Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/771929.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Dark_Knight_Rises_(2012)
  Relationship:
      Bane/John_Blake, John_Blake/Other(s)
  Character:
      John_Blake, Bane_(DCU), Ra's_al_Ghul, Talia_al-Ghul_|_Miranda_Tate
  Additional Tags:
      Alpha/Beta/Omega_Dynamics, Mating_Cycles/In_Heat, Dubious_Consent,
      Slavery, Angst, Soul_Bond, Self-Lubrication
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-04-23 Updated: 2014-01-22 Chapters: 5/? Words: 7670
****** A Familiar Taste ******
by rohruh_(orphan_account)
Summary
     Bane and John are soulbonded Alpha/Omega slaves owned by Ra's al
     Ghul.
***** Chapter 1 *****
John’s heat has been building steadily for the past few hours. It started as a
gentle hum, a tingly itch underneath his skin that held him on edge, but now
it’s progressed to a frantic jumble of wantand need and Bane. His ass is
leaking, wet and slippery and ready to be filled. 
He can feel Bane’s frustration building as well. When they work themselves into
this state, their communicated becomes limited to pulses of emotion. Bane is
angry. He wants to claim what is his, to fuck John into the ground and fill him
up with his knot and his seed. The longer they’re kept apart, the more frenzied
they both become.
He jerks at the chain rooting him in place. It’s a fruitless attempt. The thick
metal chain is attached to his collar and bolted into the wall.
He wants Bane. He wants him now, here, surrounding him with his scent and his
touch. John is panting already, his legs spread and his hips bucking, a small
whine stuck in his throat. 
The door to his cell swings open and his guard steps in. “You ready, Pup?” John
nods eagerly.
He hates this. Every time, he tells himself that he’s not going to give in. He
won’t put on a show for them, no matter how badly he wants Bane. When the time
comes, though, he’s always too far gone to care. He wants Bane in him. Now.
The guard unlocks his collar from the chain and clips on a leash. “Let’s go
then.”
John stands on wobbly legs. He’s wearing only a pair of black boxer-briefs,
already so wet that they’ve become uncomfortable, but he’ll keep them on for as
long as he can.
The guard leads him down a narrow hallway. He gives John’s ass a generous
squeeze. “You smell delicious. Ready to put on a show for us, slut?” John knows
to keep his mouth shut. He feels a flash of anger from Bane; he hates it when
other people touch John like that. They enter a small room with one final door.
This is the door that leads to the Pit.
“Have fun, Pup,” the guard gives him a vulgar grin. He opens the door, unclips
John’s leash, and shoves him in.
It’s cold in the Pit. John feels the chill, his nipples pebbling, but at the
same time he’s so so hot.
He looks up towards his audience. The Pit is small circular arena surrounded by
rows of seats spiraling upwards. The audience is protected by a tall wall that
not even Bane could breach. Their Master, Ra’s al Ghul, sits at the front.
Sometimes, the Pit is used for fights or competitions. Today, everyone is here
to watch John get fucked. The seats are filled with Masters, most accompanied
by their slaves.
Bane is still shackled in his cell. They’re dragging this out, waiting until
John is pathetic and too desperate for it to function. He keens.
He wants Bane so badly.
John paces along the edge of the Pit. His heart is hammering in his chest. “If
you want your mate so badly, you’re going to have to prepare yourself for him,
John.” R’as smirks cruelly. Their eyes meet, and John glares at his Master.
Ra’s looks amused.
John’s knows how this goes. He must do as he’s told if he wants to see Bane. 
He jerks his underwear down his hips and kicks them aside, reaching back touch
at his hole tentatively.
His whole body relaxes and sighs with relief when he pushes the first finger
in. His cock starts to fill, jumping to attention. One finger isn’t enough,
though, and after a couple of thrusts he adds in a second and then a third.
Soon enough he’s fucking himself with his hand, cock hard and curving towards
his belly. He drops to his knees and starts fucking himself in earnest,
spreading his thighs as wide as he can.
He looks up at Ra’s, and Ra’s nods.
John feels it when they enter Bane’s cell. His cock jerks up and spurts out a
trickle of precum. He lets out a small whine. He wants to grab his cock, smear
the precum down the shaft and start jerking himself in time with the fingers in
his ass, but he needs to wait for Bane. He feels him approaching, being led
towards the Pit closer and closer until he’s there, just outside the door, so
close John can almost feel him. Bane is radiating a possessive thrum of lust so
powerful that John feels like the wind has been knocked out of him.
The door opens and finally, finally, they’re together. Bane has his mask on
still, a safety precaution because without it he would be too strong for any
guard and completely unmanageable. It keeps him drowsy and weak, still powerful
and threatening but contained enough that he can be controlled. John hates the
mask.
