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Body & Soul	By : Kip Category: DC Verse Comics > Batman Views: 4504 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Batman series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Oh god, he's here again. I close my eyes, shut myself away from what's happening around me.
It's only my skin, he can't get to the real me. I'd fight, but I'm too weak, haven't had anything to eat for days, weeks really, except… and I'm not going to think about that. It isn't digestible anyway.
Odd thing that…
I focus on that, as something to think about, a way to distract my attention from what's going on…
You'd think protein would be digestible, wouldn’t you? I automatically start to mentally catalogue all the other facts I know about human semen. Damn, I wasn’t going to think about that. Hot air gusts over my ear, startling me.
"Even in this state, you're so absolutely mesmerising, Bruce."
His voice is even more unsettling than his proximity. Though he'd have to be close, considering what he just did. And I'm not going to dwell on that. I'm not going to even think about it, and I'm certainly not going to react to him. I refuse to.
My body disagrees. Deep inside me various pain receptors flare as he withdraws, acknowledging his existence.
"I wish you'd talk to me," He says quietly, settling beside me. "Let me know what you're thinking?"
"Thirsty," I manage to say. It’s not begging. I tell myself that. Haven't I earned at least a cup of water by now? After all that?
"Oh, sweetheart, you should have said…" He leans over, the bed shakes as he balances himself. Pain runs over me in waves. I push it to the back of my mind. It doesn’t matter since acknowledging it isn't going to make the slightest difference, not to anything.
He holds a cup to my mouth. In the past I might have attempted some form of protest, but four days of starvation, and the shifting weight of the chains, have made me wary. I want a cool drink far more than a cool bath. Although a warm bath would be nice… as long as he wasn’t in it with me. I shudder as the memory of last night intrudes.
Push it away. It didn’t happen. Except some tiny traitorous part of my brain reminds me that it did…
I think I loathe him even more than I loathe Them, if that's possible. I'm not going to think about Them either. Not going to think about wings and advanced technology.
Bugger. Images flash through my head. At first glance you might mistake them for angels, until you see their faces – but those are the faces of conquerors, cruel and hard, and alien. They took this world, and he… this person, I refuse to even dignify him with a name, though I know it perfectly well… this traitor to our species handed them this city on a plate; my city, along with so many of my friends. Now he's enjoying his reward: Stewardship of Gotham, or what's left of the place, and me along with it. I've been alone before in my life, but I don’t think I've ever felt it quite like this.
"Don’t…" He reminds me that he's there, and watching. "Someone as beautiful as you shouldn't look so sad." He runs a hand up my stomach. "How can I make you happy?"
Let me go? Failing that, kill me… I say nothing.
"Did I damage you again?" He asks, turning me around like I was a child and checking with a probing finger, clinically evaluating my condition. "I didn’t mean to. I want this to be as good for you as it is for me." The fingers of his other hand tease around the wide metal collar, absently tracing the first few links of the thick chain. "There's no bleeding this time, but I expect you to let me know if you're being injured," He sits up again, apparently satisfied that his property is relatively intact.
"Would it have made any difference?" My voice is hoarse, rasping, I hardly recognise it as mine. "Would you have stopped this time either?" I shouldn’t have said that! Inwardly I berate myself for even engaging this far with him. I had made a vow to ignore him, ignore him so totally that he doesn’t exist for me. So that he was just getting a body and nothing else, an empty husk…
Damn. Back to square one. I can always start again. Except I'm so tired, and sore, and hungry, and … Shut up, Bruce! I force myself to shut off the pity party.
"I like having you talk to me, I wish you would do it more often." He says, in that odd way of his, half accusatory, half wistful.
"What do you say to someone who's had his cock up your arse, when you don’t want them to?" I ask wearily, too exhausted to be polite about it. "Especially when you know they're going to do it again."
"If you accepted that you belong to me, I'm sure you would learn to enjoy it." He tells me. "We shouldn’t have to resort to these extremes. I don’t like having to keep you chained like this, you know?"
"And you think I do? I'm not into rape, bondage, or men, and if I were, you certainly wouldn’t have been my first choice, Edward."
As expected, the use of his name gets his full attention. He sits there, stunned.
"You said my name," His dark eyes widen. "I… like it."
Damn! Why is it that whenever I try to do something to provoke him into rejecting me it seems to have the opposite effect?
"I don’t," I remind him, deciding that since I seem to be talking to him I may as well make the most of it. "I don’t like any of this."
"I keep telling you that it doesn’t have to be this way," He sighs loudly, "You exist only for my pleasure now, you may as well accept that, Bruce. The Thanagarians gave you to me, they would have killed you if I hadn't asked for you."
