Work Text:
The Mercy Hotel was perhaps San Francisco's worst kept secret. It was a place well known for its discreteness, a haven for out of town businessmen needing to meet with lovers or to have a bed to bring a one night stand back to. Marcus was pretty sure they averaged three lovers living full time in the hotel at any one time and at least twelve business men had permanent rooms there for whatever purposes they might have.
Of course, for the men able to afford it, there was the deluxe package: a penthouse room, a set of three porters willing to assist sexual needs in anyway, even exclusive access to a well equipped sex dungeon in the basement. All the rooms on the top floor came with this package and at least once a week Marcus, one of the deluxe porters, was summoned to one of the rooms for a quick and rough fuck.
But there was only one man who maintained a deluxe room full time and that was Slade Wilson. It made little sense to Marcus since he never demanded a porter come to his room to satisfy him or used the basement dungeon. But then he had seen the man's lover and figured Mr Wilson had no need for such things. He needed a room with a view so he could survey the city after milking himself in the ass of the most beautiful man Marcus had ever seen.
But that day Slade had contacted the front desk with a special request. Marcus waited by the desk, watching people come and go from the lobby. He saw Dick Grayson pass through, heading straight toward the elevator and gestured for Gemma to take his place at the desk, moving after the young man. He stepped into the elevator just a moment after Dick, the young man reaching for the buttons.
"Which floor?" Dick asked politely.
Before Marcus could answer, another man stepped into the lift. He was tall and broad shouldered with a room below the top floor but an attitude of someone with the right to demand whatever he wanted. He had offered to pay one of the girls on the desk a hundred dollars to sleep with him. None of the porters slept with anyone for less than a thousand. Marcus battled to think of his name but couldn't. He only learnt the names of the deluxe clients and any of their regular lovers.
The man inserted himself between Dick and the buttons, the younger man forced to flinch away to avoid his hand touching the man's stomach.
"You visiting or got a room?" the man asked, appraising Dick hungrily.
"Got a room."
"Oh really. How about we play a game? Highest floor gets to fuck the other."
Marcus arched an eyebrow. In theory, it wad a good gamble. There was only one floor above whete the man was staying.
"I don't want to fuck you," Dick replied simply but firmly.
"You won't have to," the man smirked.
He pressed the button for his floor, stepping aside to let Dick see the glowing button. If he expected horror to fall onto the young man's face, he didn't get it. Dick merely pressed the button for the top floor and settled back against the wall with a confident stance. The man gaped for a moment and then turned away.
"You're Wilson's fucktoy. I should have recognised you."
"I'll tell him you said hello," Dick replied.
That made the man frown.
"I was merely enquiring. No need to involve him."
The ride was silent for the rest of the way, Marcus not daring to speak while there was company. Dick seemed to acknowledge his victory over the man in a quiet, confident way. Domination suited him just as much as submission, it seemed.
When the man stepped out and the doors slid shut to continue on the journey, Marcus turned to Dick.
"Mr Grayson?" he said.
Dick turned to him, blinking. Porters were only meant to talk to the submissive partner if they thought they might be in some sort of trouble.
"Yes," Dick said.
"Mr Wilson has asked me to assist you in getting ready for today's session. Typically we send a same sex porter to assist in such matters but I can have a female one sent if you would feel more comfortable."
Dick studied him for a moment. Then he shrugged.
"You'll be fine," he said. "Can you tell me what Slade has planned?"
"I am not permitted to tell you that, Mr Grayson."
Marcus had been in that particular suite many times. All deluxe suites had to be cleaned by deluxe porters in case they walked in on something sexual taking place. A few guests refused cleaning while the room was occupied while others took thrill from leaving their sub in a humiliating state for the porters to find. More than once Marcus had been cleaning with a human pet following him around the place. Mr Wilson didn't like the room being cleaned when he was present but a few times Marcus had gone in to restock the coffee machine and heard the sounds of Mr Grayson using the shower. He had been told the young man would have no problem with it. Apparently he had grown up with a butler.
Marcus shut the door behind Mr Grayson and gestured him toward the dining table in the suit. There was a large hard plastic case on the table, tied closed with a blue ribbon.
Marcus approached the box and clinically undid the ribbon before unlatching the case. He didn't open it though, told to pass on a message before he did so.
"Mr Wilson wanted me to tell you that this number was acquired from the al Ghul Fashion House. All their submissives are wearing some variation of it."
Mr Grayson recognised the name even if Marcus didn't. Marcus imagined it was some exclusive rich person sex brand, the sort that did custom pieces and held mysterious drug fueled sex parties.
"One of their late higher ups had this particular piece commissioned shortly before his death," Marcus continued, remembering the information that Mr Wilson had sent through and told him to memorise. "It was designed for a pet he was never able to ensnare, the son of a detective. No wait, sorry. The Detective."
Marcus studied Dick, hoping that the young man would be forgiving enough not to tell Mr Wilson about the slip up. Dick had paled, eyes blown slightly wide.