They stare at each other for a moment, both too overwhelmed to react, and then
Bane lunges for him. They tumble together and Bane growls possessively, tearing
at his pants to free his cock. He fits himself behind John and just shoves in,
one smooth movement until he’s snug where he belongs and filling John up just
like he needs. They stay like that for a moment, both too wrapped up in the
feeling of being together to move just yet. John is full, perfectly and
deliciously full. Bane rests his chin on John’s shoulder and he can feel the
gentle puffs of warm air as he exhales against him. In this moment, he wants
nothing more than to kiss him. Bane wants it too, John can feel it.
Bane reaches forward to grab onto John’s shoulders. He leans back and pulls
out, just briefly, before shoving back in. He starts up with a brutal pace,
fucking John hard and quick. They’ve both been waiting too long to prolong
this.  
Bane lasts a couple of minutes before he digs his fingers into John’s shoulders
and squeezes, pulling out one last time and slamming in with such force that
John is knocked onto his elbows. John’s ass is flooded with come, warm and
full. Bane’s cock swells at the base, impossibly big and growing bigger,
absolutely perfect and just what John needs.
Bane leans in close to his ear, “You’re mine, John. Mine and no one else’s. I’m
going to fill you up with my seed and keep filling you, and you’re going to
take it.”
John whimpers. He is still so hard. His erection has been leaking steadily the
entire time, his cock jumping in time with Bane’s thrusts. He knows he’s not
allowed to touch himself until the end, though. It’s a rule that Bane has given
him and as much as he wants to grab his cock and jerk himself hard until he
comes, nothing feels as good as pleasing his mate.  
They stay like that for a few minutes while they wait for Bane’s knot to go
down. Their time is limited. The audience is starting to get bored and
restless, and John wants to ignore them, but he knows that if they don’t start
up again soon then Ra’s will intervene. He clenches around Bane and Bane gets
the message, leaning back and wiggling until his cock slips out of John. He
starts to fuck him again, less frenzied now that the first orgasm is out of the
way.
They fuck for hours, until John’s hole is loose and wet and he can’t hold
himself up anymore. He’s sprawled out on the ground, ass in the air and legs
wide, while Bane continues to pound into him. He’s hitting his prostate
relentlessly. John is absolutely boneless. He doesn’t know when he started to
cry, but he’s wailing desperately into his forearm in time with Bane’s thrusts.
He needs to come so badly.
John would do anything to stay with Bane like this forever. Ra’s has other
plans though, he always does. Their collars buzz and constrict, a message from
Ra’s that time is almost up.
“Are you ready to come for me, John? You’ve been such a good boy. Such a good
boy for me,” Bane whispers to him. John nods into his arm. Bane stills and
eases himself out, stroking John’s back gently. He grips John by the hips and
flips him around so they’re face to face. He crowds back over him and boxes him
in, gathering John’s face in his hands while he slides back into him. They
press their foreheads together as close as can be, relishing in their last few
moments together.
John presses a kiss to Bane’s mask. Bane stills. He closes his eyes and
shudders, a wave of longing and sadness passing between them. Bane kisses him
back through the mask, and it’s not nearly enough but it will do. “I love you,”
Bane whispers, and just like that John is coming so hard that everything turns
white, and Bane’s knot it swelling in him one last time, and it is all so
wonderful and bittersweet and John wishes with all of his heart that this
moment would never end.
They cling to each other, riding through the aftershocks of their orgasms. John
kisses Bane’s eyes, his cheeks, his chin. “I’m yours. No matter what happens,
I’m yours and you are mine,” he whispers back. They lay there for a while
longer until Bane's knot finally goes down.
The door opens and two guards step into the arena. Bane could take them both
down easily, could fight his way through half of the security surrounding them
probably, even with the mask on. It wouldn’t be worth it, though, and they both
know it.
They untangle from each other and stand. The same guard that led John to the
Pit has come to bring him back. John walks towards him, looking purposefully
away so he doesn’t have to see the knowing look in his eyes. The guard clips
his leash back on, gives it a jerk, and turns to lead him back towards his
cell. 
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Notes
     Mostly John for the next little bit! I apologize for the feels in
     advance, it's going to be a bumpy road for him.
John’s life before Bane was long and aimless and really quite sad. He went
through the motions and did what he had to because that’s what he was supposed
to do, and there wasn’t much of a reason not to.
And then he met Bane, and all for the first time ever his life had meaning. He
finally understood what true, genuine happiness was, and what it meant for his
heart to be so full that it absolutely consumed him. He learned how seeing
Bane’s eyes crinkle when he smiled could make his heart swell and knock the
breath right out of him and just make him feel so full to the brim with love.
