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You can’t remember how it started, when it changed. Because it wasn’t always like this— there was a time when your relationship, your role, was something closer to normal. Bruce had courted you publicly, openly, sweetly, with all the noble gentlemanliness that was often associated with old money types like him. You’d been seeing him half a year before he even mentioned the idea of bringing you home to meet his kids.
And his family was… wonderful. So diverse in personalities and full of life and laughter. They had their faults, how could they not? They fought, and hurt each other on their worst days. But on their best days? They were brothers in arms until the very last, until the bitter end. And you? You’d always wanted to be a part of something like that. To have a family that supported each other like that.
So when Dick first came into Bruce’s bedroom one night, pleading for company after having woken from a nightmare, you didn’t have the heart to tell him no. You wondered what Bruce would think, if he knew his eldest was curling up beside us fiancée, warming her in his extended absence overseas, pressing his growing erection against her. Dick fell fast asleep, and nothing more happened that night, but your racing heartbeat kept you wide awake. It was wrong, you knew. Inappropriate. And yet? It excited you…
The memory of that night plagued you, but you never mentioned it to Bruce— to anyone. Dick kept it to himself too, so it seemed, but often... too often… his eyes would catch yours with a look of knowing, and your pulse would quicken and your breath would catch all over again, like a kid being caught breaking the rules.
Jason was a rare guest in the manor, but when he was around Bruce lit up like a Christmas tree. If was barely there, barely noticeable to anyone who didn’t really know him, anyone but you. But you too began to associate this holiday-like glee with Jason’s presence at home. Maybe that’s why you weren’t phased when he appeared unannounced and unexpected in the manor’s kitchen while the others plugged away on a new case downstairs in the cave. Maybe that’s why you didn’t really become aware of his increasing proximity until he’d pinned you between the counter and his massive body. Maybe that’s why it didn’t register what he was doing until he was pressing his clothed hard-on against your ass with rhythmic precision.
That feeling again… from when you’d shared your bed with Dick… that sense of petrifaction… Only this time your words didn’t escape you.
“Jason, what are you doing?!” You’d whispered with bite. Were you afraid someone would hear? Or that they’d see?
Were you afraid he’d stop if you reacted too strongly?
“Fuck,” he grunted out, “nothin,’ Ma, don’ worry ‘bout it. Jus-“ he hissed out “jus’ keep doing whatcha doing…”
You weren’t sure what to feel in that moment. Somewhere between panic and terror, electric heat had begun to spread between your thighs, and a misplaced swell of pride had grown in your chest.
Jason called you Ma.
“Jay, honey, what if your dad sees? You really shouldn’t do this..?”
“Let ‘im fuckin’ see, who gives a shit?” Jason retorted, hands gripping your hips even harder as he drove himself against you. “Fuck, jus’ need to come, Ma. Nothin’ wrong with that.”
So you stood there, helplessly, hands gripping the counter as he moved and used you like an object, listening with increasing anxiety as his grunts and groans grew in intensity and volume.
“Jason-!” You shushed him. “Someone’s gonna hear you!”
He let out a dismissive sound that sounded too close to a laugh for the severity of this situation. And, moments after that, his thrusting became erratic as he all but crushed you against him.
“Shit, Mama, yesss.”
And then there was stillness, quiet interrupted only by the sounds of your combined panting. Jason took a moment to collect himself, before placing a chaste kiss to your temple and excusing himself upstairs to shower and change. You stood pressed against the counter, mortified, for what felt like hours after.
“Could you do me a favor?” Tim asked you one evening weeks later, when you were winding down in the living room after a long day of wedding preparations.
“Sure, Tim, whaddya need?”
He crossed the room silently to stand in front of you, looking down where you were on the couch with a mischievous glint in his eye. Before his name could leave your lips again, he was undoing his belt, never breaking eye contact,
Alarms went off in your mind.
“Tim!” You snapped, looking frantically around the room, “what the hell are you doing?!”