"Did he give a name for this higher up?"
"I am afraid not, Mr Grayson. He only told me what I have told you. And that there are others in the same collection if you take to this one well."
"By the al Ghul's or by this higher up?"
"By the higher up," Marcus confirmed. "Mr Wilson implied he had quite an obsession with this detective's son, spent a great deal of money preparing to tame him."
Dick nodded, slow and precise. Marcus swung open the chest's lid. Inside was an intricate outfit of chains and shining back metal plates. Dick's breath hitched at the sight of it.
And yet resting on the top was a blue silk blindfold, similar to the ribbon that had been on the outside of the box.
"Mr Wilson requested you be blindfolded while you were dressed."
"I... Do it," Dick said.
Marcus approached. He was only a little taller than Dick and just a slender (he imagined it was the sort of thing their clients typically liked) but he was skinnier than the young man, not as much muscle mass. It Dick hadn't wanted to wear the blindfold or the costume, he could resist. But Marcus also knew that Dick was an obedient sub. Honestly, if Slade ever got bored of him (and Marcus doubted he ever would) Dick would have a queue of suitors willing to move heaven and earth to make him their new pet. Marcus and his boyfriend would certainly be willing to make room for the acrobat in their bed.
The blindfold secured, Marcus began to slowly remove Dick’s clothes. The young man was cooperative, shifting to make it easier for Marcus to remove each article. When Marcus reached for Dick’s underwear, the acrobat guided his hand away and removed them himself.
"There is something I will need to insert inside you. Mr Wilson said you would be able to take it without lube but hotel policy states I must get your explicit permission to follow an instruction like that."
He could see the young man pausing, clearly considering it.
"If Sir says I can take it, I can," Dick said. "But if it makes you feel better, let me feel it and I can give you a definite answer."
Dick held out a hand and Marcus lifted the costume, careful not to tangle the jangling chains and smooth sheets of metal plating. He reached for the belt and the extension that hung down from it, offering the long straight part out to Dick. His fingers ghosted over it with a skill that only came from experience. When he lingered onto splits in the metal, he faltered.
"Does it open?"
"After insertion, yes. And I am able to fully control by how much."
"I can manage it dry," Dick said with confidence.
Marcus thanked him and held the costume down near the ground, guiding Dick to step through the belt. Once the young man was secured, Marcus lifted the belt, metal knocking against Dick, until the belt settled loosely on Dick’s hips. Turning away, Marcus reached into the bottom of the case where a small metal key rested. It was simple, merely a shallow flat piece of metal. Too dramatic a lock would have forced the metal to be too pronounced against the young man's tanned skin, taking away the seductiveness of the costume.
Marcus got the feeling that the locks were not meant to be unpickable but from what Mr Wilson had told him about the costume they didn't exactly need to be.
He slotted the key into a small lock on the belt and turned it, immediately the metal of the belt tightened itself, sitting firmly against Dick’s hips.
"Whoa. This is new."
"Is it too tight?" Marcus frowned. "No, that's good. I just... I've seen submissives from the house of al Ghul. This isn't what I remember."
"What do you remember?" Marcus asked.
Hanging from the belt were two extensions. One was the insertion Dick had examined only moments before. The other was a cock cage. Marcus guided this slowly into place.
"Golden chains. Sheer fabrics. Lots of wine and spices. But then all of the ones I met where willing offerings. Sons and daughters of allies. Not captured warriors."
Marcus suddenly got the feeling Mr Wilson had lied to him about the house of al Ghul being fashion designers.
"And this detective's son is a warrior?" Marcus asked.
He used the metal key to tighten the cock cage around Dick’s cock. The young man choked down a groan and Marcus circled around to guide the insertion in.
"I think he likes to think of himself as a protector. A knight, maybe. But the al Ghuls would think he-"
His words were cut off by a moan as the insertion slid into his ass. It moved easily, narrow enough for Dick to take it without stretch. Marcus imagined the young man was reacting more to the temperature than the toy itself.
"Sorry, I..."
"I've fucked submissives while their masters have watched," Marcus said. "Make whatever noises you need."
"Are you going to widen it now?"
"No. I figured that could be for the end. It's locked it place so it won't come out, though."
Dick said nothing but Marcus could sense it was an agreement.
"I'm going to do the upper half now," Marcus said.
He felt that was best, separating out the chains the best he could to ensure he didn't accidentally secure a wrist cuff to the acrobat's ankle. The costume, as far as Marcus could tell, was meant to wrap around the body and so he started with the metal collar, locking it around Dick’s throat. It pulled two metal shoulder plates into place too, and left a trail of metal plates and chains going down each arm. A set of blue chains hung from one shoulder plate, arching out into a spread of intricate metal before coming together in a small metal disk. Marcus slid the disk under the opposite shoulder plate, feeling it click into place. Then he locked it with the key. It left the blue chains hanging across the young man's chest but they were not fully designed to hang freely. One chain had two nipple clamps attached and Marcus carefully reached through the cold chains to flick Dick’s half hard nipples into position before clamping them.