"I wish they had killed me," I tell him honestly, "They may have given you my body, Nygma, but they can't give you my soul." I tell him. "Not even the damned pain implant they put in my head can do that."
A thin hand slides around my chin, forcing me to look at him. "Are you sure?"
"You can fuck this flesh all you like," I resort to crudity, since I know it irritates him, "but you won't be getting me along with it."
"Oh, Bruce, why do you have to be so tiresome?" He lets out another long sigh. "I only want a little co-operation."
"Why?" I meet his eyes this time, trying to see what it is that drives him. "Why me?"
"I don’t know," He says simply, "I really don’t know. There's something about you that draws me."
"I don’t mean it to," I tell him. "I'm not gay."
"Neither am I," He shrugs. "I've never done anything like this before, never even wanted to."
"No?" I let out a weak laugh, all I can manage after the past few days, "You could have fooled me, Nygma. You've raped me twice today alone, that's hardly something a totally heterosexual man would have gotten pleasure out of doing."
"I... can't explain it," For the first time since my ownership was handed to him, Nygma looks flustered, not in control.
"I've never felt this way about anyone. Literally no one." He says it warily. "Bruce, you probably won't believe me, but I never considered myself a sexual being, I was never attracted to the idea of copulation in any form, not until I saw you, and now it's all I can think about, YOU are all I think about…" He catches hold of me and rubs his groin against mine. "Feel what you do to me."
Great, it's not bad enough that the damn aliens had to trash Gotham, they had to hand me over to a repressed late-starter! I'm living with a sexual teenager… Idly, I wonder if his parent's ever let him have pets? For a self-proclaimed genius he doesn’t seem to have the first clue about taking care of living things.
Clue… Riddler… I'd smile at my own pun, but my muscles don’t want to know, my legs are trembling so much by now that I can no longer maintain even a kneeling position.
"Bruce?"
The room is spinning. His arms around me are the only thing keeping me upright. Even that's not going to be enough.
"Bruce!…" He's worried enough to almost shout.
Everything hisses into oblivion.
"Sssh, take it easy, you fainted." A throaty voice soothes, there's an arm under the back of my neck, and I can guess whose it is. He doesn't tolerate anyone else touching me. "The medic said it was a combination of exhaustion, stress, and dehydration. I simply should not have indulged your little foibles for so long. We have to get you eating again," He whispers. "Here."
I'm eased into a slightly more upright position. There's a strong smell of oranges, and is that pineapple? Despite my resolve, my mouth waters.
He holds a piece of orange in front of me. It's then I realise that he intends to feed me, with his own fingers.
No way! I close my mouth, tightly.
"Bruce, you can't keep refusing food," He says softly. "Your body desperately needs nourishment."
I don’t think I've ever heard him shout. Absently, I wonder why.
"I could have you fed intravenously," He reminds me.
I can hear the frustration in his voice.
Good, now you know a little about how I feel!
"I'd tear the tubes out." I manage to say. The slave collar digs into the back of my neck, despite the thick pillow underneath.
"You're very chafed," He notices me trying to shift position. "If you would only agree to co-operate, then I could have that horrid iron band replaced by something more comfortable."
Naturally he isn't talking about taking the restraints off altogether. I'd still be in chains, only they'd be prettier. More shiny too, probably… Nygma's taste tends toward the upper end of the price scale.
"I'm not for sale." My throat is raw inside as well, I don’t want to think about how that happened. The screaming probably. Even Tantric disciplines can only do so much, and the past few days have been… trying.
My stomach growls, and churns. Whatever's on the plates smells wonderful. It probably tastes wonderful. Hell, considering how long it's been since I last ate anything resembling food, even my cooking would probably taste good. That reminds me of Alfred. Tears come, despite my efforts to suppress them.
"Oh, babe!"
I forgot about him being there, actually forgot: a sign of how weak I am, how fractured my concentration's getting. Of course he had to notice. But then, when isn't he watching me? The man's obsessed.
"Here," He lifts me up higher, propping me with several pillows. I realise that I'm in his bed again, and start to remember how else he used these things… No! Not going to think about that! But for once he isn't trying to seduce me, or at least if he is, he's being a bit more subtle about it. Or a lot more subtle.
Given my current state it seems sensible to take whatever concessions I can get right now. He still hasn’t ordered me killed, despite my being as uncooperative and difficult as possible, apparently execution isn't in his game plan.
At least, not yet…
"Here," He settles a plate on my stomach. Evidently it's occurred to him that sitting upright isn't going to be all that comfortable for me at the moment, not considering how much use he's made of me over the past three days.
Or is it four days? I'm losing track of time. Along with everything else.
Thoughts of anything but food go straight out of my head as I'm faced with a fine bone china plate piled high with delicacies.