“Relax,” he said dismissively, lengthy and leaking cock know firmly in one hand as the other curled into your hair and pulled you toward him. Did you open your mouth voluntarily? You can’t remember. You think you were going to protest. You must have been about to say something. And he was fast, he took advantage. That’s what you tell yourself, even as you let your lips close around him.
His head tilts back in pleasure.
“Damn you have a good mouth..” he drawls out, hand guiding you along his length as obscene sounds leave your throat and echo around the too quiet room. “Should’ve done this sooner.”
And it continues like that until you jaw is aching and mascara stained tears are running down your cheeks. He keeps making you gag on him, using your mouth like a fleshlight. You’re trying to plead with him, get him to stop, get him to let you take a break at least, but with your mouth full your sounds come out as pathetic moaning.
Tim chuckles as length, a breathy sound.
“He did good with you…” He says vaguely. “Picked a good one to lock down for us.”
Confusion is added to the jumbled group of emotions displayed on your red and puffy face. Your hands go to his thighs, desperate to gain any kind of control over this situation. He thrusts harder at that.
“Fuck, yeah, put your hands on me…”
You want it to end, you reason with yourself, you need it to end, because you can’t control him when he’s like this. That’s what you tell yourself anyways as you begin to use your left hand (still adorned with Bruce’s expensive and beautiful engagement ring) to fondle his balls. Tim loses it. The hand in your hair crushes you against him, and he buries himself down your throat to pump rope after rope of come into you with a choked curse.
He laughs when he’s done, boyishly, as he puts you back together and cleans you up before sitting down on the couch next to you with an arm draped affectionately across your shoulder.
“So,” he starts casually, as if you didn’t smell like sex because of him, “whatcha want to watch?”
That had to be the last straw, you told yourself. You knew Bruce had to know, had to intervene before one of them took things too far.
As if they hadn’t already.
“They really like you,” Bruce says when you mention the boys, his boys, “I mean, everyone does but.. Dick and Jason and Tim… they’re my boys. My sons. They mean the world to me. And it makes me so happy that they like you and that you take care of them.”
And good God he means that, so much, and suddenly you aren’t sure what to do…
“Bruce, something’s been… happening… I… I should have told you earlier. I just… I didn’t know.. I didn’t want…”
You can’t complete the sentence, his look of genuine love and concern is gut-wrenching in this moment.
“Sweetheart, talk to me,” Bruce implores,” what’s going on?”
You take a shaky breath for courage. And then the dam breaks. You tell him everything. Everything. From that first time with Dick to just yesterday with Tim and every questionable comment, look, touch in between. And when it’s all out there, free and unable to be taken back there’s a moment of silence. And then… Bruce laughs. Not in mockery, you register immediately, but you can’t tell what it is? Disbelief? Anger?
“Oh, sweetheart,” he says with mirth, “I’m so sorry, I thought Dick explained things to you that night I was away…”
Explained things?
You just stare at him in disbelief.
“Sweetheart, it’s part of the gig— part of being my wife. You have a responsibility here too. Not to do anything you’re uncomfortable with, but take care of me… and my boys. I’m sorry, I thought you knew that.”
Words escape you. The whole time… Bruce knew? Not even that he knew… that he expected it? Accepted it? Encouraged it?
“We work so hard… and my boys, well.. they need an outlet, you understand? In order to do what they need to do for Gotham. See, that’s your part in all this. We take care of the city… and you take care of us…”
“Oh.” You let out stupidly. His face is worried again.
“If… if you aren’t okay with that, I’ll understand. I’m sorry, I should have made sure you knew sooner… much sooner. I just.. the boys said things were going so well that I.. I just assumed you did.”
“If I don’t want to… hypothetically.” You raise the thought cautiously and Bruce’s shoulder tense up,
“Then we would need to call off the wedding.” He says, matter of factly, though it clearly makes him upset to even contemplate it. “I love you, angel, I love you so much. But I have to take care of them first. It’s not just about what I want. I’m a father, you understand?”