Then he turned to the arms. There was cuffs around each wrist to be secured and chains of metal loose every of often. They were attached to metal plates that sat on the outside of Dick's arms. It was a mockery of armour, barely protecting anything and yet making Marcus think Dick was right about the al Ghuls viewing the intended wearer as some form of warrior.
Marcus locked each of the chains into place, ensuring that the metal plating was pulled tightly against Dick’s skin on both arms.
And then he did a similar thing to the legs, looping the metal chains to secure black metal plates to the outside.
"That's the costume on," Marcus said, stepping back to admire his work.
"Can I see?"
"I am afraid I am not done yet.”
He placed a hand on the young man’s shoulder, resting it on the thick, sturdy plates of metal secured then. Then he guided Dick toward the bedroom. Marcus guided Dick to the far end of the bed, forcing him down onto his knees, spreading them apart so that the young man’s caged cock was on full display.
“According to Mr Wilson,” Marcus said, beginning to turn the key into various metal locks across the costume, “this detective’s son is an acrobat, perhaps one even more flexible than you. And while this costume was meant to humiliate and enslave him, it was also meant to control. What I’m doing now is locking the metal plating into place, ensuring you cannot move.”
“What?” Dick breathed.
“I’ve already done your arms,” Marcus informed him.
He watched as Dick’s arm muscles flexed and twitched, trying to force movement. But pieces of solid metal had slid into the various joints, leaving the young man’s arms frozen at his sides. Marcus locked every lock in time until the young man was trapped within his kneeling position as surely as if he had been encased in concrete.
“One final touch,” he said. “Give me a moment.”
Marcus left the room, sure that there was simply no way Dick was going to be able to escape. When he returned, it was with a gag. It was similar to the costume in a way, a large metal plate forming a panel, the edges padded, while a small metal band rose up to rest on the young man’s nose. From this band hung an intricate weave of blue chains, forming a face veil. As Marcus secured the gag, the face veil hung to just level with Dick’s Adam’s Apple, clearly designed for the collar to be visible.
“The al Ghul’s have taste,” Marcus remarked quietly. “I’ll send a message to Mr Wilson, telling him you are ready for him.”
He went to go and then stopped.
“Oh, I almost forgot.”
He moved back into the room, using the collar to tug Dick forward across the soft carpet. At work, Marcus spent most of his time as a sub. While he was sure that there were plenty of rich men who did like being dominated, the Mercy Hotel seemed to cater for the men who liked to be the one doing the dominating and so Marcus had to be an obedient sub for most of the guests. But with Dick so beautifully restrained and seemingly having little problem with Marcus’ presence, he couldn’t resist being a little rough. He reached back behind the young man, inserting the key into a small lock just where the metal began to dip between Dick’s soft ass cheeks. Then he turned it. Immediately Dick gave a squeak as he remembered the toy in his ass served as something of a speculum. It opened up slowly, widening with Marcus’ every lazy turn of the key.
“Mr Wilson told me to stop if you start to hum twinkle twinkle,” Marcus said. “But that I should stretch you out as much as you can take otherwise. It’s how this was intended to be used, after all.”
Although Dick didn’t start humming, Marcus felt the straining against the toy increase. He pulled back.
“That’s as far as I am comfortable going since I’m going to be leaving the suite now,” he said. “Is that okay for you?”
Dick jerked his head but the collar didn’t allow him enough movement to make his answer clear.
“One hum for no, two for yes,” Marcus told him.
Dick hummed twice. Marcus smiled, patting his cheek.
“Whatever Mr Wilson did to deserve you, he’s a lucky man.”
He pressed the key into its place in the gag. Marcus briefly wondered about the man who had designed such bondage and thought it was a wonderful touch to have the young man know the key was so close and yet utterly beyond his reach.
And then Marcus removed the blindfold. He decided to leave Dick to take in his new outfit in peace, moving to the door and shutting it.
The next day, Marcus was summoned to Mr Wilson’s hotel room. He shivered, wondering if he had done something wrong and was about to be scolded by the man. Slade Wilson was not known for his patience. He had certainly never been into tipping. Still, Marcus pulled on a brave face as he knocked on the door.
He was 80% sure that he didn’t break the costume in any way and completely sure that he put it on the young man correctly.
Slade opened the door a few moments after Marcus had knocked. There was a leash in his hand, connected to the end of Dick’s collar. He was still dressed in the costume although Marcus could see drying cum leaking out from between the young man’s legs. His eyes were down and averted like he was a long broken slave.
“You did a good job,” Mr Wilson said.
He pushed a handful of cash into Marcus’ hand. Marcus felt his jaw drop, aware that Mr Wilson never, ever tipped.
“Don’t go around mentioning the House of al Ghul to anyone,” Mr Wilson warned. “They’ll probably kill you for sullying their name and… Well… I think they’d be very interested to know who ended up wearing this particular outfit.”