dappered | Off the Record

Off the Record

Now Dick is all for undercover operations. No one can ever say that Grayson isn't a team player. He is all for the playing on the team! But this is a new direction he never thought his life would take. At least he's still a handsome devil even in... in a skirt. He lifted it off a classmate from the locker rooms a few days earlier (that had been an adventure all its own). Underwear was easier to get on his own, especially when seeing the clerk's face. Hey, what can he say he's a very supportive and open-minded brother for his sick sister.

Dashing around in spandex from head to toe chronically, this skirt thing is a whole new sensation for him in the breezy bathroom air. It's all so open and revealing! Man, how do girls wear this? Every part of him feels exposed. And these panties are barely holding him together! He stands like a man too, and it ruins the whole image. Dick has to remember to pull his legs in, keep one bent at the knee with his foot pressed against his other heel. Much better. This time he keeps his shades off. Everyone likes a pair of baby blues and Dick's got ones that'll pull in any old pervert.

"Alright, I'm feeling it. Feeling the aster." Usually he doesn't need to pump himself up, but this isn't a usual mission. Hell, this isn't any kind of mission. It's nuts, completely reckless, but there's no one else who can pull it off. Not the other members and certainly not the Justice League. He's on his own to put this despicable pet ring out of business. Giving himself one last look in the mirror, he checks what little gear he can get away with bringing. He has a tranquilizing spray and a case for the drug once he gets his hands on a sample, both disguised as cosmetics.

Now it's just a matter of sneaking out, which is, of course, no problem at all. Neither Miss Martian nor Superboy is registered in any of the public spaces. Quietly, he sneaks out through the main entrance toward the zeta portals.

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[ The more Superboy hears about this plan the less he likes it, since it seems to boil down to Robin allowing a bunch of sexually deviant adult men to treat him like a toy without any resistance, which would give him away instantly. Superboy was to sit and watch for a signal before acting, even if Robin seemed to be in danger or in pain.

It seems like something Aqualad ought to be here for, as team leader and also the most level-headed out of all of them, but Robin had insisted that they couldn't contact the rest of the team. Superboy bit down on his protests and jerked his head every time Robin seemed to want an acknowledgment. He'd done his homework on the location and the potential threats, it seemed like the worst thing that could be thrown at them would be ordinary thugs with guns. Superboy could handle guns. If he had to he could take Robin and simply go through the nearest wall.

Despite his misgivings there seem to be plenty of other guys just like him hanging around the club, only there to look tough and stand at someone else's shoulder. No one addresses him directly, and even the fact the he's in a t shirt rather than a black suit isn't enough to raise any eyebrows given how half the other patrons are dressed. There's skin everywhere, men and women in expensive clothes or scraps of fabric or things that seem like costumes. Some of them aren't old enough to be rightly called men and women, like Robin, and it doesn't take any acting ability at all to glare at the people staring hungrily in Robin's wake. He stands closer to the other boy without prompting and follows in his shadow when he takes the lead, navigating the club like an old hand.

He can already see what Robin was talking about that he'll have to force himself not to react to. There are soft (and not so soft) cries coming from some of the corners, people wielding crops and whips and other restraints. Leashes, collars, blindfolds. Nothing that could hold him, of course, but they make him irritable anyway. The idea that someone would willingly subject themselves to being collared, being controlled puts his back up. It reminds him of Cadmus. ]

[ And this is why Dick didn't want anyone coming with him. But the damage is done, so he may as well take advantage of Superboy and get him acclimated as fast as possible. So Dick leads them both to an open lounge area with a free couch. He takes in the open spaces around them, pulling Supes in the most advantageous spot to watch everything.

Then without preamble, he slides into Superboy's lap with eerie grace. Bare legs bracketing his waist, his skinny ass is shamelessly presented to the rest of the room. ]

Put your hands on me... [ His lips are right against Superboy's ear, not that it needs to be with his impressive hearing. Still, that's the point isn't it? To be provocative and wanted in someone else's lap. ] Act like you know how to touch me. We have to get you used to this, alright? [ Dick wraps his arms around his team member's thick neck, pulling himself closer and spreading his thighs wider. ] Because these pervs are going to be touching me [ He starts sliding a hand down Superboy's neck all the way to his hard chest. Then his lips play against cheek as best a farce for seduction as he can muster. He's done his research, but he hasn't exactly had a chance to practice. ] The way I'm touching you.

[ He doesn't jolt under Robin's hands but only just barely, controlling his instinctive flinch at an unexpected movement. Most of his experience with physical contact has been during training where Robin and Kid Flash both delight in running rings around him, scoring points for every touch he can't stop or keep up with. Sometimes a hand falls on his shoulder, or one of the others brushes by him, or sits down on the couch next to him, but the casual intimacy that normal humans (and humanoids, to include Kaldur and M'gaan) have between them makes him uncomfortable when he gets thinking too hard about it, and he steps back when he's given a choice.

