Sladin of Bust! Explicit One – Shots from the Vault of Sladin –
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Stolen My Heart of Stone and Amber Grace
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In this, Dick is a phantom thief who goes to steal the art collection of a rich Count. He gets more than he bargained for by the end of the night. Inspired by Gentleman Thief Lupin and The masked "Zorro." This is a Victorian industrial era time line, or I'll try to keep it that way for now. Characters will be used in other roles, Tim is not related to Dick and Slade barely knows Richard by face except that Sir Wayne had adopted him. See how it all plays out….rolling!
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~ Masked burglar spotted the night before; big unveiling to be help tomorrow of a noble foreign Count's collection from –
"Burglar?!"
The mask came to the floor and cape of a black bat with it; the one reading a rather new newspaper in his seat, so very….
"Have you heard about this, Timothy?"
"Have I heard of what, Brother?"
A dark-haired teen came out from procuring his late-night snack in the kitchen. The manor had been deserted, until some up-and-coming family of two boys; only sixteen and nineteen, both were alone in this big house so many fine treasures that it could become, a controversial thing to take not for granted any longer.
"Ah, the hog wash they print about my mask, who I am!" The elder was the orphaned child of two performers who'd left him in the care of a fine gent who'd since gone amiss since the previous few months. The gentleman Sir Wayne, had kept the two, Timothy and Richard clothed and fed as he too had suffered from the loss of his own caregivers long before.
Now, he was nowhere for them to know, save for a slip of paper and his will going off to his eldest boy, Richard.
"I've inherited only a bit of it, but those men took our things and our home from us, Timothy." Richard said to his brother as Tim came to scoop up the paper to roll it and used the parcel to tap Richard's shoulder. To tell him to not lose his temper to an inanimate object.
"You are STEALING." Tim warned his brother. "Father would not have wanted you to walk the path of a coward and thief, even to keep us from ending up in the poorhouse…" Tim bit into his treat as the sweetness remained bitter on the tongue. Nothing tasted as it should have, not a thing would unless Dick made amends and recovered all of the glorious art that Mr. Wayne's mother had crafted in her spare days alive. He'd promised to do what he could to secure her name and memory. To not allow any crafty merchant or wily savant to take from her troves that were meant for Wayne's own children to glance up upon.
"The art will feed us, yet we'll be caught before that security might ever fall into our laps." Tim pursed his lips to say, speaking through his fears a lot these days, he knew that Dick had been very attached to Wayne and all of his kindness since the day they'd both come to see one another as a family.
Tim went to sit by the arm of Dick's chair. The fire at the hearth flickered by how chilly it would not be tonight, yet rain would patter upon the hat of the phantom thief.
"I must go out tonight, Timothy." Dick sighed and plucked up his domino mask from the rug by his feet.
"Then, at least put the account into a new name." Tim tugged and clung to the elder's arm, trying to pry him away from being exposed to all of London (Keeping it not in Paris.)
"I cannot make a promise to you and to Martha Wayne, Timothy." The older son gave his brightest grin as he untangled those shuddering fingers from his upper arm with a bit of patience and care. "I won't be caught tonight. This Count doesn't know much of London's criminals." Dick chuckled, thinking it fun to trick not only queens or rulers of the lands beyond their own, yet to be damned right to see to it that all across that wide world, the name The Phantom Thief would no longer be demoted to that of a petty "burglar."
Richard left his brother by that night and did not bother to watch, as the kid returned to taking the paper that Dick had discarded, and as he tossed it into the fire with his head hung very low.
As if this was their last night collude with what lurked in the shadows.
More ill fate? Ill luck?
Tim slouched into that abandoned seat by the fire and ran a hand through his dark hair, trying to think of a way to escape the brother's risky legal battle that would surely catch up to them both by the end of those grueling next few months.
When Dick's unmasked face made the front page, as the crumpled print soon warped and twisted amid a mound of smoke and flame, Tim only recalled Sir Wayne's wise advice that he should stay atop any and every instance if given the chance to change any outcome to suit him….
He was not the true blood of Wayne, yet there had also been a promise of great things.
"Come home soon, brother…" Tim whispered into the lapping flames of the hearth's warming fire.
"You are all that I have left to remember him by…"
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The lights had since gone dim as the guards left; the manor of the last pertinent buyer, housing the gems of past and present, were up and on display for only few of the city to gaze upon.
