Chapter 5 - Cry
Bruce set his teeth and tried to prepare himself for the rest of his punishment. He hated that Clark was strong enough to wrest him in this position and keep him there indefinitely, but Bruce could not do too much about it other than try to brave the punishment out. Once he had tried to bite his bottom lip – Clark had warned him not to do that again or he would find a plastic mouth-guard and force it into Bruce's mouth before they started.
And Clark's spankings – they hurt. They hurt so bad. Bruce found himself amazed that any pain could affect him after years of enduring Batman's pain. He had been shot, stabbed, bruised, cut, wounded, and even had his back broken once; surely all that physical agony would harden him against any feeling at all, but the spankings still hurt.
Maybe it was because Bruce could not react, could not move like he could when he stepped back from a well-aimed kick to soften the blow or rushing into a run and letting the adrenaline overcome the pain while he fought villains. He was not in the middle of a fight or swinging into a brawl; he was hanging over his boyfriend's lap (even more humiliating because his feet and arms touched the floor on both sides) and getting soundly spanked by Clark's rocklike hand. He couldn't move his poor ass out of the way or even reach back to shield himself as Clark would just grab his wrists and pull them out of the way.
Or maybe it was because, side by side, they were about the same size. They had squabbled over who was taller and even measured themselves on a wall, and Clark seemed to be about an inch taller, but Bruce was sure he was hovering over the ground while standing against the wall because he always thought Batman was taller than Superman. They could wear each other's clothes for the most part. Bruce's waist was smaller by an inch, but his arms were bigger.
If Clark were bigger and taller, Bruce thought he could have taken the whole disciplining thing a little better. Bruce had spanked all the three boys living with him at one time or another. Three of the worst times, Dick had snuck out to hang with Barbara Gordon, Jason had defied Batman on the job as Robin, and Tim had gotten such bad grades that he was in danger of having to repeat eighth grade. Each of those times, Bruce had grabbed the erring boy by the neck, bent him over a table, and swatted his bottom a few times with the designing ruler that he used for drawing blueprints. He had yanked the boy up straight again, turned him to face his stern mentor, and warned the boy that he had to shape up or his career as Robin was over. Dick had nodded reluctantly, Jason had snarled something mean, and Tim had edged near Bruce, probably wanting a hug which Bruce refused to give. But all of those times, the boys had been smaller and shorter than he was, just kids really, and he always felt like their father, though he was not happy about having such naughty sons.
With Clark, everything was different. He was not Bruce's father; he was his boyfriend. They were equals, or were supposed to be until Clark went on his little power trip and decided that he had to intervene in Bruce's life and set him straight. And yet he loved Clark and slept with him and got butterflies in his stomach when Clark sent him emails sign Your Superman.
And Bruce felt certain that he was too old for a spanking. He was nearing his forties, and no man in his late-thirties should be spanked, especially not the most powerful man in Gotham, a playboy millionaire with cars and a mansion and a butler. And no one should ever get to spank Batman, the Dark Knight who scared the most deranged villains and protected the innocent people and –
Thwack!
The second swat was just as hard as the first, and Bruce struggled to catch his breath. How could it hurt so much? But no, he was stronger than the pain; he would have to use those breathing techniques to work through the agony.
"All right, Bruce," Clark's voice cut through the air, "I'm going to ask you a few questions and you better answer them correctly or we'll be here all night. Yes?"
"Yeah!" Bruce hissed between his teeth.
Thwack, thwack, thwack. "What?" Clark snapped.
"Ahh! Yes, Clark, I understand," Bruce tightened one hand around the sofa leg and reached with the other hand to grab Clark's ankle.
Though Bruce could only see the carpet, he knew Selina was watching the whole thing, her green eyes opened wide to take in the sight. He was so angry that Clark let her stay to watch his humiliation – how could Clark do something so mean and awful to his boyfriend that he said he loved? But Bruce had to admit to himself (ever so reluctantly) that Clark was taking everything very calmly. If Bruce had caught Clark trying to hide Lois in a closet and then lying about it, Bruce would have turned away and left Clark forever. Bruce could never have handled that kind of betrayal, and he would choose being alone rather than having to admit that he cared about Clark so much that it hurt to see him with someone else.