 ***
John doesn’t remember his parents—they both died when he was very young. He was
sent to a boys’ home run by a man named Mr. Ross. Mr. Ross was cruel. He
punished the boys for no reason and made them work long and hard hours. The
bigger boys who were strong and built well were sent to do hard labor. The
younger boys were given chores around the house, like cooking and cleaning.
Everything was strictly regimented. 
John worked in the kitchen preparing meals and scrubbing dishes. He kept to
himself and stayed out of trouble, and he got along well with the other boys.
Shortly after his 16th birthday, Mr. Ross called him into his office. “I can’t
help but notice what a nice young man you’ve grown into, John. Come around my
desk and let me have a good look at you.” John had heard rumors about Mr.
Ross’s interest in some of the boys. He had never considered himself all that
attractive, what with his big ears and awkwardly wiry frame, but Mr. Ross
seemed to think otherwise. He ran his hands down John’s chest appraisingly,
cupping his groin and then moving back up towards his shoulders. He gave a
small push. John looked up at him with wide eyes. “Down,” Mr. Ross commanded,
and John dropped to his knees. He was too terrified to do otherwise.
Mr. Ross reached for his belt buckle and undid his pants, pushing them down
just past his balls. John had never seen another man’s cock before. Mr. Ross
coaxed him through it, grabbing the back of John’s head and holding him in
place. The taste was vile. He gagged and sputtered as Mr. Ross tried to force
his way deeper and deeper. It didn’t take long before he was spilling down
John’s throat and sending him on his way with an appreciative nod.
John spent the rest of the day in the bathroom, sick to his stomach. 
*** 
Mr. Ross started to call John to his office every week. John knew that it
wasn’t his place to argue. He had it better off than most of the other boys; he
wasn’t beaten for no reason or forced to work for 18 hours a day. If he was
sick, he was even given medicine. 
This is how things worked:
John’s parents were poor, and they left him no money. He was going to be sold
into slavery on his 17th birthday, as all of the boys were.
There were two ways to become a slave: one was either sold into slavery, or
condemned to slavery as punishment. People like John, who had no money and no
one to take responsibility for them, had no choice in the matter. If his
parents had lived, things would have been different. But they were gone, and
the oh-so-charitable Mr. Ross needed to be repaid for going out of his way to
look after the boys.
He hadn’t encountered many slaves before; nobody that he knew was rich enough
to own one. He had a vague idea of what was in store for him, but he didn’t
like to put much thought into it. That would make it a reality, and John
preferred to remain blissfully ignorant for as long as he was able. 
***
When he was 16 ½, John came down with something. His skin felt tingly and hot,
like a fever creeping over his whole body. Nothing could relieve the sensation.
He tried his best to ignore it at first, but it kept getting worse instead of
better.
He woke up one morning writhing in pain, his whole body pulsing with something
he didn’t quite understand.
Mr. Ross came to look at him, inspecting him from head to toe and then flipped
him onto his stomach. He pulled John’s pants down and John whimpered and
stilled, terrified. 
“Oh, John,” Mr. Ross exclaimed. “You’re a special little boy, aren’t you?”
He told John that the pain was going to get worse but that eventually it would
go away in a few days.
John was an Omega, and this was his first heat. As much as Mr. Ross wanted to
fuck him senseless, the boy was beautiful and he would sell for a fine price.
But finding out that he was an Omega meant so much more, and a virgin Omega at
that.
John was moved to his own room for the rest of his heat, to make sure that
nobody touched him. He squirmed and kicked and groaned, begging for something
that he didn’t understand.
Eventually it stopped, and he was moved back to his regular room with the rest
of the boys, and that was that. 
***
As John’s 17th birthday approached, the reality of his future set in. Mr. Ross
would leave with a boy on his 17th birthday, and they all knew that they would
never see him again. The next day, someone new  and younger would take over
their bed, and all evidence of them ever having been there would slowly
disappear.
The days grew shorter and longer at the same time until his birthday was weeks
away, days away, hours away. John said a solemn goodbye to the friends that he
had left at the home and packed a bag with his few belongings.
Mr. Ross summoned John to his office for one final blowjob, and then he led him
to his car and took him away.
This was John’s first time leaving the home since he had arrived, he realized.
 Mr. Ross took him to a building that was cold and metal and sterile. There
they met a man named Maurice, who shook Mr. Ross’s hand and then turned to look
at John greedily.
“An Omega, you say? And still a virgin”
“Yes, he had his first heat a few months ago.” Mr. Ross responded.
Maurice grabbed John’s chin and turned his head from side to side. “He is quite
pretty. I’ll give you five thousand for him.”
“Ten,” Mr. Ross countered.
“Seven thousand,” Maurice snapped.