Yet, there it stood –
A portrait of a mother with her child sitting in perfect balance before a great white oak tree. The show of color did not look dismal, yet hopeful…
It was not painted by Bruce Wayne's mother –
"Can I help you with something?"
Richard's feet might have made it to the picture that he'd sought for weeks, yet this figure in a robe of red with a black trim all in the finest silks?
He was surely a sight for sore eyes.
"You enjoy viewing my collection I see, especially that lovely painting." The man had a glass of brandy in his hands, just before bed he was up to no good as Richard felt his hair standing erect under the low light of the hallway.
"I'd procured that piece from a dealer run by Cobblepot Antiquities." The smile that man gave was to his guest, so there that too made the young thief quite wary as to whom he'd come to take back his father's prizes from.
"I'm also told that this picture had a twin." Richard remarked to the lord of this estate.
"Ah, you are… bird watching on the happenings of we "well – to - do?" folk?" Asked the prying eye of that military heroic.
"It's all I can do, not that this would be any of your Dukedom's business –
"I'm a sir, a master of this home." Drawled the older man with a quick yawn into his palm. "Would you not instead wish to outbid my last; you may have that painting, if you can guess what it is I desire most –
"Earls too curl their tails to such, sure trickery." Dick spat out, very flustered by such a request. (Black butler joke in there, comment!)
Richard raised his weapon to the man, who did not flinch. A warrior in his blood as well, it looked.
"I shall take, you'll be on your back while non may tell I was even present –
"On the contrary, shadow child…" (Red X gag there.)
Richard tensed; his dark gloves clenched, and he growled below his face mask at this new breed of villain in his midsts.
"You should stay, and have an honest drink with me; to discuss what I should do to nosy brats who can't keep their hands off of my belongings.
Two automatons flew from out of the room to grab the thief's long cape. His father's, as the red clad male stepped closer with a cold glazed eye upon his catch of the hour.
Before having his catch knocked senselessly into a daze, while having the boy moved from the next room on to another clad in the shadows of this man's truest intentions.
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The lamplight of a burning day unto night meant one thing; he was not in his own bed at the manor. Nor, was Tim there to berate the hero as he rolled over and found himself chained down to the posts of a large bedroom -
"What is this??" Richard shouted, coming to.
"You'd brought this on to yourself, Little son of Wayne."
Dick gaped and realize it when a man twice his height and in only a piece of cloth to his lower bits brought forth a hand mirror for the teen to see his own reflection.
"My….my mask…." The hero gulped. "You…you cannot un-
"You are a thief, now." The male paced the bed, watching his tied down temptation thrust forth to bite through the ache in his wrists and ankles.
"Those can extend, yet I don't wish to ruin any of the fun I've planned for your, punishment…. Richard Wayne. The eldest Wayne adopted into the Lord's home even before his death…now turned criminal due to the father's disappearance…. how interesting…" The elder rubbed his chin while the ire in the teen's glance never withered once.
"You'll let me go immediately, or face the courts of –
"London can burn for all I care, as long as I'm able to put a sleeping pup to bed, once…"
"How ill you think of us!" Richard snorted. "I'm no one's pup, and the law won't –
"That won't work on me, who do you think aided Sir Luthor of Metroplin to see to Wayne's extended holiday, boy?"
The man loomed in closer, fastening the bind to have a bit of give, liking the idea of hunting down his favorite addition.
"You caught me as bright before, yet did you think that the paintings were just works of art?" Chuckled the mad man. "No, they were priceless for another reason…"
"Why?" The trembling voice of Richard's, it was his yet…of rage.
"Why DID YOU KILL MY FATHER???"
"I did it on a coaxing by that Count. The one they called Ra's Al -Ghul. From the (Time period!) Orient, who runs many places there that would have had Alex and I wealthier than Lord Wayne's whole amily – but not only that. The toxic substance of the amber stone; a green hue, each embedded into the paintings that Wayne no longer has in his possession…."
"The kryptonite..." (Kryptonite.)
Dick gasped and paled by the words his father had spoken. None should recover all of the pieces; it was a cursed thing with t\he power to destroy the monarch, the queen's country…
All of London would fall…
"It can power as a source any ship to never hold the need for oil, it can…make an army of soldiers unbeatable – and I want it for my nation and Luthor wished for the queen's crown since day one –
" Treason !"