But not Clark – Clark could confront his feelings and actually express them without working up to it for days or having someone (usually Alfred) tell him he must allow himself to feel something, to which Bruce strongly disagreed.
"Good boy," Clark approved. "Hold on there."
He proceeded to lay twenty blistering swats on Bruce's rear, each one loud and sharp. Bruce jerked with the first few, but then he braced himself and did not say a word as Clark spanked him. Each slap hurt, burning its way into Bruce's bottom with fierce intent and he had to resist the urge to kick his legs just to deal with the pain. He swore that he would do two hours of exercise everyday to strengthen his rear because maybe if he just had muscle back there, it would not hurt as much the next time Clark went crazy and decided his boyfriend needed a spanking for whatever crime Clark thought he had committed.
The room was quiet for a moment after the twenty swats, save for Bruce and Selina's loud breathing. Bruce kept trying to deal with the pain, dragging air into his lungs and then forcing it out; Selina sat perfectly still, not even blinking, but her chest heaved up and down as she took heavy breaths. Two minutes had passed – she still had three left.
"Since we have been together, what is the one rule we have?" Clark asked.
"Be – be honest," Bruce stammered. "I'm sorry. I meant to be honest, I really did."
"Why do we want to be honest with each other?" Clark went on, holding Bruce tightly.
"Because it's the right thing to do when – when you're sleeping with someone."
Frowning, Clark raised his hand and spanked Bruce four more times.
"Aagghh," Bruce groaned between clenched teeth, lifting his anguished face up for a second before dropping his head again.
"Try again," Clark instructed.
"It's the right thing to do when you're in a relationship with someone," Bruce amended.
"And what happens when we lie to each other?"
"It hurts the relationship," Bruce worked his mouth again, pressing his lips together and biting his tongue between his teeth though he was carefully not to bite down too hard.
"And what happens when you lie to me?"
"You get mad and beat my ass." Bruce felt Clark move, raising his hand up again. "Wait, wait! I mean, you get upset and I get spanked. That's my answer, not the other thing."
"And why do I spank you?"
Selina leaned forward, desperate to hear every bit of Bruce's answer. She had never been more attracted to him, and the pain in his voice excited her more than Batman's growl had ever done.
"Because you can!" Bruce wailed. "No, no, wait – because you want me to do better. Please, Clark, don't make me say more, not in front of her."
"Fine, I'll tell you why," Clark said. "I spank you because I care about you and I want you to be happy, healthy, and with me. Since you have trouble being the first two, I'm making sure the third happens and we'll work on the happy and healthy part. In fact, I'd sacrifice the happy part altogether if I could just have the healthy part."
"If you had your way, you'd make me stop being Batman," Bruce accused. "You'd make me hang up the suit, close the cave, and bring Tim to come live with you in Metropolis."
"I would do no such thing," Clark replied. "Batman is an integral part of who you are, just as Superman is for me. I don't mind your mission or your alter-ego, but I do mind when you try to lie to me and hide things. I know why you do it and I don't like it."
"I don't do it on purpose," Bruce confessed, wanting to keep talking and put off more spanking for a bit. He was already hurting, but he knew Clark was nowhere near finished yet.
"No, you do it to push me away. You are afraid of getting close to anyone so you push people away when you start to care about them."
"Who told you that? Alfred?"
"No, Dick did."
"That sneak," Bruce pulled his face into a snarl. "I'm cutting his allowance off and cutting of him out of the will. Tim gets everything!"
"Don't blame Dick for any of this," Clark warned. "Goodness knows, he's more together and well-adjusted then you'll ever be."
Clark raised his hand and started spanking again, moving up and down and back and forth all over Bruce's boxer-clad bottom while his boyfriend squirmed and panted and tried to keep quiet. The slaps came down hard and fast, never giving Bruce a chance to recover and pull himself together before another came.