“Eight thousand and we have a deal.” They held each other’s gazes for a moment
and then Maurice nodded.
“You have yourself a deal, Mr. Ross. Eight thousand for the boy.” They shook
hands. Mr. Ross left the room. 
"Come along, then," Maurice grabbed John by the neck and steered him forward.
"We have lots of work ahead of us."
And thus, the next chapter of John’s life began. 
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter Summary
     Sorry for all of the John angst. :/
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
John hated slave training. Not because of the unrealistic expectations, nor the
rigid and cruel rules that set him up for failure. John could handle anything
thrown at him— he didn’t care enough about himself to let it upset him. What he
couldn’t handle was the abuse towards the others. Mr. Ross had been mean, but
here you were beaten and starved for three days just for accidentally looking a
superior in the eye.
Two weeks into John’s training, he was caught sneaking some of his lunch to the
boy beside him. The kid, Dylan, was barely 14 and had been sold to the facility
with a badly forged fake ID (not that anyone cared). He was so tiny and frail
and obviously underweight that it pained John. They were given three meals a
day, different variations of the same bland gruel full of vitamins and devoid
of taste, and Dylan needed it more than John did.
They were both punished, made to eat gruel until they vomited and then some
more. They went without food for the rest of the week.
John was overcome with guilt. Shadowing that, though, boiling beneath the
surface—there was anger. And resentment. For the first time, John began to
question his authority. He was no longer complacent to accept his lot in life
and move on when there were people around him that he could help. It sparked
something inside of him, something devious and daring. He wanted to break the
rules. 
He just needed to learn how to do it without getting caught.
***
John being a virgin meant that he would stay that way until he was sold. He was
taught to deep throat until it was second nature, and to kneel with perfect
posture for hours on end. How to bend in ways he didn’t know his body could,
and seduce someone just by baring his neck a certain way, and the proper
etiquette for every social situation imaginable. Alongside all of this, he had
taken most of the younger kids under his wing.
His deviancy was mostly limited to stealing extra blankets and warmer clothes
for them during the winter, but he did what he could. Spring was approaching,
and unbeknownst to him, his second heat was coming along with it.
One morning, Maurice personally came to collect him. John hadn’t seen the man
since his first day there. His heart hammered in his chest and his stomach
clenched with the sickening thought that he had been caught— everyone was going
to get in trouble and it was all because of him. Maurice didn’t seem angry,
though. He was blunt and gruff but no different than the day John had met him.
He led John into the infirmary and had him sit down on the big steel table,
where the doctor took his temperature and heart rate and then had him take off
his pants so he could look down there.
The doctor turned towards Maurice, disregarding John. “He’s coming along
nicely. It looks like his heat is due about a week and a half from now.”
“Wonderful,” Maurice grinned. He jerked his chin towards John, “put your pants
back on and come with me.” He strode out of the infirmary without a backwards
glance and John scampered to catch up with him.
“You listen to me, boy. Some men will be coming to see you over the next few
days and you will be on your best behavior. I don’t need to warn you about what
will happen if you disobey me, right?” He turned to John with a pointed look.
“Next Monday is your selling date. There has already been quite the interest in
you, and some of our wealthier clients would like to come have a look at you
before it. Do you understand me?”
John felt dizzy and lightheaded. He hadn’t realized this was coming so soon.
“I said do you understand me, boy?” Maurice glowered. “Don’t think we haven’t
noticed what an interest you’ve taken in the little weaklings, John. It would
be a shame if something were to happen to one of them.” 
“I—I understand, Sir. I will be on my best behavior.”
“Good. Smart boy.” 
John spent the rest of the day getting washed and shaved and primed to look his
best. At the end of the day, two different men came to look at him. The same
happened the next day, and the one after that.
John played nice. He let everyone pick and prod at him, run their hands over
his naked body criticize the small scar he had on his abdomen and his sticky-
outy ears. He didn’t eat for half a week, too sick with the thought of what was
coming. He knew how to sneak his food to the others without getting caught now,
and in a few days he wouldn’t be there to help them anymore.
The thought of sabotaging his sale crossed his mind, but it was a stupid idea
and he knew it. Someone would probably still buy him in the end— they would
just pay less for him.
His fate was sealed. He could only hope that whoever did buy him wasn’t a
complete monster.
***
His actual sale was much less eventful than he had anticipated. The whole thing
was done behind closed doors. 
He bathed and dressed in yet another new set of clothes. At half past six,
Maurice came to collect him. “You did well, boy. Fetched a pretty penny.” He
pulled out a black band of leather and fastened it around John’s neck, clipping
on a matching leash.