"And you acted as a spy for your father without knowing it. Poor, stupid Wayne child…" Laughed the greedy monster as he stepped up to the bed. The boy quivering and as enraged as his father needed him to be for Tim's sake. For all of London!
"Now, I deem it fit since you've failed your little mission to take what I desire most…"
Dick just scrunched up his eyes and sneered at the evil face in his way, one eye and so much blood…. his father's one of many enemies standing before him, joining the child as the bed dipped slightly more with a low creak.
"I will resist, your methods of torture…. the city will… -
Shush now, the thing you see…." Slade turned down the lamp lower as a faint odor of opium squeezed his lungs –
"No!" Just…if he took a whiff, it would ruin him. Make him seek a devil in the darkness. So, Richard flailed his head until a pipe got caught there and he coughed on it. He could not bear the reason, none so small as his body soon fell back into the sheets surrounding him…
"There, relax. I promise…" the man was taking to himself as Richard's vison became hazy and distorted, the heat in his veins now not to icy fear, but of…a stranger still, warmth.
"You won't feel a thing…" (tt haunted.)
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Tim paced and saw the old grandfather clock by the corner of his green eyes. Ready to chime, and Richard had at last…broken his word.
"I'll not contact you, there is no way…" Tim ran to the phone and dialed the only number he could memorize while his fingers still shook…
"Officer..." The boy wept into the line, yet hid his other tears for later as a gruff male picked up.
~I …. uh….late, kiddo? What's wrong with you, lad? Why are –
"My brother!" Timothy put a hand to his lips and trembled into it.
"My brother has not come home! Please, chief Gordon…" Tim sobbed harder. "I want you to help me search for him, before he ends up as our father did…"
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Lord Wayne had not been abused as Richard was about to; his body lying well asleep until something of a smelling sat had him come to.
"Up for a game of cribbage?"
"N…" Dick shook his head, the foggiest taste of alcohol had him wince.
"I told you to relax." Sighed the voice as it came for him, the figure blurry as something scraggly and soft brushed past the teen's numbed lips.
"You're not trying hard enough, lad." The kiss was ended as Lord Wilson frowned at his new captive.
"Don't you want to save her majesty, little Wayne?" Slyly, he brought up Richard's reason to keep going. He had not asked much of Queen Victoria after his father had vanished, yet she'd protected them. He and Tim had no ill will towards their supposed Godmother. Victoria (Vicky Vale in this case.)
"She had a soft spot for you, I understand from the papers every month…had your manor kept to stand as it does now, didn't allow the rest of the country to panic when Lord Wayne simply wasn't there. Even his man servant. A, Pennyworth? HE didn't protest what we had to do to keep her majesty from barking orders –
"You…. you…. crimin –
" I'm the criminal?? Your father wanted the good people to suffer, boy. So that he wouldn't have any more competition!" The man twisted down to grip the brat's arms as he shoved them above his head.
"I may as well keep you. To my hip, to show the queen what it means to suck the bleeding cock of a man who's worth almost, NOTHING."
"Fath…"
" Poor you…" Slade let his voice become pitying again, his whiskers bristling as his tongue touched the tender flesh of the nape of the child's slender neck. Tasting sweat and shame as it went to trail lower.
"You were a performer before he took you under his wing, into his home…is that not the whole truth?" Slade propped up the boy's leg as he reached to have the underside exposed. Lips seeking still, lower.
Dick was numb, but his body still shuddered beneath blooming bruises, from his many encounters with danger. His pale complexation now darkest as red shifted as a sunset along his chest and shoulders. A gleam of sweat fell from his skull as his hair was matted, small breaths seeking their release while his boy hood now surely had grown erect by the toxins' doing.
"Your mother passed, not knowing who Wayne was, but a spy and watch dog for the queen, passing that role onto the only replacement he'd ever have a lifetime to train…" The man let his puffy lips move, with Dick arching up from the sensation of heat pulsing to his toes and up his spine.
It wasn't until, the lowest trail downwards, Wilson found not only his mark, but he decided not to wait for anyone to give him reason not to brand his new model in gold and amber.
"I should have you here, a molten figure clad in only your shame….make you my prized parrot to sing out to my guests. Make them feel as welcome as your display….does for this future lord…"
He let his hands move to grip at the younger's peeking member, just beginning to drop the pre – fluids that would end up strewn across his face and chest at the end of this lesson in espionage executions.