Clark did not look exerted at all, and his face remained calm and serene as he swatted that bottom over his knee. Another dozen spanks, and he paused, looking up at Selina.
"Miss Kyle? It's been five minutes."
To her dismay, the clock on the wall read 6:54. As she had requested, Clark had started counting when the spanking started, but it all seemed to short. Bruce could barely catch his breath after this pause, and she wanted to see if more punishment would induce him to cry.
"No, you can't make me leave," she protested. "Not now. Five more minutes – please!"
"I said five minutes," Clark was firm.
"Five more minutes," she begged. "Just five more minutes. Give me that, and I swear I won't steal anything for a week."
Clark seemed to waver, but still looked unconvinced.
"Two weeks!" she cried. "Two whole weeks without stealing."
"Three weeks," Clark bartered.
"Done," she nodded fervently.
"I expect you to keep your word, and I'll know if you break it," Clark warned.
"Yes, sir," she answered as she relaxed back in her chair.
"No," Bruce found his voice, his breathing back under control, "make her leave right now."
"I'm the one making the decisions tonight," Clark announced. "When you shape up, you can make the decisions. Are you going to lie to me again?"
"No."
"You said that last time."
"Well, I mean it this time," Bruce declared, his legs kicking out in frustration and twisting his pants further down his legs. "I won't lie."
"Or try to hide things?"
"Or try to hide things."
"Or use Kryptonite against me?"
"It's the only weapon I have against you," Bruce protested. "What if you go crazy and I have to save the world from you?"
"I gave a piece of Kryptonite to Dick," Clark replied.
"Stop talking to him behind my back," Bruce yelled. "Dick is my son, not yours."
"And yet you push him away, too," Clark pointed out. "Every time I'm around, you're berating him or turning a cold shoulder to him or sneering at his work as Nightwing."
"He makes mistakes."
"So do you. Maybe this will help you remember that you are human, too."
Clark started spanking him once more, and Selina marveled at just how harsh he was with his writhing boyfriend. Bruce was holding on desperately, but she doubted he could win over Clark's determination. Bruce seemed set to stay quiet, but she thought he was fighting a losing battle. Clark obviously agreed with her.
"Let it out, Bruce," he commanded. "Stop trying to hold it all together and let it go."
"I can't," Bruce said between clenched teeth. "I can't do it."
"You let it out, or we won't finish for a long time to come," Clark threatened. "And I'll spank you every night this weekend and the next. And you know why? Because I'm not going anywhere no matter how much you push me. I'm here to stay, and you can fight me all you like, but I'm not leaving."
Apparently, that did it for Bruce. He screwed his eyes shut as a low sob filled his throat. Selina leaned forward again, scared to breathe.
Clark spanked him again and again, and then Bruce broke down, his face crumbling. Lowering his head, he started crying, choking over his own sobs and letting out all his pain, frustration, and misery. Clark did not stop; he kept spanking, and Bruce cried out softly at each at each blow.
Thwack! "Please, Clark, stop."
Thwack! "Don't do this me."
Thwack! "I'm sorry – really, I'm very sorry."
Thwack! Thwack! "Clark, I'm sorry I hurt you!"
Clark paused and looked up again. "Selina, time's up."
She wanted to protest, to argue that she was never leaving and that Bruce belonged to her and she wanted to have sex with him right then and there. But she saw the resolve in Clark's eyes, and she shakily got to her feet.
"Riddler's out of Arkham, right?" she whispered.
"What?" Clark looked confused.
"Everyone else is locked up," Selina struggled to breathe calmly. "Scarecrow, Poison Ivy, even Clayface. But Riddler – I can find Riddler."
She rushed towards the door.
"What are you going to do with Riddler?" Clark demanded. Bruce was crying too hard to voice any objections.
"What else?" Selina flung the door open. "Have sex with him until he forgets the answers to his own riddles. Thanks to you and the mess over your lap, I have never been so horny in my whole damned life, all nine of them!"
