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glimpses into the (k)night

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Clark was always a sight for sore eyes, a breath of fresh air after a long few days of dealing with the filth that came with maintaining his underground empire. It had been an unexpected godsend that the nosy reporter snooping around the fringes of his territory – and getting surprisingly close to digging up some actual secrets – was precisely Bruce’s type (brunet, intelligent, and with a hidden backbone made of steel) and had a deviant, submissive streak just waiting to be discovered.

Bruce had never been more delighted that he’d been the one to unearth that hidden side of his reporter, to watch how Clark bloomed in the face of his attentions, to be the one who initiated Clark into the darker aspects of his sexuality. To be the one to mold Clark into the perfect submissive in all the ways that Bruce liked.

Clark was especially appealing right now as he squirmed and panted on the chair he was bound to. Miles of glorious unmarred skin was displayed for Bruce to admire, and with the way Clark was tied up, arms behind the back of the chair and legs hooked and secured behind the armrests, he had an unimpeded view of all of Clark’s assets. Most striking to the eye, perhaps, was his boy’s flushed and erect cock, swollen with unfulfilled need and leaking seemingly unending streams of pre-come. Clark hadn’t been allowed to come yet tonight, and in fact, had obediently not touched himself in the week leading up to this. Bruce was certain that just the slightest direct contact to that weeping cock would set Clark off and send him tumbling over into orgasm. But no, this wasn’t the plan that Bruce had in mind for his delightful little reporter tonight.

He continued his languid perusal of his enticingly posed boy. Further south of that blushing cock was Clark’s slutty asshole. Bruce had already made good, thorough use of it earlier and it was currently plugged up tight to keep his boy full of Bruce’s semen – just the way his horny boy liked it. It was, unquestioningly, still a beautifully provocative sight to behold: rim stretched wide around the anal plug bearing Bruce’s crest – an unmistakable sign of ownership –, skin rubbed a deep pink from the vigorous pounding Bruce had given it, and slightly glistening from a filthy mixture of lube and Bruce’s spend. Clark’s hole was still pulsing faintly around the plug as if seeking more stimulation, and if his boy had just the slightest bit of leverage in the position he was tied in, Bruce was certain that his insatiable, impatient boy would be trying to grind down on the plug stuffing him full, hoping to stimulate his prostate and find release that way. As delightful as that image would undoubtedly be, to see Clark work his hips with focused, lustful determination in an attempt to sate his hungry body’s needs, it also wasn’t what Bruce had in mind for his desperate little slut.

No, for tonight, he’d set his sights higher. With Clark’s arms tied back, it curved his torso in a slight arch, perfectly thrusting his pectorals forward and presenting his nipples. They were left unprotected, in prime position for Bruce to torment, and were still faintly pink from having been pinched and teased when Bruce had been fucking Clark before. He could still remember the feel of Clark clenching around his cock when Bruce had tugged on one of his nipples, the wanton cry of passion that burst out of Clark’s needy mouth. Bruce had already known that Clark had sensitive tits, and even before tonight, had always relished in teasing those buds to redness and listening to Clark’s cries of pain-tinged pleasure.

Tonight, he was going to take things a step further. Tonight, Clark would only find his release if he could come from having his nipples played with. With how sensitive he normally was, Bruce was certain that Clark could do it. It was just a matter of time and patience, and they had all night to work on it.

Bruce leaned against the back of Clark’s chair, a picture of collected elegance in his impeccably tailored suit, which was in stark contrast to Clark’s lewd nudity. Clark was still gasping slightly, slowly coming down from his high even though he hadn’t been able to achieve climax. His arousal was still ardent and strong, but he had stepped back from the very edge with the lack of further touches to his overheated skin. Bruce trailed a hand possessively down the side of Clark’s face, feeling minute shivers start up in their wake, until he could grip his boy’s chin.

Tilting Clark’s face up to his desired angle, he murmured in his boy’s ear, “Look up, boy. Look at yourself in the mirror.”

He watched their reflections in the full-length mirror that had been strategically positioned in front of Clark. At his command, Clark lifted his gaze, eyes wide and pupils dilated. Their eyes locked briefly in the mirror, and then Clark’s eyes drifted away to follow Bruce’s order. Bruce knew his boy was taking in the licentious exhibit of his own body reflected in the mirror, seeing himself bound and exposed with no way to hide his heavy arousal, as Clark’s cheeks flushed red and his legs instinctively tried to close but couldn’t as they were tied securely to the armrests.

“Sir!” Clark whined, embarrassed, but unable to look away as Bruce’s fingers kept his face firmly facing the mirror.

It still baffled Bruce a little, how his boy could still be so easily embarrassed, but it was undeniably part of Clark’s charm as well. Bruce greatly relished in pushing Clark past his boundaries and that initial stage of embarrassment until his shy little boy turned into a hedonistic slut who would beg loudly and shamelessly for any manner of filthy, degrading things to be done to him just so he could achieve climax. After all, Clark had a humiliation kink a mile wide and it was just good manners on Bruce’s part to make sure that it was properly seen to.

“Uh, uh. Keep your eyes on the mirror,” he chided softly but firmly. “There’s nothing to be shy about. I’m just showing you who you really are: a shameless, horny slut that should always be kept naked and ready for use.”