Do I refuse? Will he even let me starve myself to death?
"If you don’t eat, then I'll have you strapped to a hospital bed and fed," He says in his low, patient voice. "Although having you debilitated like this does make some aspects of our relationship very much easier on me." He adds, lightly stroking his hand over my arm..
Of course, he would have thought all of his options out very carefully, and mine: this is the Riddler, or he was.
Edward Nygma is very probably my intellectual equal, a thing that I don’t admit every day.
Okay, so for now it's out of my hands. Decision made, I eat.
The indoor garden is warm, and relatively private. Just the two of us. How utterly wonderful. Not. An afternoon with only my closet-sadist, lunatic owner for company. Joy.
"Here, the Thanagarians brought some of this over for me, try some, it's delicious," He says, waving a piece of peeled cut fruit under my nose, drops of pale clear juice running down his fingers. "Uh-uh, I've got it."
Despite my reservations, I reluctantly open my mouth and let him pop the sliver inside. He's right, it IS tasty.
"More?" His expression softens, as I nod.
Why did I do that? I swore to myself that I wouldn’t encourage him…
"Good," Happily he leans forward and deposits another juicy segment on my tongue. "There, isn't that so much nicer than going hungry?"
Suppressing a sigh, along with the urge to bite him or do something equally futile, I kneel there, holding myself still. Keeping the weight off the sore places restricts my movement so much that the damn chains are hardly necessary; they're still there though.
There's a twinkle in his eye as he feeds me a piece of another fruit, randomly sampling pieces himself, while making sure that I get the lion's share. He's determined to get me back to full fitness. I play along, since that can only benefit me in the long run; always assuming that I survive the short-term that is…
I won't let him win, I won't…
"Oh," His eyes lock onto my lips as a stray drop trickles along the edge of my mouth. With both wrists restrained behind my back, I have no way to get it.
"Can't have you messy," He whispers, and swooping in he tilts my head back, and licks it off. "Mmm, better…"
Several days of this sort of far-too-intimate attention have accustomed me to most of his habits, and I manage to quell the nausea that instantly rises in my stomach at the touch of his tongue on me. It's humiliating, but at least it's not painful - unlike some of his more eccentric kinks.
Lifting a cup to my lips he tilts it so that I can drink. The wine is diluted, but tasty for all that. It would be – when the damned aliens gave him Gotham, he claimed ownership of anything in the city that took his fancy.
Including me…
Of course, he deliberately angles the cup just a little too steeply, so that even though I crane my neck as far as it will go, a few more drips nevertheless escape down toward my chin, necessitating another dose of his latest 'game'. The man is a complete pervert.
After eating, I find myself getting drowsy. The room's warm, and I'm still weak from days of starvation. His fingers card lightly through my hair, the movement's mesmerising. I try to stay awake, but gradually I feel myself succumbing.
"There," He murmurs, "Shush, don’t fight it…" Hands stroke along my shoulder, easing my head onto his thighs.
"You need the rest," He says in a low voice. Pillowed on him, I want desperately to resist the pull, but exhaustion takes me.
Waking, confused, I find myself laying on my side, with a long arm draped over my ribs, the heat of another body spooned tight against my back.
"If your blundering around wakes him and spoils this for me, you will be very sorry…" A low voice hisses from above and behind me. "Although possibly not for very long…" The heat retreats as my bed partner shifts into a seated position.
That's Nygma talking. I feign sleep, it isn't a difficult job: I'm barely awake as it is. Blinking one eye surreptitiously open under the cover of my now dishevelled fringe, I make out another of the household slaves kneeling at the side of the bed.
"I'm sorry, master!" The youth sounds genuinely terrified. But then, given Nygma's recent whimsies, I would be too if that were me crouching there, and he were this annoyed with me. "I was ordered to give you the message… the soldier said,"
"Silence," Nygma hisses. "I have the despatch, have I not? Need I remind you that the only person who gives orders in this house, is me?"
"…n.n.o, master!" The boy, for he's barely got stubble, frantically prostrates himself at Nygma's feet. I can hear his voice trembling.
From the tense feel of the man behind me, Nygma is working himself up into one of his cold furies. If he lets loose on the kid in this state, then the lad is going to get badly hurt. I remember how vulnerable Dick was at this age; for all his fighting experience. This boy doesn’t stand a chance.
I can't let that happen…
Regardless of how unpleasant this could end up being, I immediately resolve to distract the man. It actually helps that by now I'm familiar enough with how the bastard's mind works to have a clear idea of how to do it without getting an electric shock in the process. So there is a positive side to being tortured? Just peachy…
Better get on with that diversion…
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Body & Soul