She ran out of the family room and down the hall, and Clark heard the front door slam behind her.
"Lucky Edward," Clark shook his head. "He's in for a long night."
Without another word, Clark set to finishing up the spanking, glad to have Bruce all to himself.
And Clark's spankings – they hurt. They hurt so bad. Bruce found himself amazed that any pain could affect him after years of enduring Batman's pain. He had been shot, stabbed, bruised, cut, wounded, and even had his back broken once; surely all that physical agony would harden him against any feeling at all, but the spankings still hurt.
Maybe it was because Bruce could not react, could not move like he could when he stepped back from a well-aimed kick to soften the blow or rushing into a run and letting the adrenaline overcome the pain while he fought villains. He was not in the middle of a fight or swinging into a brawl; he was hanging over his boyfriend's lap (even more humiliating because his feet and arms touched the floor on both sides) and getting soundly spanked by Clark's rocklike hand. He couldn't move his poor ass out of the way or even reach back to shield himself as Clark would just grab his wrists and pull them out of the way.
Or maybe it was because, side by side, they were about the same size. They had squabbled over who was taller and even measured themselves on a wall, and Clark seemed to be about an inch taller, but Bruce was sure he was hovering over the ground while standing against the wall because he always thought Batman was taller than Superman. They could wear each other's clothes for the most part. Bruce's waist was smaller by an inch, but his arms were bigger.
If Clark were bigger and taller, Bruce thought he could have taken the whole disciplining thing a little better. Bruce had spanked all the three boys living with him at one time or another. Three of the worst times, Dick had snuck out to hang with Barbara Gordon, Jason had defied Batman on the job as Robin, and Tim had gotten such bad grades that he was in danger of having to repeat eighth grade. Each of those times, Bruce had grabbed the erring boy by the neck, bent him over a table, and swatted his bottom a few times with the designing ruler that he used for drawing blueprints. He had yanked the boy up straight again, turned him to face his stern mentor, and warned the boy that he had to shape up or his career as Robin was over. Dick had nodded reluctantly, Jason had snarled something mean, and Tim had edged near Bruce, probably wanting a hug which Bruce refused to give. But all of those times, the boys had been smaller and shorter than he was, just kids really, and he always felt like their father, though he was not happy about having such naughty sons.
With Clark, everything was different. He was not Bruce's father; he was his boyfriend. They were equals, or were supposed to be until Clark went on his little power trip and decided that he had to intervene in Bruce's life and set him straight. And yet he loved Clark and slept with him and got butterflies in his stomach when Clark sent him emails sign Your Superman.
And Bruce felt certain that he was too old for a spanking. He was nearing his forties, and no man in his late-thirties should be spanked, especially not the most powerful man in Gotham, a playboy millionaire with cars and a mansion and a butler. And no one should ever get to spank Batman, the Dark Knight who scared the most deranged villains and protected the innocent people and –
Thwack!
The second swat was just as hard as the first, and Bruce struggled to catch his breath. How could it hurt so much? But no, he was stronger than the pain; he would have to use those breathing techniques to work through the agony.
"All right, Bruce," Clark's voice cut through the air, "I'm going to ask you a few questions and you better answer them correctly or we'll be here all night. Yes?"
"Yeah!" Bruce hissed between his teeth.
Thwack, thwack, thwack. "What?" Clark snapped.
"Ahh! Yes, Clark, I understand," Bruce tightened one hand around the sofa leg and reached with the other hand to grab Clark's ankle.
Though Bruce could only see the carpet, he knew Selina was watching the whole thing, her green eyes opened wide to take in the sight. He was so angry that Clark let her stay to watch his humiliation – how could Clark do something so mean and awful to his boyfriend that he said he loved? But Bruce had to admit to himself (ever so reluctantly) that Clark was taking everything very calmly. If Bruce had caught Clark trying to hide Lois in a closet and then lying about it, Bruce would have turned away and left Clark forever. Bruce could never have handled that kind of betrayal, and he would choose being alone rather than having to admit that he cared about Clark so much that it hurt to see him with someone else.