He let go of Clark’s chin and his obedient boy flushed a becoming shade of pink at his crass words, but kept his baby blues on their image in the mirror. There was nothing to deny, because Clark knew that he had spoken the bone-deep truth. That Clark was indeed a horny cockslut, that it was Clark’s duty to be prepared to serve Bruce whenever it was demanded, and that Clark would undoubtedly express utmost gratitude for each and every opportunity that his holes had to service Bruce’s cock. But every once in a while, Clark needed to be reminded of his place, and today, Bruce was feeling charitable enough to do it civilly.

“Tonight, you’re going to witness just how slutty your body truly is, and you’ll never forget it.”

“Yes, sir.”

Bruce traced both hands down either side of Clark’s neck, framing the collar curled snugly around his boy’s throat, the insignia on it a slightly smaller twin to the one nestled in his boy’s hole. There was definitely no mistaking who Clark belonged to with the matching symbols visible, and Clark himself clearly enjoyed the image they made as his cock gave a visible twitch despite no other stimulation. Pleased with his little slut’s eager, unabashed response, Bruce slid his hands down further until his fingers were framing Clark’s firm pecs. He paused for a second, heard the tiny hitch in his boy’s breathing, before gripping the mounds of flesh firmly but carefully avoiding the twin peaks as he kneaded them rhythmically.

Nnghn… sir…” Clark whimpered, eyelids falling to half-mast as a gentle pleasure suffused him.

Bruce watched in the mirror as his lustful boy arched his back further, pushing his chest into Bruce’s hands eagerly, watched as even more fluid blurted out of his boy’s wet and shiny cockhead with each squeeze. His slutty boy did so love having Bruce’s hands on his tits. Clark was going to love it even more once Bruce finally got to the twin buds that he was deliberately neglecting.

“Such a horny thing you are, boy. Did you see your cock? You wet yourself even more just from me groping your tits.”

He felt Clark shudder, voice breathy as he replied, “Yes… But it… but it feels so good, sir… So good…

“What feels good, boy?”

“Your hands…”

“My hands?”

“Your hands on… on…”

A hot wave of red washed over Clark’s face and down his chest as his boy struggled to put into words just what he was enjoying. But Bruce knew he would be able to do it. He squeezed those plump, flushed tits in his hands and watched as Clark’s face slackened in pleasure as he moaned, mouth forming an obscene “O” that was just begging to be stuffed with a hard cock.

Ohhh… my t-tits… Your hands on my t-tits… feels… so good… Oooh…

“Good slut. That wasn’t so hard to say, was it?”

He continued to massage Clark’s tits, inching slowly closer to those tantalizing nipples with every motion. Arousal had tightened them, making them stiff and peaked, just waiting for Bruce to torment them. Clark moaned and whimpered with each squeeze of Bruce’s fingers, and though his eyes were still on the mirror as instructed, they were glazed over, and Bruce was certain he would not see the next part coming.

Without any warning, he gripped both of Clark’s nipples simultaneously between his fingers and gave them both a sharp pinch. Clark jerked harshly against his restraints, cock letting loose a fresh stream of pre-come as his ass clenched down tightly around the plug. His loud, surprised cry was music to Bruce’s ears. Bruce waited for Clark’s body to relax back against the chair, and then he was back at tormenting Clark’s unprotected nipples. He flicked at the two raised buds as if playing an instrument, sometimes in sync, sometimes not, occasionally stopping to pinch or tug at one or both of them, mixing things up so that Clark could never predict what was going to happen next. Clark sang beautifully beneath his fingers at every touch, moans and whines and whimpers blending into an obscene melody that left no doubt that it was a pleasurable torment that his slutty boy was enduring.

Hnngh! Too… OH! Too m-much… sir… p-please… stooohhhhh…!

Clark was beginning to protest the relentless, merciless treatment to his nipples, but his greedy body did not lie. His back was arched as far as it could go in his restraints, pushing his tits up towards Bruce’s wicked hands. Clark wanted more, much, much more than his words would lead one to believe.

“Liar. Look at how you’re shoving your titties towards me, hmm?”

He watched as Clark blearily blinked open eyes that had fluttered close at some point. He knew Clark noticed the picture he was presenting when his boy muttered a soft, embarrassed ‘no’, but could not otherwise deny how he was still rocking his chest towards Bruce’s fingers, wordlessly seeking out more stimulus to his sensitive buds.

“You know I don’t like liars, boy,” he said, lowering his voice into a dangerous growl and punctuating his words with a vicious twist to both of Clark’s vulnerable nipples.

Clark cried out, this time in pain, and for the first time since he started toying with his boy’s nipples, tried to turn away from Bruce. But Bruce was unyielding. He held Clark’s nipples firmly, maintaining the same harsh pressure and let Clark’s fruitless struggles further intensify the ache as punishment. He only released the sore nubs when Clark finally settled down, eyes wet with unshed tears, biting his lower lip to hold back any more sobs.

Bruce studied his naughty boy in the mirror. Clark’s titties were an angry red, standing out slightly swollen against his boy’s chest, and Bruce imagined that they must be throbbing with residual pain. But he knew his boy enjoyed some amount of pain, and it was further reaffirmed by how Clark’s erection hadn’t faded in the least. Clark’s neglected cock was positively gleaming with the amount of pre-come spread across its surface, and so was his perineum from the amount that had overflowed to drip down towards his ass. Yes, his horny little boy was indeed a masochist, and loved a little pain to go with his pleasure. Bruce was sure that by the end of tonight’s session, Clark would absolutely crave having his titties abused in the future.

“I’m sorry, sir…” Clark eventually whispered once he had caught his breath.

