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When Tim awoke, it was to a throbbing headache and sore muscles. He was laid upon hard stone, and surrounded by walls of glass, captured in a transparent cage in the midst of a vast and empty room. It was dark, so much so that if he hadn’t been wearing his mask and their thermal vision, he’d be blind. With eyes scouring across the room, Tim tried to gather as much information as possible without moving his head, not wishing to alert anyone of consciousness.
“I see you’re finally awake,” a dark voice echoed from behind him, urging Tim to release a swear under his breath. Turning around, he found Black Mask lounging in a great chair which appeared almost like a throne in the otherwise vacant room. “We’ve been waiting for you,” he finished, but before Tim got the chance to ponder about his company, they made themselves known with a deep growl coming from behind him.
Scrambling to his feet, Tim turned around to face Bruce’s familiar silhouette, standing but a couple of metres away from him. Though he’d also been deprived of his shoes and utility belt, Tim couldn’t help the massive wave of relief crashing over him. He was fully aware of his own capability - but having Batman around could hardly hurt. At least when their goals were aligned.
Though such relief lasted for a short second before a sense of anxiety dawned upon him.
Roman wouldn’t make it this easy for them.
As though heeding a silent command, Bruce started to march towards him with slow and daunting steps, capturing his eyes in an unsettling grip, his blues turned cold as ice, shining through the lens of his cowl.
”Batman, what- . What are you doing?” Tim questioned, instinctively taking a step back, hating the nervosity haunting his voice, hating the flush rushing to his face, hating the arousal rushing through him. Hating Black Mask’s satisfied chuckle from the other side of the translucent wall.
Bruce replied with nought but a low grunting noise, seemingly unbothered by Tim’s shaky retreat as he continued to stalk forwards.
They’d been infiltrating Sionis’ new base after Oracle informed them that Hood had gone radio silent following his attempt to take on the crimelord on his own. Odds were that he was not only fully capable of taking care of himself, but that he’d be enraged or at least vexed by their attempt to ’rescue’ him. Nevertheless, Bruce was hardly keen on allowing his second son to die a second time, and they’d shared but a look before they’d set off.
”Batman?” Tim asked nervously with a tinge of desperation to his voice, though he was far too worried to feign concern over it. What was Bruce doing? He couldn’t possibly be considering heeding the demand, could he? And if he were, wouldn’t he at least communicate it?
Tim was fully aware that Bruce wasn’t the most talkative person. But this silence wasn’t his.
”Dear little Robin, did you really think I would administer you and Batman the same dose?” Black Mask’s voice echoed, his arrogant satisfaction present in every syllable. ”A man his size would be sex-crazed on half the dose we gave him - dear Batsy must feel close to death lest he gets a good fuck right about now.” he laughed darkly, ”I’m sure you’re happy to oblige - After all, this can hardly be the first time you’ve had to attend to daddy’s needs, is it?”
Tim balled his fists in anger, glad he’d designed his costume in a way that allowed him to bestow his sharp nails in the palms of his hands. ”Are you crazy? That could be lethal!” He growled, looking at Roman right in the eye before a large set of shoulders interrupted his line of sight, crowding him further backwards until his back hit the wall. Without hesitation, Tim quickly moved aside before Bruce could capture him between his big arms. Despite the impenetrable daze of arousal surely heaving him down, Bruce’s movements remained unhindered, and Tim only barely managed to evade his grasping hand from clutching his arm. Knowing he needed every advantage he could get, Tim allowed Bruce to catch a grip of his cape in his following twirl, detaching right as he moved outside its reach, maintaining the connection for as long as he could afford. Bruce noticed his scheme immediately, ripping his cape apart in rage before lunging after him, apparently choosing no longer to play, but now choosing to use his size advantage in full.
Tim danced around his former mentor for as long as he could, though never deluding himself into believing he could actually win.
Right as he evaded yet another grasping hand by shooting off to Bruce’s right, Tim realised he’d miscalculated their distance to the offending wall holding them hostage. Though he only brushed his arm against the smooth surface, it proved to slow his motions enough for Bruce to capture him by his collar, choking him as he dragged his former protegé across their cell, hauling him off his feet to pin him against the wall. Keeping his wrists in a tight grip above his head, not even providing him the dignity of balancing his own weight. Bruce pressed his body against his, effectively swallowing him whole, his broad shoulders shielding the outside world from his eyes, leaving only him in his line of sight.