But not Clark – Clark could confront his feelings and actually express them without working up to it for days or having someone (usually Alfred) tell him he must allow himself to feel something, to which Bruce strongly disagreed.
"Good boy," Clark approved. "Hold on there."
He proceeded to lay twenty blistering swats on Bruce's rear, each one loud and sharp. Bruce jerked with the first few, but then he braced himself and did not say a word as Clark spanked him. Each slap hurt, burning its way into Bruce's bottom with fierce intent and he had to resist the urge to kick his legs just to deal with the pain. He swore that he would do two hours of exercise everyday to strengthen his rear because maybe if he just had muscle back there, it would not hurt as much the next time Clark went crazy and decided his boyfriend needed a spanking for whatever crime Clark thought he had committed.
The room was quiet for a moment after the twenty swats, save for Bruce and Selina's loud breathing. Bruce kept trying to deal with the pain, dragging air into his lungs and then forcing it out; Selina sat perfectly still, not even blinking, but her chest heaved up and down as she took heavy breaths. Two minutes had passed – she still had three left.
"Since we have been together, what is the one rule we have?" Clark asked.
"Be – be honest," Bruce stammered. "I'm sorry. I meant to be honest, I really did."
"Why do we want to be honest with each other?" Clark went on, holding Bruce tightly.
"Because it's the right thing to do when – when you're sleeping with someone."
Frowning, Clark raised his hand and spanked Bruce four more times.
"Aagghh," Bruce groaned between clenched teeth, lifting his anguished face up for a second before dropping his head again.
"Try again," Clark instructed.
"It's the right thing to do when you're in a relationship with someone," Bruce amended.
"And what happens when we lie to each other?"
"It hurts the relationship," Bruce worked his mouth again, pressing his lips together and biting his tongue between his teeth though he was carefully not to bite down too hard.
"And what happens when you lie to me?"
"You get mad and beat my ass." Bruce felt Clark move, raising his hand up again. "Wait, wait! I mean, you get upset and I get spanked. That's my answer, not the other thing."
"And why do I spank you?"
Selina leaned forward, desperate to hear every bit of Bruce's answer. She had never been more attracted to him, and the pain in his voice excited her more than Batman's growl had ever done.
"Because you can!" Bruce wailed. "No, no, wait – because you want me to do better. Please, Clark, don't make me say more, not in front of her."
"Fine, I'll tell you why," Clark said. "I spank you because I care about you and I want you to be happy, healthy, and with me. Since you have trouble being the first two, I'm making sure the third happens and we'll work on the happy and healthy part. In fact, I'd sacrifice the happy part altogether if I could just have the healthy part."
"If you had your way, you'd make me stop being Batman," Bruce accused. "You'd make me hang up the suit, close the cave, and bring Tim to come live with you in Metropolis."
"I would do no such thing," Clark replied. "Batman is an integral part of who you are, just as Superman is for me. I don't mind your mission or your alter-ego, but I do mind when you try to lie to me and hide things. I know why you do it and I don't like it."
"I don't do it on purpose," Bruce confessed, wanting to keep talking and put off more spanking for a bit. He was already hurting, but he knew Clark was nowhere near finished yet.
"No, you do it to push me away. You are afraid of getting close to anyone so you push people away when you start to care about them."
"Who told you that? Alfred?"
"No, Dick did."
"That sneak," Bruce pulled his face into a snarl. "I'm cutting his allowance off and cutting of him out of the will. Tim gets everything!"
"Don't blame Dick for any of this," Clark warned. "Goodness knows, he's more together and well-adjusted then you'll ever be."
Clark raised his hand and started spanking again, moving up and down and back and forth all over Bruce's boxer-clad bottom while his boyfriend squirmed and panted and tried to keep quiet. The slaps came down hard and fast, never giving Bruce a chance to recover and pull himself together before another came.
Clark did not look exerted at all, and his face remained calm and serene as he swatted that bottom over his knee. Another dozen spanks, and he paused, looking up at Selina.