It pleased Bruce that his boy was well-trained enough to know when he’d erred and to apologize unprompted. But it wasn’t enough.

“Just an apology isn’t sufficient,” he said, voice stern.

“I’m sorry,” Clark repeated, but then added, “Please let me make it up to you, sir. I’ll do anything!”

Ah, those were dangerous words. But Bruce had expected them from his boy, always so eager to earn his forgiveness for any slight misdemeanors and so very desperate to please him.

“I’ll hold you to those words, slut.” The words were both a promise and a threat, and Bruce intended to make good on them.

Then he left his boy to stew in his shame and guilt as he went to gather some equipment. There wasn’t much that he truly needed, but Bruce took his time anyway. Clark would be begging for his punishment by the time he was back even if he didn’t know that it would entail. When he finally felt that he had left his boy alone long enough, Bruce made his way back to where Clark was bound. He deposited the toys he’d picked up on a side table, out of view from Clark’s line of sight even with the mirror. He was aware that his boy knew better than to peek, but he did not want the slightest chance of Clark finding out what he’d had in store before the time was ripe.

“I’m so, so sorry, sir.”

Clark met his eyes in the mirror, and if Bruce weren’t a hardened criminal, he would’ve wavered at the pleading, contrite look on Clark’s face. But no, Bruce wasn’t letting his boy off so easily, and if a part of it was driven solely by his own dark desires to see Clark fall apart from overstimulation to his slutty titties, then so be it.

“Please punish me as you see fit, sir.”

“Oh, I fully intend to,” Bruce replied. “Tell me, slut, did you touch your cock the past week?”

“No sir, I didn’t. You told me not to.”

“What about your fuckhole?”

“No, sir.”

“And your tits?”

Clark flushed once again, but shook his head. “No, sir… I… I don’t usually…”

“Good. But you must be really horny now, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir… I’m so horny… I want to come so bad…”

“I’ll let you come,” Bruce murmured and then let a wicked smirk curl his lips. “But only if you can come from only having your lusty titties touched.”

He watched Clark’s eyes widened and then darken as a full-body shiver ran through his slutty boy. Yes, Clark liked that idea – absolutely loved it, if Bruce was reading him right – even if it meant that there was a possibility that he would end the night unfulfilled. But that was all part of the thrill for a masochistic slut like his Clark.

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“Good slut.”

Then Bruce reached out for the first toy and held them out for Clark to see. Two flat clamps dangled from a thin silver chain connecting them. He had picked something simple this time, wanting to let Clark feel the constant pressure of having his nipples clamped instead of the harsher bite that would be present with teethed ones. Bruce made sure to let Clark have a good eyeful of the clamps before letting them glide teasingly up and down the centre of chest, right between his tits. Clark swallowed audibly and then licked his lips, all the while staring fixatedly at the toy, seemingly unaware of how thirsty for the nipple clamps he looked. But Bruce caught it all, and he was eager to see what would happen when his thirsty slut finally had a taste of the toy.

“Do you know what these are?”

“Nipple clamps, sir.”

“Very good,” he praised. “And what do you think I should do with them?”

Clark bit his lower lip, ducking his head slightly but he still thrust his tits out as he spoke, “Please use them on me, sir. On… on my tits.”

With that earnest plea, Bruce smirked and began to tease Clark’s areola by circling the clamps around the sensitive flesh, relishing in every aborted jerk and hitched breath from his boy. He knew Clark was trying to brace himself for when the clamps would bite down on his sensitive nubs, but he wasn’t going to make it easy for his boy. He used the clamps to flick those reddened peaks, almost strumming them and enjoyed the lustful melody that streamed unbidden from Clark’s lips. Clark was thoroughly caught up in sensation, unaware of anything but the touches to his titties, and it was the perfect time to finally make proper use of the clamps.

As soon as the clamps closed down fully on Clark’s nipples, Bruce was treated to a marvelously lascivious sight. Clark’s entire body tensed, his lips parted around an indecently loud moan, and then he began to writhe madly in his bonds. Clark’s hips made aborted jerking thrusts into the air, making his flushed cock slap wetly against his abdomen, leaving streaks of clear pre-come on taut skin. His hole was squeezing around the plug rhythmically once again, and Bruce imagined that it would feel glorious around his cock – he would need to do this sometime when he had Clark snug around him once more. Clark’s torso shook as if trying to escape the inexorable, unrelenting pressure on his nipples, making the chain connecting the clamps sway and glint in the light, drawing attention to his sore, clamped buds. His poor, overwhelmed boy couldn’t seem to control his movements, even as they were useless in trying to alleviate the hard press of cold unfeeling metal against his burning, sensitive skin. He had never looked more delectable, more suited for Bruce to fuck into a mindless, wet, come-covered mess than at this very moment.

“…sir… sir… ohhhh… sir…! Unnghh… sir…

Clark was now babbling incoherently between unrestrained, ribald moans, calling out for his master as if in a trance. Bruce was pleased at how out of it Clark was from this one simple act, how having his titties clamped reduced his boy into nothing but a lust-addled wreck whose only cognizant thought was of his master and nothing else. He had indeed trained his horny little slut well.

“Mmm… look at you, moaning like a desperate whore just because you got your titties clamped… Such a dirty slut, aren’t you?”

“Ohhh yes… yesssirr…

“What are you, boy?”

“A slut… nnngh… a dirty slut… a desperate whore… ooohhh…

“Good whore.”