With a gulp, Tim looked up to meet Bruce’s eye, discovering an intense gaze and dilated pupils devouring any and all flickers of his baby blues.
”Batman. Listen to me. You do not want this.” Tim tried. Pleaded. Trying to find any sign of sobriety in his dark and hungry eyes.
”You have no idea what I want,” Bruce growled in response, grinding his hips against him, forcing a gasp to escape his lips. Satisfied with Tim’s response, Bruce kept rolling his hips until Tim was a writhing mess, unsure whether he was squirming to escape or to seek further stimulation. Tim needn’t be told that his ivory complexion had waned in favour of a crimson flush, a transformation which seemed to please the older man.
With big eyes surely plagued by hesitance and panic, Tim looked up in pursuit of any recognition in Bruce’s familiar baby blues - yet he was met with naught but lust and corruption. His eyes seemed never to divert from Tim, watching him with such intensity it felt like he was trying to commit every one of his gasps, his moans, whimpers and whines to memory, as though he was trying to record the experience with nought but his senses alone. Tim wanted to divert his gaze but found himself held hostage by Bruce’s dominating presence, with each blink feeling like a transgression viable for punishment.
With nought but a faint imitation of a grin to warn him, Bruce halted his hips with a final push against Tim’s groin, pressing himself closer to his victim with his ever so watchful eyes. The arm blocking his side was removed and lowered, but before Tim could follow its path Bruce burrowed his face in the crook of his shoulder. Providing himself access to the tender flesh on his throat by further ripping the collar of the suit until it hung uselessly down his chest. Having found what he’d been after, Bruce wasted no time attacking the sensitive skin now revealed to him.
Tim squirmed as a wet tongue made its way down his throat, hard and slow as though Bruce was really trying to savour the taste of nervous arousal. He continued his crusade across Tim’s Adam’s apple, urging a whine out of his sidekick as he pushed against the sensitive area. Encouraging his further attention as Bruce engulfed it with his lips and started sucking, causing Tim’s eyes to widen deliriously as he choked upon his own moans. Tim’s increasingly frenzied state seemed to flicker a switch within Bruce, who immediately replaced his slow and punishing approach with the intensity of starvation. Biting, sucking, and kissing his way across Tim’s throat, seemingly intent to mark every last inch with his teeth, claiming him as his own.
The hand not restraining his wrists grabbed hold of the yellow strings tying his red armour piece, ripping them to shreds before throwing away the offending piece of protection. The rest of his uniform - the shoulder plates, his utility belt, elbow armour, all followed next, and Tim could do nothing but take it as he continued to rip the rest of his costume to shreds until every inch of skin was revealed and open for his eyes to feast upon. Leaving only the domino mask to protect his identity.
”My, would you look at that,” Black Mask spoke, suddenly making his presence known following an extended period of silence - of simply watching. ”Full of surprises, aren’t you, Robin?” He continued, his tone low and dark with amusement as he nodded towards Tim’s cunt, somehow provoking even more blood to rush to his face. Bruce turned his head to growl possessively, though Roman simply laughed at his collared beast. ”Don’t worry, Bats. No one will take your sweet Robin until you’re done with him.” He chuckled, never diverting his eyes from Tim.
”How many know of that sweet little baby maker between your legs?” He questioned, ”I suppose it must be a rather well-kept secret, yes?” A sinister smile spread across his lips. ”After all, I know more than a few who would be very… interested in impregnating a Robin. Forcing the batclan to feed and care for their children. To take you and breed you the moment one pregnancy ends.”
”What do you want?” Tim spat, at this point barely concerned with his breathy voice, satisfied with his ability to form words at all despite Bruce’s assault as the older man moved down to his chest and collar bones, still intent to make his claim.
”I’m merely speculating, baby.” Roman replied in feigned nonchalance, ”But keep that gracious attitude, for I might just come up with something.” He winked, and Tim wanted to bite back, but his words were swallowed by a loud whine as Bruce grew tired of his inattention, biting down on one of his nipples as he cruelly twisted the other. “Seems like playtime is over,” Roman mused with a serpentine grin, never withdrawing his gaze from his two puppets.
As though following an unheard command, Bruce withdrew his hands and teeth as he took a step backwards, unceremoniously dropping him down to the floor, leaving Tim on his knees. Without warning, he grabbed a fistful of Tim’s hair, half-dragging him where Tim failed to crawl back to the centre of their cell.