"Miss Kyle? It's been five minutes."
To her dismay, the clock on the wall read 6:54. As she had requested, Clark had started counting when the spanking started, but it all seemed to short. Bruce could barely catch his breath after this pause, and she wanted to see if more punishment would induce him to cry.
"No, you can't make me leave," she protested. "Not now. Five more minutes – please!"
"I said five minutes," Clark was firm.
"Five more minutes," she begged. "Just five more minutes. Give me that, and I swear I won't steal anything for a week."
Clark seemed to waver, but still looked unconvinced.
"Two weeks!" she cried. "Two whole weeks without stealing."
"Three weeks," Clark bartered.
"Done," she nodded fervently.
"I expect you to keep your word, and I'll know if you break it," Clark warned.
"Yes, sir," she answered as she relaxed back in her chair.
"No," Bruce found his voice, his breathing back under control, "make her leave right now."
"I'm the one making the decisions tonight," Clark announced. "When you shape up, you can make the decisions. Are you going to lie to me again?"
"No."
"You said that last time."
"Well, I mean it this time," Bruce declared, his legs kicking out in frustration and twisting his pants further down his legs. "I won't lie."
"Or try to hide things?"
"Or try to hide things."
"Or use Kryptonite against me?"
"It's the only weapon I have against you," Bruce protested. "What if you go crazy and I have to save the world from you?"
"I gave a piece of Kryptonite to Dick," Clark replied.
"Stop talking to him behind my back," Bruce yelled. "Dick is my son, not yours."
"And yet you push him away, too," Clark pointed out. "Every time I'm around, you're berating him or turning a cold shoulder to him or sneering at his work as Nightwing."
"He makes mistakes."
"So do you. Maybe this will help you remember that you are human, too."
Clark started spanking him once more, and Selina marveled at just how harsh he was with his writhing boyfriend. Bruce was holding on desperately, but she doubted he could win over Clark's determination. Bruce seemed set to stay quiet, but she thought he was fighting a losing battle. Clark obviously agreed with her.
"Let it out, Bruce," he commanded. "Stop trying to hold it all together and let it go."
"I can't," Bruce said between clenched teeth. "I can't do it."
"You let it out, or we won't finish for a long time to come," Clark threatened. "And I'll spank you every night this weekend and the next. And you know why? Because I'm not going anywhere no matter how much you push me. I'm here to stay, and you can fight me all you like, but I'm not leaving."
Apparently, that did it for Bruce. He screwed his eyes shut as a low sob filled his throat. Selina leaned forward again, scared to breathe.
Clark spanked him again and again, and then Bruce broke down, his face crumbling. Lowering his head, he started crying, choking over his own sobs and letting out all his pain, frustration, and misery. Clark did not stop; he kept spanking, and Bruce cried out softly at each at each blow.
Thwack! "Please, Clark, stop."
Thwack! "Don't do this me."
Thwack! "I'm sorry – really, I'm very sorry."
Thwack! Thwack! "Clark, I'm sorry I hurt you!"
Clark paused and looked up again. "Selina, time's up."
She wanted to protest, to argue that she was never leaving and that Bruce belonged to her and she wanted to have sex with him right then and there. But she saw the resolve in Clark's eyes, and she shakily got to her feet.
"Riddler's out of Arkham, right?" she whispered.
"What?" Clark looked confused.
"Everyone else is locked up," Selina struggled to breathe calmly. "Scarecrow, Poison Ivy, even Clayface. But Riddler – I can find Riddler."
She rushed towards the door.
"What are you going to do with Riddler?" Clark demanded. Bruce was crying too hard to voice any objections.
"What else?" Selina flung the door open. "Have sex with him until he forgets the answers to his own riddles. Thanks to you and the mess over your lap, I have never been so horny in my whole damned life, all nine of them!"
She ran out of the family room and down the hall, and Clark heard the front door slam behind her.
"Lucky Edward," Clark shook his head. "He's in for a long night."
Without another word, Clark set to finishing up the spanking, glad to have Bruce all to himself.