Then Bruce picked up the delicate chain, and tugged. Clark wailed, so loudly that if they weren’t hidden away in his underground playroom, Bruce was certain that an entire neighborhood would know that Clark was beside himself with sexual pleasure. Pre-come splattered everywhere, and it was almost impressive that his boy hadn’t actually orgasmed for real. But the longer his little slut lasted, the more fun it would be for Bruce. He alternated between tugging the chain right at its center and pulling on one end harder than the other, playing with the tension in the chain and how it would translate to different intensities of pain for Clark’s sensitive nipples. Clark reacted wonderfully to every stimulus, and begged for mercy just as prettily. But Bruce was not merciful, and Clark had said he would do anything to apologise, and this was nowhere near enough for Bruce. Not by a long shot.

“You like a little pain, don’t you, boy? You always moan so prettily and come buckets when I use you hard.”

“I… ohh… I… yes…!” Clark whimpered in agreement despite his face flushing red with humiliation at his behavior.

“Yes, and you love it when I give you a good spanking, don’t you? You go absolutely nuts when I fuck your burning hole raw after a good paddling to your ass.”

Clark gave a noticeable full-body shiver, which was an answer on its own. But still, his submissive slut responded with his words as he had been taught, “…yes sir… Love it, sir.”

“Horny slut. The clamps hurt, don’t they? But look at your shameful cock. You’ve never been harder in your pathetic little life, hmm?”

Clark looked like a debauched nymph in the mirror with the silver nipple clamps embellishing his chest, and his straining, engorged cock that looked ready to burst at any moment. His horny slut was looking at his own reflection, lips parted and eyes wide, as if disbelieving that he was truly looking at himself. And yet, Clark couldn’t look away, could only stare at himself with dilated pupils that belied his insatiable lust and arousal.

Bruce reached for the clamps again, and smirked when his boy thrust his chest out, offering up his eager titties to be teased again. He paused just before his fingers touched the thin, silver chain and waited, curious to see what his boy would do. When Clark realized that Bruce was waiting for him, he bit his lip in indecision. His boy knew what Bruce expected from him. But it seemed that he hadn’t yet fully pushed aside his decorum and was feeling embarrassed at having to voice out his dirty, degenerate desires. But finally, Clark’s needs won out over insignificant things like propriety, as Bruce knew it would.

“Please sir, please… a-abuse my titties.”

“You want your little titties to hurt, boy?”

“Yes, sir… please…”

“And why do you want that, hmm?” Bruce asked, affecting nonchalance.

“B-because… because I…”

“Because you’re a painslut. Is that it?”

“I… Y-yes, sir. Please…”

“Say it,” he growled, wanting to hear Clark debase himself aloud. “What are you?”

“I… I’m… a painslut, sir! A dirty painslut! Please, sir… please make my titties hurt! Please!

Ah, his boy was gorgeous when he finally broke and let his true self free. That shameless, wanton behavior paired with his good-little-boy-next-door looks was utterly irresistible, and Clark begged exceptionally beautifully the more desperate he was to be degraded.

With a satisfied smile, Bruce turned his boy’s dirty desires into fruition. He levered open the clamp on Clark’s left nipple, listening to his boy’s hiss of relief and then let it snap back over the throbbing, oversensitive nub in the next second. Clark jolted, mouth falling open in a soundless scream, and Bruce repeated the very same actions on his boy’s right nipple before Clark could recover. The second spike of pain inflicted on his remorselessly abused nipples in quick succession made Clark keen, loud and high, as his body writhed in helpless reaction to the conflicting signals of pain and pleasure being transmitted through his nerves.

“Ohhh god… Sirrrr!! Oooooh!” Clark whined deliriously. “…thank y-yuunghh…! Thank… you…! Ahh!”

“Such a good, polite little painslut, you are.” Indeed, his slut had remembered Bruce’s lessons well, and good, polite behavior was to be rewarded.

He released the clamps, and without giving time for his slut to breathe, snapped them both shut simultaneously and applied further pressure onto the clamped nubs with his fingers. Clark cried out as pain-infused pleasure overtook his senses and then continued to babble his boundless thanks for the abuse to his tits that he had asked for, which was a heavenly aria to Bruce’s ears. Clark’s swollen, purple-tipped cock let loose several heavy gushes of pre-come, forming a small pool of it in the dips of Clark’s abs. So much pent up come in his boy, it would be a glorious sight to behold when he finally ejaculated. But not yet. Bruce hadn’t had enough fun yet. He gave the chain one last sharp tug, waited for Clark to come down from that last stimulus before giving his boy the next order.

“Open your mouth.”

Clark’s mouth immediately fell open, and Bruce couldn’t resist sliding four fingers straight into that waiting orifice. He leisurely fingerfucked his submissive little boy’s mouth, feeling the enthusiastic moan that vibrated out of Clark’s throat at his actions. He spread his fingers out to see his boy’s spit-slicked lips part obscenely wide around the intrusion and fucked that lewdly stretched mouth wide that way. Clark’s eyes were glazed over in rapture and Bruce continued pumping his horny slut’s mouth for a few more moments, driving in deep to tease into his boy’s slutty throat before finally pulling out and wiping his fingers dry on Clark’s cheeks. His boy whimpered softly at the casually degrading action, but dutifully kept his mouth open as he hadn’t been told he could do otherwise. Bruce smiled approvingly as he brought the chain up, pulling it tight so that he could lay it across Clark’s lower jaw. He heard Clark’s gasp as the clamps pulled his nipples up and away from his chest at a harsh angle, but his boy still kept his mouth dutifully open, even as his eyes began to water.