Slade took the shaft and began to pump, moving another set of fingers to lift the boy's ass as he found a further opening to toy with.
"Have you not been willing to go the extra mile, the step to your desires? Guess what my desire is, and I will let you come, my boy…"
The man rummaged too soon to what looked to be the side dresser, a drawer by the bed with a strange ring…. all leather and….
Not a ring….
A tie, as Dick noticed two items. A gagging strip of cloth, and a ring meant for…his didn't know as he came to. He didn't know what!
"Stay away! That cannot go into my –
"Less chatting, more making it up to me by playing…" Slade ran his smooth set of fingers over the length, taking the strange black ring with him to pop it over –
"ANG!!!"
"You were already..." Slade stopped, then returned to putting the gag round the kid's sputtering to make this job a bit easier. Erasing to heroics in one story. It wasn't going to fly off the shelves, yet who knew what the long future ahead may bring?
"There…comfortable?"
"MNn MMNN!!" The boy drooled past the gag, earning a pat on his cheek as his other cheek, was about to get plenty of attention while Wilson got back to work down below the boy's extra hole.
It needed to be taught a lesson as well, as Slade made sure to bring his finger up to the knuckle with one inch deeper to go….and another went, as the kid's head was thrown back, his body quaking without much to oppose.
"I've never made those I've ever bedded feel ashamed, dear Wayne…You should be honored, but after tonight…I wll claim you, and your brother may have the rest of your father's painting to burn. The memory will shatter him, I bet…" Slade prodded a third, making Dick hiccup while his own young cock seemed to twitch at the intrusion.
"Such an eager lord's son you are…very well."
And a forth, as the feeling of his orrgasm was halted, the kid kicking yet only bothering to bruise up his tied down ankles.
"Had enough?" Asked the count with a tilt of is head.
Dick bobbed his, but this was shrugged off as Wilson only pushed deeper, earning a jerk of Dick's head to the side instead.
"Another them, my my….you're quite lude for a child…let alone a noble's…"
Slade added his fifth and final, as Dick only hoisted himself nearly into a bridge, the laugh of his criminal keeper no great pleasure as all.
"We've only just started." Slade stroked the son's cock, right before letting his whole knuckle dig a bit more, stretching the son as he whined and begged behind the gag for this to end.
"I'm not going to stop yet; you are supposed to guess. Let's try it." With a hand from the kid's member as it stood taller, Slade let the gag peek out a bit so that the kid might answer him admirably this time.
"What….is it I desire most? Tell me –
"I'm…not…toying… -
"No? Though, I'd love to break you…"
The hand flew back to the boy's balls this time, pressing them as the soft and hard feeling was pressurizing against Dick's mentally damaged state of mind. He shook his head this time, biting down as his jaw refused to answer any more riddles until tom –
"How long will you give me??" The boy suddenly gasped out, still panting while inches from the mattress.
"Guess and I'll tell you…" The man twisted his five fingers in a clockwise motion within the boy's ass, his whole body near twisting left on command.
"I'll tell you, the truth about that father of yours, little lord…"
/
Tim met with Bullock and Gordon not far from the place that the thief would have shown about an hour prior to their arrival and recent discovery.
"You tellin' me this whole ordeal was started by a wee child??" Lt Harvey J Bullock seethed and crossed his arms. Being a gruff senior officer of the toughest places and roads in London, Officer Gordon was a light weight in his eyes when it came to dealing out justice among those of London's lower records. The Narrows was not only where scum liked to stew and brood, yet this location was not at all shoddy, but a bit well off. Someone lived in that estate a few yards off, and there was no doubt that the last person to properly bid on the portrait of Lady Martha Wayne's was in fact hiding more within his abode that met the subliminally dethatched eye.
Tim worked in an outfit of a boy from a different walk of life to blend in, to not seem as noble as his current upbringing. In truth, he was actually once as poor as the whole of the city's weakest links. So too was his deceased brother Jason, may he rest.
To this case, he knew this part of the city very well and where not to step. Unlike his rather sleep deprived officers of the law.
"This child holds the answers the crown keeps from Scotland Yard, Harvey." James Gordon, the tactical mathematician of the yard was a very god officer who'd been familiar with Lord Wayne for a vey long time. The two had grown up a different path all the same, yet together?
They'd made London stand tall, while Tim did have something to say to that.
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TO BE CONTINUED IN SCENE; PART TWO…..