Sometimes he isn't given a choice. He's had to ride in vehicles with someone squished against his side, he's had to carry one of his teammates out of the line of fire. He's let Robin use him as a vaulting platform. In the moment, the proximity doesn't bother him so much. It's only when he stops to think that he starts feeling awkward and overbearing in his own body, surrounded by creatures that are infinitely more fragile.

So he doesn't jump up and dump Robin out of his lap, although his eyes do go wide behind the sunglasses for a moment. Cadmus had given him an education, of sorts, but nothing useful in this vein, so he rolls his eyes to the side and checks out the behavior of some of their neighbors to awkwardly mimic. The ridiculous thing Robin's wearing is flimsy, silky, under his fingers and totally wrong for the armored costume he normally spars in, and the bare skin he can feel is warm and soft. ]

You didn't say anything about touching, [he whispers back, trying not to sound alarmed.]

I also didn't say anything about having a partner in this, but here you are. [ Maybe this'll teach Superboy not to volunteer so willy-nilly next time. ] Just keep the chalance to a minimum and don't turn off that angry look. You're an old hat at this, bored of it really. You're not here to be played with, you're here to let others play with me. Got it?

[ Dick slowly turns in Supes' arms, putting his rear right between the Kryptonian's thighs while his feet remain on the couch. That way everyone can see up his skirt. That's the point. He looks like a little boy in daddy's lap. ]

[ They're getting plenty of looks now. Speculative, jealous, interested, even a few sneers of disgust. A man passing by drifts a hand across Robin's ankle and Superboy can hear the increase of his pulse. Robin could shatter the man's jaw with a single kick but here he has to allow it, has to smile and simper and melt into Superboy's arms.

He doesn't like it. He doesn't like any of this, and ducks his face sullenly into the side of Robin's neck, putting his mouth on his skin, both hands cupping Robin's chest like some of the other men seem to be doing to the girls in their laps. Another boy to their right, older but still slender and delicate, sits face to face with a heavyset man in a suit and squeals in sudden distress as the slap of a leather thong comes down on his skin, and then moans theatrically as the man's fingers disappear between his thighs. The scent of sex, sweat and fresh blood is hot and thick in the air over the haze of cigar smoke and brandy fumes. ]

That doesn't look like play.

[ The boy's cheeks are streaked with tears, his ass and back a cherry red from the kiss of the leather. His eyes are closed and his mouth open in apparent pleasure for whatever's going on between his legs, and as Superboy watches the man in the suit takes the boy's chin roughly and pulls him in for a crushing kiss, guiding him like he had no will of his own.

The kiss makes his cheeks flame hot for no reason he can fathom, and he shifts uncomfortably beneath Robin. ]

Well [ Dick has to swallow first before he can speak, his own heart speeding up from the sight of that boy. Soon enough that'll be him and it sounds thrilling, but there's a thread of terror there too. Sex is something personal, that's what everyone says, that's what everyone knows about it. This, here, is just shy of being violating, and his first experience with all of it will be in public with strangers he despises. ] Some of it is more obvious than others.

[ He is glad Superboy is here now. For as much as he doesn't understand, he is being supportive. Comforting, even. ]

Pain's a part of it sometimes. And trust. Trusting your partner won't go any further than you want them to. [ Of course, all of this is simply regurgitation on Dick's part. He's never experienced any of this, only read about it online or in books. Talking out loud about it does help, though. ] Alright, gotta find a target...

[ Not all of these members will have access to the drug. Dick needs to find those with influence and money. They could be anyone, but he looks for those who don't need to flaunt their pets so brazenly. Each one he waits to catch their attention, pulling his knees up higher to show off his thighs and a bulge that is most definitely not girlish. One at least takes the bait, carefully rising up from his seat like this exchange between them is beneath him. He's as good an actor as Dick.

The man comes over and looks directly at Superboy, not him and asks if Dick is his boy. Now, it's presumptuous of the pet to speak for its Master, but Superboy isn't his Master. It should be okay and better than anything Supes will come up with on his own. ]

No, I'm not his. He's just a bodyguard. [ He gives Supes a bit of a condescending pat to the head before turning his big blue eyes back on the man. He isn't unattractive exactly, simply a little overweight in his middle age. ]

Your Master lets you come here by yourself to play? [ The man sounds rather offended by the idea, but Dick sets him straight. ]

Oh, I don't have one of those! [ Something grabs his attention elsewhere while he straightens out his skirt like a coy flirt. ] Not that I couldn't be persuaded...

[ The look he gives Dick is downright predatory. If he didn't already know what the guy wanted from him, he would be ready for a killing strike. Instead he stretches out his hand and lets the man pull him off Superboy's lap and to his side. His hands are big against Dick, even bigger than Supes'. Led back to the man's own comfortable corner, Dick waits properly by the stranger's side until he is beckoned closer. That's when he climbs into his lap like he had Superboy's. The man is talking to him, asking Dick about himself. Dick responds almost shyly at times, his hand fiddling with the buttons on the older man's shirt. Then his big hand slides up his skinny rear, pushing the skirt up in the process as he fondles him. Dick makes a noise in the back of his throat and it's no forgery. He's wanted to know what it would feel like for awhile and so far he isn't disappointed. ]

[ His brow knits as he mulls that over, trying and mostly failing to reconcile the idea with his own limited experience. Pain and trust were part of training, he understood, but not in the sense where you stood still and allowed someone to hurt you because you trusted them. You were supposed to trust a teammate to not hurt you, unless they were being controlled, in which case they would prefer that you disable or free them as swiftly as possible. A controlled teammate wouldn’t appreciate being allowed to inflict damage.