Once they’d arrived at their destination, Bruce tilted Tim’s head upwards, greeting him with his rock-hard erection. Letting go of his grip, Bruce adjusted his grasp by grabbing hold of his scalp with his two large hands, his strong and calloused fingers entwining themselves amidst midnight locks. Pulling him forwards until his nose was buried in Bruce’s dark pubes, his lips hovering above his large testicles whilst his oversized cock pressed against his cheek.
“Come on now, little bird. Don’t leave daddy waiting.” Roman purred sadistically, leaning forwards in his seat from intrigue. Tim turned his eye away from the dark hair, though only succeeding to see his stupid mask, as his line of sight was otherwise shielded by hot, throbbing flesh. “You could start by giving his balls some attention - show them how much you look forward to being filled with their seed,” he laughed darkly, urging Tim to gulp nervously. He could feel Bruce’s grip on his hair grow tighter and knew that if he didn’t do something now, then Bruce was going to do it for him.
Shutting his eyes close, Tim tentatively stuck his tongue out to lick the nearest testicle, caressing the burning skin with less than wavering confidence. In response, Bruce released a bestial growl and pressed him even closer against him until his balls were pressing against Tim’s lips to open. When Tim finally acquiesced, his oral orifice was swiftly filled with hot meat, though Bruce paid little mind to his muffled anxiety as he kept tilted his head back in a deep groan.
Tim, forcing himself to realise that this was happening, further compelled himself to swirl his tongue around the sensitive flesh, licking the flesh invading his mouth passion before sucking on it, only barely managing to maintain his ministrations and withhold a sigh of relief as Bruce’s grip loosened, allowing Tim to move to next sack, providing it with similar treatment.
“Good boy…” Bruce suddenly growled, his words surrounded by deep and downright animalistic moans as Tim kept pleasuring his testicles. Despite himself, Tim feels a shiver travel down his spine upon hearing the praise, urging the already fiery heat to blossom two folds, settling a deep ache in his groin. He moaned around his mouthful of flesh, and a part of him couldn’t help but be grateful for the unwanted gag.
“Good boys deserve rewards, don’t they?” Tim heard Roman tease, sounding far more distant than before. Bruce grunted something in reply, and though Tim could perfectly hear the sound of his voice, his brain refused to decipher their meaning. Too occupied thinking about the cock resting on his face, the precum leaking onto his hair, the balls in his mouth.
Tightening his grip on Tim’s hair, Bruce removed him from his testicles with one harsh pull; carrying enough force that Tim would’ve surely been slammed to the ground lest the same grip kept him on his knees.
For a moment, they were still - and for one foolish, stupid, dumb, idiotic, brainless second, Tim almost thought - almost dared to believe - that the real Bruce had returned to his senses.
Instead, Bruce unceremoniously pulled him forwards once again, sliding his cock into his mouth as though Tim was nothing more than a fleshlight. Roughly pushing inch after inch inside him, recklessly disregarding Tim’s muffled cries and protests.
The bottom of Bruce’s dick slipped over his tongue as the top scraped against the roof of his mouth as it made its way to the very back. Tim pitifully held his jaw ajar, feeling his skin crack beneath the stretch as he pushed beyond its capacity.
At least no one else was there to witness. At least Roman’s greed kept him from humiliating Tim even more by having his friends and family watch his pathetic state.
He allowed himself to momentarily wish he was more like the other Robins - they were all either too brave, too proud, or simply too reckless or audacious to let this happen to them. They’d clench their jaw and bite Bruce’s dick off if that would be necessary - in fact, Bruce would probably be upset with him for not doing that. Tim was, after all, the only one of them fully aware and conscious. Bruce was the victim here, not him. He was rather the predator, and Bruce should be upset and disgusted with him-
He was forced back to reality when Bruce slapped him with his cock, leaving an imprint of its silhouette made with Tim’s saliva on his cheek.
”You’re thinking too loudly little bird.”
Tim wanted to respond, to bite back, to do something to prove to himself that he hadn’t given up completely. He knew it’d be useless, that his words wouldn’t bear any impact except make the situation worse for himself - but he had to make some resistance and loathed himself for his acquiescence.
