master, but he was afraid that he would do something wrong.
"May… may I touch you, Sir?" he asked carefully.
"Go ahead."
Robin reached forward blindly, apologizing when his hand suddenly bumped into the man's chest, fingers first.
"Seems we need to trim your nails again," Slade told him. Robin couldn't remember them ever doing that, but he just nodded at first before hesitating.
"Master, how… how long have I been here?"
"About eight months."
"W-what?" That seemed like a frighteningly long time. He was pretty sure he had lost days here and there, but weeks? He couldn't remember much, most of the time just melted together. What had happened? What had been done to him? Why didn't he remember?
"Breathe, boy. Focus on me. Focus on your Master. I'm here. Good boy." The voice broke through the internal turmoil and panic, taking control. It always took control. It was control. Robin breathed calmer.
"I'm so sorry, Master."
"Make it up to me."
"Of course!" the teen suddenly remembered what he was doing, and raised his hands once more. Even though it was fascinating feeling the man's actual chest and stomach, Robin knew what was expected of him and there was no reason to dawdle. His hands found a very familiar shape soon enough, caressing it until it started to grow. The man really had used his own member to mold the 'water dispenser' in his cage, and talking about that; Robin knew that just holding the length wouldn't do.
"Um, do you want me to… um… suck it?" he asked, embarrassed to even have to use the words.
"Yes."
Robin tried bending over but it was a really awkward position.
"Is… is it okay if I sit on the floor?" he asked.
"Of course." The man sounded amused which would normally annoy the teen, but now soothed him. Master was in a good mood.
The taste was different but wasn't much worse than sucking your own thumb, and even though he couldn't see anything he could tell Slade kept himself clean. Not that it mattered; the thing was going down his throat even if it was sweaty and covered in old head-cheese. Robin was well practiced by now, and did exactly what he did to the water dispenser when he was really thirsty. It seemed to work because five minutes later Slade gently but firmly pushed him away.
"You're too good at that and I don't want to come down your throat."
Robin didn't need to ask where Slade wanted to come, so he just climbed back into bed and got on all fours, expecting this to be the position the man would want him in.
"Eager?" Slade teased him.
He didn't know if it was a last tiny drop of rebellion, but Robin answered back, though he kept his voice humble. "I'm just very… tired, Master. I… I want it to be over."
"You're not afraid?"
"I know it will hurt… a lot if you want it to, Sir. I can't do anything about that… I thought I could, once, but… I can't… if you want to hurt me, you're going to hurt me. I'm… I'm just trying to be a good boy."
"Don't worry… you're perfect."
That amount of praise was almost too much for Robin, he nearly burst out crying from if not happiness, then relief. It was hard to tell the difference now. It was hard to remember how true happiness felt.
In the end it wasn't as bad as he had feared. His Master used a lot of lubrication and his fingers, and when it was time for the entry he activated the transmitters, drowning Robin in pleasure instead of pain. When it was completely over the teen had come three times.
Over the days and weeks he was trained fully in his new role of pleasuring his Master, and he became very skilled at it. He didn't have to go back to the cage. A couple at the time the transmitters were taken away. There was no need for them anymore.
One night months, perhaps a year, later Robin was curled up to his Master in bed, both satisfied after the evening's activities. The teen didn't speak that often, but he did now.
"Master? May I ask a question?" he said in his soft voice. His new voice. The one that wouldn't make Master angry.
"Yes?"
"Did you always mean for me to serve you like this?"
"Why do you ask?"
"I was just thinking… in the beginning-" Robin shuddered at the memories of that time. He had been so bad! So, so bad! "-in the beginning I thought that maybe… maybe you wanted me as your apprentice again?"
"I merely wanted you, boy," the man answered. "Why would I risk your life out there? Breaking you to the point of stone cold killer? No, I choose to break you in a very specific way, so that you would truly become mine. I knew it was only a matter of time."
Robin nodded, satisfied with the answer.
"I am yours," he smiled warmly and settled against the man's chest.
Surrendering wasn't a choice. It was never a choice. Not to Slade.
The End
A/N: a bit different for me, but tell me what you think. And yeah, sorry, I opted to leave most of the graphic sex out of it, it just didn't fit the 'feel' of the story to suddenly start describing man-sausages and poop holes in detail, okay? ;)