“Hold it there. Unless I give you permission, you won’t let it drop.”

Clark’s mouth closed over the thin chain connecting the nipple clamps, and once Bruce was sure he had a good grip on it, he used his fingers to tip Clark’s chin up further. A tortured whine slipped past Clark’s lips, but his boy kept his mouth firmly shut around the chain, even as the angle pulled on his clamped nubs tighter, stretching them even more painfully. He was completely devoted to each and every one of Bruce’s orders, and all the more pleasing for his unquestioning obedience.

“Hold your position,” he instructed and then removed his fingers, pleased when Clark did as he was told in spite of the tears now leaking freely from his eyes.

Bruce took his time to study his boy’s chest, coming round from the back of the chair to get a better view. Clark’s nipples were no longer the round little nubs he had been playing with earlier. They were now elongated, slightly flattened by the clamps, but very much engorged with blood, pulled up by the silver clamps and shaping Clark’s tits into peaked cones so different from their usual shape. Such a pretty picture his little painslut made, and with that thought in mind, Bruce fished out his phone to begin documenting his slut’s debauchment.

He made sure to get closeups of the tortured, overstretched nipples, and shots of how Clark was a guilty party to his own torment as he held the chain in his lips and kept his head tilted precisely so that his nipples were stretched exquisitely for the camera. Then, just in case Clark ever forgot how much he’d relished in abusing his titties, Bruce took several shots that showed off Clark’s needy body in its entirety, and especially highlighting his boy’s profusely leaking, lurid cock that hadn’t flagged in its interest at all despite the cruel treatment of his nipples.

Once he was satisfied with the photographs, Bruce moved closer to his targets for the night. Using his little finger, he carefully ran the pad of it over the exposed skin of Clark’s lengthened nipple from tip to root. Clark spasmed beneath him at the feather-light touch, even the gentlest bit of stimulation already falling hard on the side of too-much to his poor nipple. Bruce repeated the action again, but this time, used his nail to scrape against the tender flesh with just the smallest amount of pressure. Clark’s body twisted violently in reaction, which only served to torment his overstimulated nipples further as they twisted and stretched in turn with Clark’s instinctive movements. Bruce took sadistic pleasure in watching Clark work himself into a never-ending predicament as he tugged sharply first on one nipple and then the other, as he tried to alleviate the pain to the first nipple only for that action to jerk painfully on his other tit. It became a vicious cycle of endless torment as Clark was unable to stop his body’s knee-jerk reactions to each stab of self-inflicted pain. His overwhelmed boy was sobbing now, fat tears streaming down his flushed face, but not once did his good little painslut think of releasing the chain from his mouth, or to just lower his head to ease the strain on his titties.

It was so tempting to stroke himself to completion from watching his boy torture his own nipples helplessly, desperate for relief but only ending up digging himself into a deeper pit. Bruce was certain that the white of his semen would make an exquisite, enchanting contrast to the vivid red of his boy’s titties, but another time perhaps. He still had more plans for those gorgeous tits.

“Silly little slut. You’re just making it worse for yourself,” he finally said, adding mock disappointment to his voice. “But perhaps that’s just what you want, isn’t it? Dirty painslut.”

Sirrr…” his poor, beleaguered slut slurred around the chain that was the source of his agony, wet eyes pleading for release from his torment.

Bruce could not help but let a smile curl his lips as he watched how sweetly his boy begged with his expressive baby blue eyes. Such a sweet expression, and it made Bruce want to tease his boy even more, to push him even further past the limits of his pain threshold.

“Do you want it to stop?”

…’essirr… pwease… sir…” Clark begged.

Bruce hummed, pretending that he needed to seriously consider Clark’s plea. He moved until he was behind Clark again, so he could see all of his little boy in the mirror. He had a hunch building, and he wanted the best view of it if it proved to be accurate. Then, without so much as a by your leave, he brutally tugged at the chains, dragging both clamps off of Clark’s nipples at the same time in one sharp, merciless movement.

If Bruce had thought Clark was loud before, it was nothing compared to the sound that tore out of his throat now. Bruce’s deliberately cruel actions first stretched Clark’s tits out to their limit, making pain burn through his frazzled nerves, and then the sudden pop of release from that constant unrelenting pain and pressure, pitched Clark’s scream even higher, causing his voice to crack at its zenith. But Bruce was more concerned with the marvel that was his boy’s pent up, untouched cock. The sudden, unexpected liberation from the torment that his nipples had been suffering seemed to be a direct line of stimulation to his boy’s cock, and with the release of the nipple clamps, Clark was shoved freefall into a brutal, hands-free orgasm. His cock juddered once, twice and then thick white semen was shooting out of the tip in long, thick streaks that soared high into the air before falling to coat Clark’s abdomen, his heaving chest and even his chin. With the way Clark was shaking and jolting, some of his come ended up speckling his inner thighs and the mirror as well. His scream had since petered out into stuttering sobs born out of the sublime pain-pleasure coursing through his body, fed by the insistent throbbing of his pain-fattened tits and the high brought about by his long-awaited orgasm. It was such a mesmerizing demonstration of his slut’s sexual depravities, and exactly what Bruce had thought might happen.