He turned his head and opened his mouth in protest, but got no chance to give voice to his words before two strong hands turned his head back before shoving his dick inside of him. With one forceful thrust, Bruce penetrated his maw as though he was but a toy, only coming to a halt when the tip reached the entrance to his throat. All at once, Tim could feel his body tense, reflexively clenching the tunnel in his throat in a helpless attempt to protect itself from the oversized invader. He could feel the tears swell over the corners of his eyes as he gagged around Bruce’s cock, soon running in streams down his cheeks. Through thick lashes and the tears yet lingering upon them, Tim looked up in an attempt to seek Bruce’s eyes - his Bruce, the real Bruce. Not the sex-crazed monster the drugs had turned him into. Yet, he was met with nought but dilated pupils gazing down at him hungrily. His only indication that he’d actually been seen taking the shape of a rush of precum spurting from the cock in his mouth once their eyes met. Shooting the preliminary load straight down his throat, choking him further until Tim’s lithe body was further wrecked by choked cries.
The head of Bruce’s cock poked upsettingly into his oesophagus without going all the way down, blocking his air paths until the edges of his vision turned black. Guided by nothing but instinct, Tim raised his hands decisively, pushing Bruce’s thighs as his insides kept burning.
Bruce quickly pulled him off his cock, dragging him with such force he pushed Tim down to the ground. Once freed, Tim greedily sucked in as much air he could muster before a powerful coughing fit captured him, shaking him to his core as the painful sounds bounced off the walls in an echo.
Indifferent to his grasps for breath, Bruce pushed his body across Tim’s back, pinning him to the glass wall in perfect view for Roman. Only allowing some inches of separation when wrapping his big, strong arms around his chest, taking the chance to roughly play with his nipples whilst his cock pushed against his entrance, smearing pre-cum all over his hole and vulva. Forcing Tim to face his arousal as he caressed his clitoris, and with each touch, Tim could feel himself tense from the overwhelming sensation. As his thrusts grew increasingly frustrated, with his tip teasing his entrance by increasingly allowing its penetration, Tim, in turn, felt himself trembling in half-fear half-arousal as his agitation only grew for each second he remained empty. Knowing that Bruce’s cock was going to split him in half any moment now.
He could feel Bruce smirk behind him as he placed a series of wet kisses below his neckline before he raised his right hand to take an iron hold of his chin before roughly turning his head back to engulf him in a kiss. It was all tongue and teeth, as Bruce immediately seized Tim’s lower lip between his teeth, biting down until he tasted blood. As Tim opened his mouth in a gasp, Bruce promptly shoved his tongue down his throat, brutally battling his own into submission. It was intense and overwhelming, yet despite his whining Bruce continued his venture, taking what he wanted without any consideration about his partner. When he finally withdrew, Tim was left panting as his lungs once again vyed desperately for air. A thin string of saliva connected them yet, and even Bruce was now beginning to look half as dishevelled as Tim, with his hair in disarray, swollen lips, and flushed cheeks. Without a word, Bruce turned his face forwards again, leaving Tim to Roman’s predatory gaze, whose eyes watched them hungrily with such intensity Tim doubted he’d allowed himself to blink since they awoke. Black mask grinned a sadistic leer when their eyes met, yet lounging upon his seat, legs spread wide - doing nothing to conceal the growing tent in his trousers.
Bruce’s breath rolled across his back, his muscled torso pressing against him until almost every inch of skin was held hostage by the larger man. He was nibbling on Tim’s ear, sharp teeth reminding him that he could, at any point, tear them off if he so wanted. Roman’s eyes lit with interest as Tim made yet another fruitless attempt to escape, his leer growing only increasingly lascivious upon hearing his cry when Bruce bit down decisively by the corner of his neck. Eliciting a groan once Bruce’s lips left his skin to reveal blood sipping through his mark, and another when Bruce used his tongue to lick it off. Never not rolling his hips, Bruce decided to punish his misbehaviour with a series of pelvis-shattering thrusts, scattering Tim’s mind until he unknowingly released a shrill cry as the tears returned to his eyes once more. He was flooded by sensation, by Bruce’s dick poking and caressing his vagina, each thrust charged with increasing force, fucking him between his folds, electrifying him with each stroke of his clitoris.