Maurice told John that his new owner was named Ra’s al Ghul. He was foreign and
mysterious and incredibly, incredibly wealthy. He had come to see John on the
second night. John remembered him and his cold, calculated gaze. Some of the
other men had looked at John with pure predatory lust in their eyes, but Ra’s
looked at him like something more. Like a prize to be won.
"I like the finer things in life, you see," he had said to Maurice while
running his hands down John's back. "I don't deal well with imperfections. I
want only the best."
Maurice led John into the room where Ra’s was waiting and handed him the leash.
John kept his gaze down, mindful of the rules.
"We'll have to get you some new clothes and a real, quality collar tomorrow,
John," Ra's addressed him, Maurice forgotten. 
Once they were in the back of his limo, Ra’s pushed John down to his knees and
then grabbed his chin. “Look at me. I want to see your face.” John met his eyes
timidly. “Beautiful,” he breathed, “just stunning.” He let go of John’s chin
and his hands moved lower. “Now suck me, slave. Take my cock down your pretty
little throat.”
Chapter End Notes
     Bane stuff will be coming soon, I promise! John's backstory is almost
     done.
     Also, shameless Tumblr plug: http://rohruh.tumblr.com/
***** Chapter 4 *****
Chapter Summary
     There's some non-con in this chapter.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
When they arrived at the estate, Ra’s showed him to his room. John had never
had his own room before. It was simple, a tiny bed in the corner with a dresser
up against the wall and a small bathroom attached. Ra’s had him drop to his
knees and suck him off again in his new room, and then he left, locking the
door behind him.
The next morning at breakfast, Ra’s went over his expectations with John. He
was to wake up at 4:30 every morning and go downstairs for his breakfast.
Following breakfast was an hour-long workout with a trainer. Ra’s didn’t want
John putting on too much muscle, just a lithe runner’s physique. Afterwards, he
was to return to his room to shower, brush his teeth, and get dressed. At 6:30,
he would pick up breakfast from the kitchen and bring it to Ra’s. The rest of
his day was to be spent following Ra’s around, providing him with whatever
services necessary. When Ra’s didn’t want him, he would be sent back to his
room. 
The house was huge, with beautiful tall ceilings and spiraling staircases and
too many different wings for John to keep track of. He had never been somewhere
so grand before.
It all seemed simple enough. John made a few nervous mistakes and was punished
for them, but not severely. Ra’s would usually leave for most of the day and
didn’t take John with him, so he was left to his own devices. Ra’s usually used
his mouth in the morning, and sometimes again at night when he returned home.
Three days passed and he found himself slipping into the routine with more and
more ease. On the fourth day, though, he woke up with a warm tingly fever
spreading down his body.
He pulled himself out of bed and into the kitchen, where the cook handed him
his bowl of gruel and an assortment of vitamins. “You don’t look too good, are
you feeling okay?”
“Yeah—Yeah. I’m just a little warm. I think I might be coming down with
something.” She gave him a long pitying look and scooped an extra spoonful of
gruel into his bowl.
John took his time eating, willing his body to snap out of it.
He was worried about his fever, but there was something bothering him even
more. Ra’s still hadn’t fully used him, and he had no idea why. He was told at
the training facility that he was being sold a virgin, and that’s why he hadn’t
received the same training as the rest of the slaves. He had assumed—dreaded,
but assumed—that his new master would use him straight away. He didn’t know
what Ra’s was waiting for. Each day that went by with Ra’s only using his mouth
puzzled him.
Once he forced the whole bowl of gruel down, he made his way to the gym. The
trainer, Bryce, gave him a curt nod. “You’re just doing a long run today, I’ve
already programmed it into the treadmill for you.”
John climbed onto the treadmill and powered it on. He usually liked running; he
found it therapeutic. He hoped that today it would help chase away his dizzying
fever.
Just as he started to work up a sweat, Bryce sidled up beside him. “You smell,”
he paused to inhale sharply through his nose, “different.”
“I’m feeling a little under the weather today.” John offered.
“Hm. No, not like that. It’s a... good different. You smell quite nice,
actually.” He inched closer to take another whiff.
This newfound attention made John uncomfortable—Bryce had never acted like this
before. He turned back to stare straight ahead and upped the speed on his
treadmill. The trainer hovered for a moment and then backed away.
Bryce wasn’t bad looking. He was thick and well muscled with a soft fuzz of
hair covering his naked torso. He had been working out before John had come in,
and he still had a light sheen of sweat covering his body. John had never
thought of him in this regard before; he hadn’t thought of anyone sexually,
really. He pushed the thought to the back of his head and kept running.