Watching grown men manhandle their young, apparently helpless playthings doesn’t seem like trust at all, although most of them are putting on a display of enjoying it or even begging for their tormentors to continue. The sexual gratification looks one-sided as well, except where two-- pets, he supposes, that’s what Robin called them-- are putting on a show for the benefit of an audience, toying with each other teasingly. They seem desperate for attention, and a couple even glance his way repeatedly for some reason he can’t fathom.

Fortunately or unfortunately, he’s saved from having to form any kind of reply to that or to the man asking if he’s Robin’s master by Robin himself, pursuing the mission and engaging the mark with the kind of dedication that Superboy grudgingly admired. Kaldur and Robin were usually the ones to count on to remember mission goals when the rest of them got distracted or separated.

The mark wastes no time taking advantage of Robin’s size, pulling him into his lap. Superboy has never really seen his teammate as small before, at least not in the context of how tiny he is compared to an average adult male. Everyone seems small to Superboy, who is himself smaller than Superman, but Robin had never come across as vulnerable or fragile despite barely coming up to his chest. In training he was always fast, controlled, and easily more capable than Kid Flash. Now the only thing he can see is how tiny his wrists are in the mark’s grasp, how easily he pushes and pulls Robin into the position he wants.

He grits his teeth at the groping and glances away, catching that small noise. It had sounded… unfeigned, inasmuch as he knew what real and faked moans sounded like, but Robin was trained in infiltration and other sneaky shit. Maybe this was old hat to him. Maybe he went out and did this every weekend with his mentor, who knew. ]

[ Dick certainly doesn't mind. He leans back into it squirming like he's mildly trepidatious about the whole thing, and there's no need to pretend. The innocent act is no ruse, much to the man's delight as he tells him to move slow. He's been trained as a pet, but never touched. It's a comment that makes the hand on his ass squeeze tighter, slipping his big fingers between the silky valley of his cheeks. The soft fabric pressing against his more intimate parts has Dick keening a little.

The man grips him tighter to listen to that voice waver again, the other wrapping around his neck gently and manhandling him like a ragdoll. This close, Dick doesn't need to talk very loudly to get his attention. His lips are practically touching the other man's as he talks about ownership and devotion. He's heard about the staggering rates of companionship here, how they never waver. He would like to feel that kind of power.

It gets that cocky grin off the stranger's face. He's certainly considering something, but Dick pretends he can't see it. He's too busy wriggling and mewling in his lap to be any threat. But he knows something's coming, and after a minute of petting and touching, he asks Dick stand up and not to wander off too far while he takes a call. ]

Score. [ It's said just quietly enough to have Superboy hear him. Looks like he might be on the right track. If all goes well the man'll be back with a dose of this drug. But he can't put all his chips on table. He has to make sure he catches the attention of someone with the gravity to get him drugged and contracted. This is their one and only shot, so he keeps looking. The man never said he couldn't keep playing around.

Straightening out his skirt, Dick continues looking for action. It's not hard to find. A few coy looks and others are crowding around him, some with their pets. One already has his hand up his skirt, stroking his thigh idly. Two of the men are talking among themselves as if Dick isn't even there, but he's the topic of conversation. They talk about doing things to him, pulling down his panties and spanking him. Letting their pets jack him off. Fingering him until he cries. It's all taken with a straight face, but it's clear Dick is affected by the talk. His blue eyes are blown out, his face is flushed, and his heart is beating like a trapped animal. Would they actually do it is the question. ]

[ and now they wait. superboy practices his stony face, folding his arms across his chest to keep his hands from clenching every time someone touches robin. he can hear what they're saying and he can also hear the effect it's having on robin's heartbeat, all but galloping now. what he can't tell is if it's simple adrenaline or anxiety, excitement or fear. robin doesn't break character once, looking and sounding every inch the helpless pet they think he is.

it makes him wonder how much of it really is acting, and he suddenly wishes he'd thought to ask robin about how experienced he was before they got here. implanted knowledge or not, even he knows that this is no place to offer up real vulnerabilities. every predator in this place would swoop down if they even suspected that he was a virgin, much less someone who looked and was dressed like robin.

but that's why superboy is here, he reminds himself uncertainly. to make sure nothing bad happens. he has to trust that robin knows what he's doing and what he can handle. it's his job just to watch.

so that's what he does, leaving off his pretense of looking at anyone else in the room and keeping his gaze firmly on robin.

the man stroking his thigh wears a gray suit and has wandering hands, eventually sliding up robin's leg under the skirt to cup and fondle him through his thin panties. he wants to see that pretty skirt tented, he says to his companion. check and see if there's a cock at all underneath the satin. ]

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