You nod slowly, deep in thought. You think back to each of the times and try to reframe it, now that you knew everything had been above board… what did you really think? What did you really feel? You close your eyes and clench your thighs together, searching for friction as the memories flood you.
“If it’s what they need… if it’s what you need… then I’ll give it to you, Bruce. Happily.” You vow to him. He smiles.
And then suddenly he’s upon you, tackling you playfully into the cushions of the couch and kissing you with love and fire and joy. You’re both giggling into the kiss.
“I love you,” he tells you, “You’re perfect. Perfect for me. Perfect for them. I couldn’t have asked for a better woman to make my wife.”
And that night is spent in firelight as he took you over and over again.
This was your role in all of this. Your duty. Your calling. You could give him this. Give all of them this. It was so easy to do… and they made you feel so good, so safe. So soon, nights like this became commonplace.
You’d be waiting there in the cave for them when they returned, already naked, already waiting. And they’d use you until they’d had their fill.
Tonight it’s just the boys… Bruce is working in the distance, giving occasional words of approval or checking one of the boys if they’d been too rough with you. After all, you were still his, first and foremost.
“You hurt my wife, you’re benched for a week.” He snaps shortly. And their paces let up immediately in response.
You’re so blissed out you can’t really even register pain at this point. Dick is in your mouth, rutting shallowly and whining in his pretty little way. You love how your sweetest boy moans for you.
“Mom..” he all but cries, tilting his head back in reverance “Mom it’s so good…”
You release him with a pop to stroke him languidly, offering words of encouragement.
“I know, Dickie-baby, I know.” You coo.
Jason and Tim are inside you… and God you’re cock drunk on the feeling. Jason’s in your warm, wet pussy, standing in the edge of the observation table they’ve pinned you to, hips snapping harshly into your welcoming cunt.
“Jay-baby,” you call to him, “Easy, honey, please.”
“‘M sorry, Ma,” he says, and he means it, as he lets up and begins rubbing circles on your swollen clit.
Tim is in your tight ass, thrusting short and quick and grunting right into your ear.
“‘M gonna come soon,” he whispers. You moan.
“That’s okay, baby,” you assure him between licks of your oldest’s cock. “You can come inside mommy.”
And he whines. They all do, really, hips increasing their pace again or finding their way back inside your delicious mouth. You hear Bruce chuckle contentedly before he stands to cross the room over to you. One hand goes to your bare chest to play with and tease your nipples, and the other pets your sweat dampened hair.
“You’re doing so good, baby. Look at you.” He says, with nothing but the purest adoration in his eyes. “My wife and my boys.”
Tim comes undone at that.
“Fuck! Shit! ‘M cumming!” He curses and stills inside you.
“Fucking finally.” Dick says, playful and sarcastic. Tim gingerly pulls out of you only for Jason to pull you up into an embrace as he continued to bounce you on his length,
“Jason.” Bruce warns. “Share.”
An irritated sound leaves his lips, but he doesn’t protest when Dick lines himself up behind, the stretch and slick leftover from Tim presence making the intrusion easy and deliciously smooth. You go limp in their arms as they move you along their lengths. Jason was girth, that’s why he almost never used your ass. Bruce was concerned you wouldn’t be able to take him. Dick was length, longer than Tim and a little thicker too, stretching you out even more now and reaching even deeper inside you.
“Fuck!” You cry out in ecstasy. “Dick..! Jay..! Oh please don’t stop!”
“Wasn’t plannin’ on it, Ma,” Jay drawls out before capturing your lips in a searing kiss.
“Feels so good…” Dick chants out like a prayer. “So good. You’re so good to us, Mom”
Bruce and Tim voice their agreement and you flush under their combined praise. Your oldest reaches around to rub fast circles on your clit, making you clench hard around both of the men inside you. You break you kiss with Jason and toss your head back against Dick’s shoulder, only for him to pull you into another kiss. Dick’s kisses were sloppy, messy, full of tongue and whining.