The exercise did make John feel a little better. The adrenaline pumping through
his veins overrode his fever and he thought that he had gotten rid of it
entirely until he was under the warm spray of the shower and then it came
flooding back, worse than before. He soaped up his body, amazed by how
sensitive everything felt. His nipples pebbled underneath his touch, sending a
jolt of arousal straight to his cock. He continued further downwards, fingers
skirting over his hardening cock and back towards his ass. As soon as his
fingers made contact, his entire body shuddered with a thrum of want. His cock
was fully hard now, and his ass was coated with something wet and slippery. He
circled his hole with his fingers tentatively, teasing his hole. It felt nice.
Really nice. Bracing himself, he pushed a finger in... and came all over the
tiled wall, painting it with thick ropes.
Well. That was new. 
John had a libido. He was a 17-year-old boy, for Christ’s sake. It was muted,
though, by the reality that he was a sex slave, and would be one for the rest
of his life.
Sex was not fun for him, nor something that he fantasized about.  It was
something associated with being forced, with scary older men whom he had no
attraction to. When he did get off, it was by himself in the privacy of his bed
or the shower, and it didn’t happen often. It was more of a release than
anything; a way to let out the tension built up inside of him, with no
association to other people.
The way he was feeling today, though, was different. He was horny.
He didn’t like Bryce, he didn’t want Bryce to touch him, but he missed that
smell of heavy sweat and masculinity. He wanted somebody on him, pinning him
down. He wanted somebody in him.
He brought his hand back to his ass and pushed in again, two fingers this time.
It felt really, really good. He lost himself in the motions of it, thrusting in
and out, adding a third finger. He grabbed his cock with his other hand and
started jerking it in time with himself, already hard again.
He felt his orgasm build this time, knew what it was before it hit him. He
spilled onto his belly and collapsed into the spray, boneless. It was only in
the moment of lucidity afterwards that he realized he was going to be late.
Fuck.
He quickly rinsed and toweled himself off. His ass was still thrumming with the
need for something inside of it, but he ignored it this time. He grabbed a
clean set of clothes from his dresser and hurried downstairs to collect his
Master’s breakfast, carrying it back upstairs and making it into his room right
at 6:32.
Ra’s was still groggy with sleep and if he noticed that John was late, he
didn’t say anything. “Come here, sit on my lap.” John placed the tray down and
crawled onto the mattress, straddling him. He gave John a pointed look and John
immediately picked up a strawberry and brought it to his master’s lips.
Ra’s’ tongue caressed John’s fingers in a way that would normally make him feel
gross, but instead sent butterflies down his stomach. “You taste delicious.
Come here, let me smell you.” He pulled John down to lie atop him so he could
bury his nose in his neck. The close contact made John feel heady. He groaned
into it, grinding down on his arousal.
“You’re in heat, John. I can’t wait to finally fuck that ass. I’ve been waiting
so long.”
That brought John back to reality, and he stilled. Heat. He was in heat. That’s
what this was?
Ra’s slipped a finger into his pants and brought it to his hole. “You’re
already so wet for me, slave. What a good boy.”
John didn’t want this anymore, not now that he had a grip on himself and
understood why he was feeling this way. Ra’s shoved a finger in roughly and
moaned, moving it around.
It felt good; it was a relief to the constant craving that he was feeling to
having something fill him up. Ra’s was mouthing along his neck wetly now,
adding a second finger in and scissoring them.
John felt sick.
He wanted to be alone in his bed, doing this to himself.
This wasn’t how he had pictured losing his virginity. He didn’t want to want
it. He wasn’t attracted to Ra’s. Whatever was happening to him, he didn’t like
the feel of it. Of losing control over his own body. 
Despite all of this, he was still grinding down onto Ra’s, still moaning
wantonly to the feeling of a mouth on his neck and fingers in his ass.
“My good little Omega slut. Are you ready for my cock, boy?” John whimpered. He
didn’t want it, but at the same time, he wanted it so, so badly. “Get on your
hands and knees like a good slave.”
John rolled off of him and into position, grateful that this meant he wouldn’t
be face to face with Ra’s anymore. He closed his eyes and braced himself
against his forearm. Ra’s pressed the blunt tip of his erection to John’s hole,
rubbing it against him lazily before pushing the head in. John tensed at the
intrusion, his whole body going rigid. “Open up for me, John.”
John’s mind was running but his body relaxed, taking what it needed. Ra’s
pushed in, one long steady thrust until his cock was swallowed to the root.
John let out a pained whimper.
It hurt. A lot. But at the same time, the fullness felt right, like everything
was clicking into place where it should be. Ra’s started to fuck him with
quick, shallow thrusts, eager to claim his new property fully. He didn’t last
long, his ministrations getting less coordinated and snappier until he grabbed
John’s hips desperately tight and grinded down, spilling into him.
They both lay there, momentarily sated.
John felt good. He tried not to let himself overthink it. His ass was full of
come, Ra’s’ cock still deep inside of him plugging it in and maximizing his
chances of being bred. They could keep going like this for hours, John’s body
at its most fertile... 
