Disclaimer: Characters owned by DC Comics and borrowed without permission, just for fun.
Pairing: Batman/Mr. Terrific
Michael gasped, the wind half-knocked out of him as he was turned roughly, pressed against the pommel horse. Gloved fingers pinched and tweaked at his nipples, and the weight of the body behind him ground his bare midriff into the unforgiving leather of the horse.
"Please..." he gasped. "Punish me..."
His vision swam with failures in his life, the death of his wife. He knew, even before he approached him, he *knew* Batman would have the answer. He didn't know how he knew, but...
He hissed as a strap cinched around his bicep, locking his arm against one of the pommels. The weight leaning against him did not relent, but it shifted to repeat the same performance with his other arm, binding him tight.
"Yes..." Michael breathed, wincing at the near-pain. Not so much as he deserved. Not nearly so much.
The gloved hands were reaching down now, tugging roughly at his belt. He could feel the press of armor against his back, the smooth leather of the horse beneath his chest, the throb of his pulse against his bindings.
There was a ripping sound, and he felt his pants torn down his legs to mid-calf. Gloved fingers closed harshly on his rigid cock, and he cried out.
A slap echoed through the Cave as a hand descended on his ass. "Quiet," Batman growled.
Michael bit down hard on a yell, releasing only a whimper. His ass stung from the hard slap, but it was what he needed, what he craved...
The hand at his cock gave a pull, and he strangled a sound in his throat. He felt a boot between his feet, pushing his legs as far apart as the pants around his calves would allow. Another squeeze to his cock, and suddenly Batman was gone, leaving him tied there, alone, cold...
"Please..." he whimpered again.
Rough hands spread the cheeks of his ass and held them, letting him feel cool air across his anus.
He straightened his legs fully, pushing back.
They still only held him.
He could feel his cock swinging, hard and lonely. He thought his fingers might be going numb. He rubbed his chest against the pommel horse with a little moan, desperate for touch. Then he froze.
Something chill but warming rapidly, a blunt pressure...
He tensed, almost panicked. Was he ready? God, he wanted... but...
Abruptly, the hands on his ass pulled away, and the pressure at his backside was gone as well. He waved his hips, trying to coax them back. And then... a finger, lube slick, gently sliding between his ass cheeks. Sliding slowly, inexorably forward, not pausing when it met resistance, slipping past a tight ring of muscle, pressing deeper, deeper...
Michael bit his lip, swallowing little cries. He felt the finger hook, curling down, and he gasped as his prostate seemed suddenly to burn and warm him with an internal fire. He felt the finger withdrawing and tried to push back to claim it, but it was gone, gone, gone...
And BACK, with a companion, thrust fiercely into him, making him moan and ache with greater need. "Please..." he whispered again.
The fingers were scissoring him, opening him...
A hand was back on one ass cheek, and after another minute, the fingers pulled back to claim the other cheek. Once again his cheeks were spread, once again that slick blunt pressure found his hole. He felt his ass quivering, his cock hopping, as the heat of a now bare chest lowered over his back.
A set of teeth found the lobe of his ear and bit down. He choked down a cry, and Batman's voice hissed icily in his ear. "You want to be punished."
Michael nodded, tears of need coming to his eyes.
There was a tiny thrust behind him, poking the head of Batman's cock a little way into Michael's ass. "I can't hear you."
Michael stifled a scream. "Yes," he begged, "please, YE-E-SSSSSSSS."
With a sudden thrust, all of Batman's cock was buried in him, and then the fucking started in earnest, hard and rough and rubbing Michael's stomach in chafing moves against the pommel horse.
Michael closed his eyes and moaned as Batman's cock rammed into him, each back thrust catching at his prostate. He could feel every inch burning inside of him, the bruising pressure of Batman's hands at his hips, the rawness of his chest and stomach. There was a bite at his shoulder, hard, painful - what he wanted. He could feel his balls tightening.
Suddenly the body thrusting into him went rigid, and a warmth began to spread through his ass. Michael groaned and twisted. Almost there. Almost...
Batman's hand came around and wrapped around his shaft, giving one hard stroke.
"AHH!" Michael cried, his cock spurting, splattering cum against the side of the pommel horse, his ass twitched and spasming around the softening cock inside him. His vision began to swim and he gasped once more before falling limp over the pommel horse.
He came to, aching and shaky, wrapped in a soft blanket on a wide dojo mat. He could feel the ligature burns on his biceps, the rawness of his ass and his belly. He also could tell he was clean.
His clothes lay folded on the mat near him, and when he raised his head, he could see Batman by the pommel horse, fully clothed and cleaning the leather.
Michael dropped his head with a faint groan, too tired to keep watching. Batman must have sensed the motion, for a moment later, his boots were firmly in Michael's view, only to be replaced by Batman's body as he sat beside the man he had ravaged. The gloved hands were almost unbearably gentle as they stroked over Michael's hair. "Thank you," he said.
Michael nodded. "Thank you," he replied hoarsely. "You are... I needed..."
"I know," Batman said hollowly, and Michael knew that he did. His hand continued to stroke Michael's hair as he said again, "I know."