He whispered filthy praise into Clark’s ears throughout his boy’s orgasm, praising him for being a dirty pain whore who could come from having his tits tortured. He told Clark how he was a good, obedient boy for abusing his own nipples on Bruce’s orders, and how even now, he still had the clamps hanging from the chain in his mouth because Bruce hadn’t told him to let them go. Such a good boy, his well-trained painslut. When, finally, Clark’s orgasm subsided and his boy was crying weakly, body laying boneless against the chair, Bruce took great satisfaction in collecting another set of photos of his good, slutty boy in the aftermath of a truly spectacular climax.

True to Bruce’s predictions, Clark’s sore, lurid nipples looked especially erotic when contrasted with the milk-white come issued from his own cock. The streaks of white framed his boy’s reddened areolas and the inflamed nubs, a perfect portrait of his boy’s shameless enjoyment of the deviant acts he’d partaken in. Not to mention the sheer amount of ejaculate his horny slut had produced! Clark always produced a lot of semen when he came, and after a week’s worth of edging, it appeared as if the entire week’s worth of come had been shot out to cover Clark’s skin. Lastly, the orgasm-dazed expression on Clark’s face was positively divine, and something Bruce would enjoy revisiting on busy nights when he wasn’t able to afford the time to play with his sinful little boy.

When Clark looked like he was more aware of his surroundings, Bruce stopped his litany of filthy praise and then carefully removed the nipple clamps still hanging from Clark’s lips to put them aside. He would definitely revisit using them – or maybe some of the other clamps he had – on Clark another time, for many more times to come.

“Did you enjoy coming from your nipples, boy?” he asked, tilting Clark’s head up to look directly into his boy’s eyes.

“…yes… yessir…” Clark slurred out in reply.

His voice was hoarse from all the screaming he’d done, body faintly gleaming with a sheen of sweat amongst the other bodily fluids he was covered with. A tiny, pleasure-addled smile lifted the corners of his lips, and despite how painfully red his nipples still were, Clark looked like a cat who had gotten the canary and appeared to be utterly blissed out from having a tit orgasm.

“Came… came so… much…” his good little slut added, still smiling dopily at Bruce.

His boy was such a marvelous wonder, already thinking fondly about how hard he’d come from the abuse to his nipples. There was no doubt in Bruce’s mind that it would not take much to convince Clark to put on a repeat performance on another night. Not that Clark would have the chance to say no to his master. Nevertheless, Bruce was fiercely glad to have found his gem of a reporter before anyone else did. He would take his time to polish him into the perfect, kinky little slut, all for Bruce to devour and use just the way he wanted.

“Yes, you did,” he agreed, gently brushing a thumb over his boy’s soft lips as appreciation for his honesty. “Your cock spurted like a little fountain, all without needing it to be touched directly. I think you like having your tits fondled even more than a woman. You don’t need to touch your cock to come, do you?”

“I… I…”

“Answer me, boy.”

“…yes sir… I don’t…” Clark whispered, as if saying the words softly would hide the plain, unvarnished truth that he had a deviant, sinful body that was capable of orgasming without direct stimulation to his sex. That was exactly what made Clark so alluring to Bruce, and Bruce was going to enjoy finding more ways to show Clark just how many more sinful acts his body could enact and would no doubt delight in.

“Good boy, my good little slut. You’ll continue being my good boy tonight, won’t you?”

That brought out an instant, earnest reply, “Yes, sir. Always, sir.”

“Very well. There’s one more thing I want you to do for me.”

“Yes, sir! Anything you want, sir.”

“Good boy. Now, hold still.”

Bruce picked up a tiny, black bullet vibrator off the side table and tore off a decent length of body tape. He pressed the cool plastic to Clark’s hot, tender nipple, ignoring how Clark tensed up involuntarily and hissed as he taped the vibrator firmly in place. Then he repeated the same steps on Clark’s other nipple with the second vibrator. He watched as Clark looked via the mirror’s reflection at the vibrators covering his nipples with curiosity but no comprehension, and couldn’t help but smirk, mind still fogged by the tidal wave of pleasure he’d experienced just moments before. Well then, his boy would be in for a surprise. Then, he flicked the remote controlling the twin vibrators on to the lowest setting and watched with satisfaction coiling low in his gut as Clark began to cry out and tremble as the vibrations hit his oversensitive nipples.

Ahhh! Sirrr… Oh oh sir! It h-hurtsss…! Ohhhh… too s-soon…

“Does it? But you’ll still come for me, just like this, won’t you?”

Nnnngh! Sir… Iaahhh…!” his boy broke off on a distressed moan as Bruce turned the vibrations up to its next setting.

Clark’s entire body trembled with the vibrations applied to his nipples, already abused nerves unable to process that much stimulus after only a brief recovery period. It seemed to short circuit Clark’s mind and he couldn’t respond to Bruce with anything other than uncontrollable moans and whines, tears starting to form in his eyes once again. Clark looked unfairly attractive when he was crying, and it only made the darkness in Bruce crave to make his boy weep even more sweetly. But despite the overwhelming, conflicting sensations, there was one part of Clark that knew just how Clark truly felt about this new form of stimulation. His flaccid cock was beginning to fill again, and it was all the proof Bruce needed that his boy was indeed loving this.