As soon as he realized what he was thinking, John startled and leapt across the
bed, pulling himself out from underneath Ra’s and as far away as possible. He
pulled his knees to his chest and huddled into himself, eyes wide with horror.
“You—,” he couldn’t get the words out. “I—,” he tried, “am I going to get
pregnant? Are you breeding me!?” How had he not thought about this sooner? 
Ra’s chuckled condescendingly, some malice behind it. “Of course not. Why would
I want to procreate with you, stupid boy? You are on birth control; you have
been since before you came here. What do you think that those pills you take
every morning are for?”
John breathed a sigh of relief.
“This is just your heat talking. It’s designed to get you pregnant. Your body
is tricking you.” He leaned back, cock hardening again, “now get back
underneath me, we’re not nearly done. I will not tolerate disobedience like
that again.”
***
It was night by the time Ra’s finished with him. Both of them were boneless and
filthy, covered in sweat and come and lube. As soon as Ra’s gave him permission
to leave, John fled to his room. He took a long, scalding hot shower, doing his
best to scrub himself clean. Once his skin was red and raw, his fingers pruned
and the water lukewarm, he admitted defeat and climbed out, toweling himself
off and changing into a pair of sleep pants and a soft sweater.
It was only once he was safely tucked into his bed, warm and exhausted and
absolutely disgusted with himself, that he let down the shaky wall that he had
been holding up and began to cry. He choked and stuttered through vicious sobs,
burying his face into his pillow and curling into himself, wishing that he
could disappear. He felt dirty and stupid—so, so stupid.
It was a long, sleepless night.
Chapter End Notes
     ETA: okay, so here’s some background information for the verse that
     doesn't fit into the fic fluidly:
     Omegas are very rare, as are Alphas. Betas make up over 90% of the
     population. Ra's is a Beta.
     Soul bonds are even more rare, but they do happen. They must be
     respected, even when they’re between slaves (to a lesser degree in
     these cases, though).
     Omegas are incredibly valuable because of their heats. Betas don't
     react to heats to the degree that Alphas do (Alphas are much more
     sensitive to them), but they can feel them.
     Bane stuff will be next chapter, finally!
***** Chapter 5 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Ra’s didn’t call for him the next day. John spent the day in bed, sore and
broken, left with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company.
The worst part was that his heat wasn’t gone. It had been satisfied enough that
he could suppress it and try his best to ignore it, but there was still part of
him that wanted more contact. Not necessarily sexual contact—he just wanted
someone to hold him, to coddle him and envelop him in their body heat and tell
him everything was going to be okay.
Two more days passed before Ra’s called for John again. By that time, the heat
had passed entirely. Ra’s acted as though nothing had changed, barking orders
at John and manhandling him around.
It took everything John had in him not to flinch every time his Master came
near him.
***
One morning, John came down for breakfast to find someone new sitting at the
table. She was beautiful and elegant, perched delicately over a cup of steaming
tea.
Her eyes narrowed at John, “You must be my father’s new plaything.”
John immediately dropped his gaze. He didn’t know that Ra’s had a daughter. He
nodded meekly and did his best to disappear into the background.
Talia al Ghul was strong and charismatic, and she took an instant dislike to
John. For the most part, she ignored him— but when she did bother to
acknowledge him, it was always with venom.
She had been away at school, John learned. Now that she was home, Ra’s devoted
his utmost attention to her, fawning over her every want and need. Along with
this, John began to fade into the background. He was still expected to be there
at all times and serve his purpose, but he was no longer the shiny new toy.
John started to accompany Ra’s outside of the house, as well.  On those days,
John would return to his room after breakfast to find a lovely, expensive
outfit hanging by his bed. Ra’s would take him to meetings and business dinners
and events, giving a less-than-gentle tug to the collar fastened around John’s
neck to remind him to behave himself.
***
Though John didn’t know it at the time, everything changed the day that he
returned from his morning workout to find a pair of black dress pants and a
cashmere navy sweater hanging beside his bed.
“We’re going somewhere special today,” Ra’s told him later that morning. “Go
fix your hair. It’s sticking up in the back.”
Ra’s was taking him, John learned, to a fight. Big and strong slaves—mostly
Alphas—were groomed and primed to become absolute beasts. John had known two of
these slaves in his life, both older boys at his first home who were taken away
to training facilities. He hadn’t seen them again after that, but had heard
stories from the other boys about what was in store. They were going to the
Pit, a ring where fights of the highest caliber took place.