Lost to pleasure, Tim had almost forgotten that this was mere foreplay, that this was simply a taste of the main act. Until Bruce decided he was tired of mere teasing, positioning his member at Tim’s entrance. Once more, the reality of the situation hit Tim like a wave. There was no escape: an unrestrained, sex-crazed Bruce was going to fuck him in front of Roman Sionis. And he could do nothing but take it.
Tim shivered as the older men pressed the head of his swollen shaft against his hole, demanding entry regardless of consent. Tim balled his hands into fists, burrowing his nails into his palms as he prepared himself for the impending violation.
"So… tight,” Bruce grunted, pushing himself inside Tim’s previously unclaimed entrance with a brutal force, giving Tim no chance to register his girth before he bottomed out with a throaty moan. Tim tipped his head back against Bruce’s shoulder in a silent scream as sparks of electricity devoured, intensifying each time Bruce’s hips and balls slammed pervertedly against his rump; dancing enticingly alongside the licks of flame stemming from the filling pressure of the cock buried deep inside him.
Far too soon, Bruce started to pull his hips back, moving at an infuriatingly slow pace, as though he wanted Tim to memorise every vein on his dick. He could almost feel the head slip free as his slit clenched around the invader, only for Bruce to thrust inside him again, spearing him without mercy. Tying Tim’s arms in a knot behind his back, Bruce set a hard and punishing pace, rolling his hips far enough for his cock to threaten its exit, only for him to bottom out with a hard push forward. His free hand reached for his throat, wrapping itself around it to partially cut off Tim’s air until he struggled to breathe. His mouth was occupied, claiming the final inches of flesh not yet marked. Tim could hear his own moans echo against the walls, their only companion the filthy sound of skin against skin and Bruce’s occasional grunt or growl which only grew increasingly animalistic for every second.
“Oh sweet bird, you look absolutely delectable” Roman purred, coaxing Tim into opening his eyes to face him again, ”You were made for this, weren’t you? Made to take cock, made to be a whore to be used.”
“N-no,” Tim protested weakly, further undercutting himself with a moan. Quivering in Bruce’s strong grip, his every nerve seemed to be set aflame. His reply did nothing but elicit a dark chuckle from their observer.
Each time Bruce pulls out, he leaves a devastating ache of emptiness behind before quickly filling him up again with 11 inches of cock. Tim could feel his nether lips stretch tightly around their invader, clamping down around the veiny flesh on their own accord, milking his cock as though desperate to keep him inside.
“You do make for an excellent cocksleeve. Maybe I ought to keep you,” Roman opened his mouth again, mocking him with a sultry tongue, yet Tim could hardly register his exact words as the rapid beats of his heart, the sound of slick and of slapping skin surpassed all other, grasping for his final slimmer of sanity as his former mentor worked to rearrange his insides. To his great shame and embarrassment, his rough ploughing sent him to the stars with pleasure. The massive shaft burrows into him time and time again, eradicating the aching emptiness with an ecstatic sense of completion.
Bruce’s rutting grew increasingly wild alongside the frequency of his moans and mutters. Tightening his grip around Tim’s throat, he threw Tim’s head backwards, forcing eye contact without ever slowing down. ”Too much?” He murmured, and Tim could only gasp and nod in response, accidentally pushing Bruce’s knuckles into his Adam’s apple. ”Now?” Bruce smirked darkly as he rammed his hips home with even greater favour, robbing Tim of the ability to respond.
Going into the final stretch, Bruce’s hips become a near blur of erratic thrusts, ravaging his cunt as deeply as he can. His insides are a mess of precum and slick, ready to be painted white by the older man. Finally, Tim felt an incessant throbbing spreading through Bruce’s massive cock, and with a dominant roar he cut off Tim’s airways with his big hand, pressing him against him as he thrust himself as deep inside as possible. Unleashing his load, Tim felt as though a great flood was rushing into him, with thick cum pumping into him from Bruce’s seemingly inexhaustible balls.
The intense pressure combined with the rise of submission pushed Tim over the edge, leaving him a leaking mess with his mouth open in a silent scream. Bruce eases his grip around his throat, and as Tim clutches for air he pulls out, carelessly dropping Tim onto the ground before staggering backwards, sliding down the opposite wall before losing consciousness.
Tim kept gasping, for air as well as an understanding of whatever was happening around him. With big eyes, he looked over Bruce’s huddled form before turning to face Roman. Who sent him but a grin before his gaze was obscured by clouds of gas filling their cage, luring him into unconsciousness once more.