“Fuck she’s so hot like this…” Jason says to Bruce, eyes fixed in his older brother and his pseudo-moms passionate embrace. “Bruce.. where the fuck did you find this woman?”
The older man chuckles.
“She’s an angel. She found us.”
Your husband comes closer, talking you through it.
“Your so beautiful, baby. Such a good mama… such a good whore. You’re gonna take my boys’ come, right? You’re gonna be a good girl?”
The sound of your husbands voice pulls you from Dick’s lips. You nod at him, eyes blown wide.
“Yes baby,” you promise him, “I’m gonna make our boys feel good, I promise.”
Both of the men inside you groan loudly in approval. Jason begins bouncing you faster, more incessantly.
“I’m gonna cum.” He warns. “‘M gonna come, Ma”
“Me too,” Dick whines, “You feel too good.”
You smile, head leaned back against Dicks shoulder and a free hand caressing your darling Jason’s face.
“Come for me, boys,” you encourage gentle, “Come for mommy.”
And they obey, your good boys. How could they not when you’d told them so sweetly? Jason is all curses and grunts when he comes, filling you up with the most animalistic sounds. Dick cries out for you, expressing his gratitude and vowing his love for you.
“So fuckin’ good, Ma”
“Thank you, mommy! Thank you!”
“Filling you up- shit!”
“Feels so good, fuck! I love you!”
And when their highs are over, it’s your husband who’s arms wrap around your spent and sore body.
“There’s my girl,” he says affectionately. “They didn’t make you come did they?”
“No,” you admit, “but s’okay. I don’t need to.”
“It’s not okay.” Bruce says, laying you down again on that observation table and taking his rightful place between your thighs.
“All of you… get over here and take care of your poor mother.”
They obey. And suddenly all six of their hands are upon you while Bruce’s hold your thighs apart and he begins driving himself inside you.
“My perfect wife. My angel. Feels so good inside you. So good with my boys’ come making you so nice and wet and ready for me.”
It’s filth and you love it. Bruce is bigger than all of them, and you suspect this is why he usually lets them have you first. Jason and Tim have a breast each in their mouth, sucking and lapping and teasing to their hearts content. Dick is reaching down your stomach to rub your clit again, and this time you finally, finally feel like you’re going to get to come.
“Bruce!” You cry out, but it’s really not just him, and you know it. Your hands tangle in Jason and Tim’s hair, and your eyes are on Dick who watches you with loving adoration.
“You’re so pretty, mom.” He tells you sweetly. You whine.
“Jason, Tim, hold back her legs for me.” Bruce commands. They do, never breaking their attention from your oversensitive breasts.
Your husband’s hands move to your hips, using them as leverage to fuck you with brutal force. This was what he needed, after a long and grueling night out in Gotham city. He needed to see his boys taken care of.. and then he needed to let every last remaining bit of anger out on his poor, willing wife. And you were just gone at this point. The debauchery of your sons holding you in place for their father to use, pleasuring you with their mouths, their hands… the coil inside you was threatening to snap.
“I’m- I’m gonna come!” You tell them.
And then they’re all encouraging you.
“Fuck, you’re so hot when you’re close, Ma.”
“That’s it Mama, let go. We’ve got you.”
“Jus’ wanna make you feel good, Mom.”
“Come for us, angel.” Bruce tells you. And you’re undone.
“Fuck!” You cry out, and are greeted with sounds of their joint approval. They cheer you on as you clench around Bruce’s length, leaking your sons’ come onto the metal table.
Bruce is right there with you, nothing gets him off faster than the sight and sound of you coming around him.
“Yes, baby, just like that… Ohhh just like that…”
And then everything is still and the only sound in the room is the collective panting.
“I see everyone made it back in one piece,” comes Alfred’s familiar voice from behind the scandalous scene. You crane your head to see him approaching, loosening his tie. “I don’t suppose Mrs. Wayne would be opposed to one more round?”