He toyed with the vibrators’ settings, turning them down to its lowest to give Clark a false sense of respite, being driving them up two more settings without a break in between, watching avidly as Clark shook and cried with the renewed, amped up intensity, arms straining futilely against his ties as he squirmed in an ineffectual bid to escape the sensual stimulus. His hole was convulsing rapidly around its plug, as if trying to suck it in deeper, a clear sign that his greedy boy was still hungering for more anal stimulation. Taking a cock in the ass only once in a night was no longer enough to sate Clark’s appetite now that he had been initiated into the dark delights of anal sex. If not for his intent to only have Clark come from nipple play tonight and nothing else, Bruce would’ve already pulled out that plug and have his cock take its place so that he could feel Clark’s tight, velvet-soft channel convulse wildly around him.

“My pretty little slut,” he praised, turning off the vibrators so that his boy could focus on what he was saying. “You’re going to come like this, just from how good your tits feel, understood?”

…uhhnnn… nnngh… yessir… ahhh! Ahhnderstood… sir- Oohhhh…!

Once Clark had voiced his acknowledgment, Bruce immediately flicked the vibrators back on and straight to their highest setting. Clark’s voice cracked around his loud, impassioned moans and his spine bowed. With how Clark was posed, it made it all the more obvious how much his tits were jiggling in time with the buzzing of the vibrators. Bruce found the nipple clamps again and brought them over to graze a metal edge against the base of one of the trembling nubs. In the next second, Clark was shaking apart, coming with his mouth open soundlessly in a rictus of rapture. Jets of milky fluid spurted from his cockhead, splattering messily with every twitch and spasm of Clark’s body. Bruce couldn’t help but slip his fingers into Clark’s open, sloppy mouth, pumping into that tempting, orgasm-slack orifice in a mimicry of what he wanted to do to Clark with his cock instead. Clark’s breath hitched at the sudden intrusion, but he couldn’t do much more than passively accept what he was given, not even having the strength to suckle Bruce’s fingers. It was no matter. Bruce was thoroughly enjoying how fucked-out Clark was from his second tit orgasm in quick succession, and as he pulled his fingers out of his boy’s mouth, he knew just how he wanted the night to end.

Bruce let the vibrations continue for a few more drawn-out moments after Clark’s cock had been well and truly spent, finally lying quiescent against a backdrop of sticky come-coated skin. He greedily drank in Clark’s soft moans of pleasure, luxuriating in the way they turned into lovely, weeping pleas for mercy to be granted to his hypersensitive, post-orgasmic nerves. When he was finally satisfied with the increasingly broken entreaties from his overwhelmed boy, he flicked the vibrators off and watched as Clark collapsed back into the chair as if all his strings were cut. Clark’s eyes were half-lidded, and his eyeballs were glassy underneath them. He looked like he wasn’t even present in this reality and only shuddered feebly when Bruce carefully pulled off the vibrators from his nipples. Clark looked like he’d come his brains out, mind fucked blank of all thought and magnificently debauched with two loads of his own come copiously decorating his chest, abdomen and groin. Some of it had even dripped down the planes of his body to coat his perineum. If Bruce were kinder, he would take pity and let Clark recover. But Bruce was not a kind man, and Clark had known what he was getting into once he had placed himself at the mercy of the Knight with his promises of doing anything and everything.

Swiftly, Bruce shifted the mirror so that he would have space to maneuver and then stood before his good little boy who was laid out, half insensate from orgasm and overstimulation, and still appeared too delicious to not be fucked hard and used well before the night was over. With far more control than he truly felt, he undid his tailored white trousers just enough to release his hard cock from its confines. The brazen, alluring behavior by his slut of a boy had been enough to get him hard again even after coming once in Clark’s tight slutty ass. After witnessing his boy come twice solely from his tits, Bruce was on edge himself. He grabbed the lubricant off the side table and slicked himself up perfunctorily to ensure that it would be easy to slide right back into his boy’s hole rather than to offer any comfort for his boy. Clark’s lewd fuckhole had long since learnt to accommodate his size, and after the first good hard fucking, could take him without anything more than leftover ejaculate and lube slicking the way for the rest of the night. He hitched Clark’s hips up so that that ready-to-use ass was at a better angle for him to pound into and removed the plug, carelessly tossing it onto the nearest surface. Clark’s rim fluttered as the plug was removed as if trying to cling to it, desperate to not be left empty. So, Bruce granted that wish and filled that erotically winking hole with his own cock in one swift, precise thrust.

Velvet, wet heat encased him as he buried himself to the hilt inside of Clark, accompanied by a loud squelch made from his previous leavings and the lube already in Clark’s ass. Fuck, Clark’s channel felt sloppier than he remembered it being, and it was incredible. Bruce was going to have to devise more opportunities to fuck Clark after he’d already ejaculated inside of his boy for future sessions. Perhaps he could experiment to see how much semen his comeslut could hold inside his greedy ass over a nice long session in the near future.

Clark took the abrupt penetration docilely. Only a soft startled cry born from oversensitivity let Bruce know for certain that his half-conscious boy had felt his ass being plundered yet again.

“Take it, boy. You know you wanted my cock in your ass again.”

Clark whimpered, head lolling sluggishly against the back of the chair, but did not dispute Bruce’s claims.