They arrived at the Pit and were seated around a big ring with a spiral
staircase surrounding it— Ra’s on a luxuriously plush leather chair, and John
kneeling on a pillow by his feet.  The room was filled with an excited chatter,
and something about it made John nervous. His mouth felt dry and his stomach
was full of butterflies, and he didn’t know why. He wiped his sweaty palms on
his thighs and then dug his nails into them, trying to calm himself down. 
With a dramatic boom, all of the lights went out except for the one directly
above the Pit. The chatter came to a halt immediately. The door swung open and
a big, muscled slave was led into the arena. He was chained and muzzled,
buzzing with testosterone and anger. The guard led him to the far side of the
arena and began to undo his chains. A second, massive slave was led in by
another guard and taken to the other side of the arena. Once the slaves were
both unchained and the guards out of the arena, a buzzer sounded and the two
were on each other.
It was a weird sensation, being near an Alpha. John could feel his body
responding to their presence. He found the fight vulgar and frightening but at
the same time, he was drawn to watch every moment of it.
After about twenty minutes, the one of the slaves was finally knocked
unconscious with a particularly brutal blow to the head. Guards re-entered the
arena to chain up the winning slave and carry out the other.
Four more of these fights went on. Each fight was more brutal than the last,
with the slaves getting bigger and stronger with each round.
As the last two slaves were dragged from the arena, both too bloody and
battered to stand themselves, Ra’s finally acknowledged John for the first time
since they had arrived. He leaned forward and carded his fingers through John’s
hair just as a new slave was led into the arena. “That slave is going to lose
tonight,” he whispered smugly. “Bane will tear him apart.” Ra’s leaned back
with a smirk just as the door opened for a second time.
The slave who was led out this time took John’s breath away. He was an absolute
monster, with a massively muscled body and wild, feral eyes. John didn’t know
what to do with himself. He felt absolutely overwhelmed. He couldn’t look away,
he couldn’t breathe; all he could do was stare.
He was terrified and infatuated all at once. Bane—John could tell that it was
him, he knew it just as he knew that the sky was blue and grass was green—was
as Alpha as they came. He was so thick and meaty and strong. He would be a
great provider, something deep and subconscious within John thought
delightedly.
Bane seemed to see him, as well. His gaze felt zeroed in on John, which was a
ridiculous assumption to make because there was no way he would be able to see
him from so far away, especially with John shrouded in the dark. But Bane’s
gaze held steady; even as his shackles and muzzle were removed, he didn’t look
away.
Ra’s’ hold on him tightened, clenching a fistful of John’s hair and bringing
him back to reality. He tore his gaze from Bane, reluctantly, and looked up at
his Master. John felt hazy and off kilter, almost as though he was in a dream.
Ra’s didn’t seem to notice that he had grabbed John, his eyes trained sharply
on Bane as well. John spared one more look at his Master and then turned back
to the stage, drinking in as much of Bane as he could. Bane seemed to have
snapped out of it as well, focused on his opponent now but still stealing quick
glances in John’s direction.
The buzzer sounded and with a snarl, the two men lunged at each other. Bane
took down his opponent with such ease that it was almost laughable. The poor
slave was no match.
Ra’s pulled at John’s hair again, this time with intent. He nodded his chin
towards his crotch and gave John a look. John crawled between his Master’s legs
and undid his pants, pulling his cock out with reluctance. He didn't want to
focus his attention on this; he wanted to keep watching Bane. John pumped his
hand up and down the shaft a couple of times, composing himself, before wetting
his lips and leaning down to lick the head. Just as he did, though, he was
taken by a wave of anger so foreign that it stopped him in his tracks. He
stuttered, confused.
Ra’s glared down at him and booted him with a sharp kick to his side, “get a
move on it.”
John apologized and moved to take the head into his mouth. Once again, he was
overcome with anger, this time combined with fierce feelings of wrong and
possession and disgust. He couldn't do this. This wasn’t right; this wasn’t who
he was supposed to be with.
This was accompanied by a deep, guttural roar from the Pit. John’s head whipped
around and his eyes met immediately with Bane’s. He looked furious. His
opponent was limp and unconscious at his feet, but it looked as though Bane
didn’t even register that he was there. His eyes were locked on John and John
only.
Bane let out a heated snarl and lunged in their direction. He was able to reach
the edge of the Pit before he was taken down by 3 guards with tranquilizer
guns, each firing a shot at him from different angles. His eyes went cloudy and
then he was down with a thud.
Ra’s was distracted enough by this that he forgot about John entirely. He
watched Bane’s limp body drag out of the arena with wonder, a childish gleam in
his eyes.
In the limo home, Ra’s pulled out his phone. “It’s a done deal. It will be the
perfect birthday present for Talia. She's always wanted one, and I only buy my
daughter the best. I don’t care how much he is—I want him now. Get me Bane.”
Chapter End Notes
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