Bruce was close, and he started up a fast pace, intent on chasing his orgasm. He fucked ruthlessly into Clark’s loosened hole, forcing the occasional, pathetic little whine out from his boy who otherwise lay there passively, without struggle, allowing his ass to be used like a good, trained cockslut. Most times, Bruce preferred a more engaged sexual partner. But tonight, seeing Clark unable to do more than weakly twitch and faintly whimper whenever a thrust grazed his prostate, bound body exhausted to the point of not being able to become aroused even though his boy absolutely loved taking it up the ass… It stirred up his libido more than usual and drove him closer to his own climax. With a few more rough thrusts that rocked Clark’s languid body rhythmically into the chair, Bruce felt his climax fast approaching. He let out a low grunt as he pounded rapidly into his willing slut, making sure to nail Clark’s prostate with every stroke. The weak rippling contractions of Clark’s walls in reaction to having his prostate suddenly drilled provided just the right amount of friction and pressure for Bruce to crest the precipice into a most gratifying orgasm. With the sound of Clark’s feeble whimpers of too much echoing in his ears like sweet honey, he let another thick load of his semen smear Clark’s insides sticky-white, branding his slut yet again.

When he’d caught his breath and the aftershocks of pleasure had faded to a leisurely, lingering hum, Bruce pulled out of Clark’s hole and wiped the mess of come and lube clinging to his cock on the skin of Clark’s thighs. As he tucked himself back into his trousers, he admired the pink, well-fucked hole of his cockslut and how his come was beginning to drip back out without anything to stopper the soppy, fucked-loose opening. He took one last photo to commemorate tonight’s activities, making sure to capture in one obscene, nosebleed-inducing frame: Clark’s slack drooling mouth, his glassy blue eyes, those reddened and still sore-looking nipples, heavily come splattered body, and of course, his well-used, gaping fuckhole with warm fresh come oozing out to mix with the drying come staining his skin.

All in all, Bruce was immensely satisfied with how tonight had gone. He couldn’t wait for the next time he could push his horny, slutty boy past his limits once again. Clark always gave him the most beautiful results with each and every one of their sexual escapades. But until then, he was going to have to content himself with his new series of photos… and the video of his precious boy’s tit orgasms from the cameras hidden in the mirror.


 

Clark began to surface from his half-comatose state when Bruce had managed to get them both into the bathtub (that he’d custom-made to ensure that it could comfortably fit two grown men of their build and stature) and started cleaning them both up. It would probably have been easier if he’d removed Clark’s collar and let him start to regain some of his usual abilities. But Bruce liked having the chance to pamper Clark and he especially enjoyed seeing Clark relaxed and happy after they’d had one of their sessions. Not to mention Clark himself had said that he didn’t want the collar gone so soon after as he apparently liked feeling the lingering pleasurable ache their activities tended to leave him with. Bruce would indulge him pretty much all manner of things (had indeed done that many a time even before they’d become a couple, and sometimes, that they’d ended up together at all after their extremely rocky beginning was a miracle that Bruce still occasionally had difficulty processing) and this was something so easily accomplished that he hadn’t seen the need to object. He’d been gently washing off the drying semen on Clark’s chest when Clark stirred, nuzzling into the crook of Bruce’s neck.

Mmm… Bruce…”

Bruce planted a kiss on Clark’s forehead and murmured, “I’m here. How are you feeling?”

“Good… still kinda tingly?” Clark answered, gesturing weakly at his nipples before letting his hand flop back into the water with a tiny splash as if that action had cost too much energy. “But still… really good…”

Clark stretched languorously like a cat, pressing himself further back into Bruce’s chest as he made himself comfortable and also inadvertently, bringing his still reddish-pink nipples to Bruce’s attention. Really, if he were a decade younger, just the sight of them right now would probably be enough for Bruce to be raring to go for round three. It was almost a herculean feat to resist the temptation to tease them again now, but he managed. He’d put Clark through a lot tonight already.

“I’m glad,” was all he said as he resumed soaping up Clark.

“…can we do something like this again?”

Bruce couldn’t help but smirk. As he’d rightly guessed, Clark had really, really relished having his nipples teased. “Liked it, didn’t you?”

Although Clark wasn’t looking at him, his tone must have given him away because he received a jab in the stomach from Clark’s elbow. “Yes, I did. Like you said I would. No need to sound so smug,” Clark chided, but he was smiling slightly too.

They lapsed into contented silence, Clark letting Bruce take care of him as Bruce peppered his neck with affectionate kisses. Then Clark was moving, turning around in Bruce’s embrace and sending some water sloshing over the side of the tub.

“Let me wash you too?”

With Clark facing him, Bruce pecked him on the lips and then shook his head in reply. It had been a rather intense session – as their sessions were wont to be – and Bruce wanted Clark to just enjoy being taken care of.

“It’s alright,” he said. “Just relax, hmm?”

Then before Clark could protest further, Bruce distracted him with a deep, lingering kiss. Clark mewled into his mouth and then went boneless against him when Bruce ran a soapy hand down the line of Clark’s back and to the cleft of his ass. Still engaging Clark in the kiss, he carefully probed around that tender hole before slipping his fingers in to clean the insides.

Clark gasped, breaking away from the kiss. “Nngh… B-Bruce, I… I can do… that myself…”

“Shh, let me.”

To ensure that Clark would comply, Bruce deliberately pressed against Clark’s prostate and Clark melted against him with a breathless whimper, all the fight rushing out of him with that one sound. Knowing that would be the end of Clark’s protests, Bruce resumed his ministrations, careful of how sensitive Clark’s body still was.

A few moments later, when Clark had regained his breath, he grumbled into Bruce’s neck, “That’s cheating.”

Bruce brushed Clark’s hair aside gently and then planted a kiss against his temple. “You know I don’t always play by the rules. Now shush, and let me clean you up.”