A Caged Bird

by lovelysim (ao3)

Patrolling for Dick, at this point in his life, comes as naturally to him as eating his favorite foods or using the tower's training room. This particular night, he decided to head out to start earlier than usual. The evening sky gave him just enough darkness to blend into the shadows as per usual and nip any bank robbery, mugging, or graffiti tagging in the ass before it could even start. The first hours of the night went smoothly. After taking a snack break, Dick stumbled across an operation based in one of Gotham's many run-down warehouses by the docks. Upon getting there, the sheer amount of security was enough to overwhelm even as much of a seasoned hero as Dick, leading to him getting swiftly conked over the head by one of the henchmen that managed to sneak behind him unnoticed whilst he was in the middle of fending off two coming head-on with their guns drawn.

~~~~~~~~ 

Coming to, the first thing Dick notices is how little he's able to move. Judging by how hard the floors are, coupled with the dim fluorescent lights overhead that barely give Dick enough light to see ahead of him, he deduces he's in the same warehouse the gang is operating in. He was moved a few floors up or down, at most. Once his surroundings are properly gauged, Dick next notices how little he's able to move along with how much his whole body is aching. He looks down and sees the stained, concrete floor is only about a foot away from his face. His eyes adjusting to the next-to-no lighting shows Dick to be fully encased in a black latex bodysuit from the base of his neck and down. The lighting reflects off of the glossy black suit and makes it shine like a beacon in the run-down space. 

Dick's head is left exposed. He jerks his head to the side to get a lock of hair out of his vision. Dick looks down at himself the best he can and sees the blue Nightwing emblem is on his chest, the same place it is on his actual hero suit. Upon trying to move, it quickly proves to be in vain as Dick clocks where the aching is coming from the most: his knees and elbows. His latex bodysuit has forced his hands to be balled up into fists and tucked in towards his chest. His calves are pulled back against the backs of his thighs. The general shape the latex material gives Dick in the position he's in has it looking like he's merely balancing on nubs instead of actual limbs. The dull ache he feels in his elbows and knees worsens as he wiggles the slightest bit which makes them press harder into the concrete floor. 

Dick is more confused than anything else after fully grasping the situation he's in. "What the hell is this?" he says under his breath, trying to look around the space to get a better grasp on his surroundings and spot any potential ways to escape. His new-and-improved outfit has him tightly held, though, and his wiggling only shows off the contours of his body clad in the latex. The material squeaks and shows off his defined abs, bulging biceps, muscular back, and iconic ass, the two globes of muscle aimed up towards the sky. A zipper runs from the top of Dick's asscrack and stops at the base of his taint right where his balls are. 

The two masked men watching Dick's pathetic struggling wait a bit longer to make themselves known. One is directly behind him while the other is off to the side. The one stood behind Dick, a 6"2 black guy, takes a step forward which echoes. Dick immediately freezes up at the sound. He looks out into the near-darkness of the warehouse and readies himself to speak when the masked man's voice interrupts him. 

"Nice little show, birdie. I think we should join, ya know?" The anonymous black man says, his voice dripping with menace despite how smooth it is. Dick swallows and tries his best to look back at the man. "Who the hell are you? Are you the one that put me in this damn thing? 

"Nope! I am!" the other henchman pipes up, stepping into the light from beside Dick to make himself known. Dick looks over at him, the masked white guy's 5"10 frame no more than 120 lbs soaking wet. Both men are in simple long-sleeve turtlenecks, cargo pants, and combat boots. The ski masks they're both wearing only leave their matching green eyes exposed. "Holy shit! I really can't believe it's you. I thought Z was bullshitting me when he said he'd nabbed you." 

The henchmen behind Dick snaps his fingers, looking to his comrade. "Really, Q?! Tell him my fucking social security number while you're at it." he snaps, jaw clenched. The man in question, "Q", shrugs but zips it nonetheless. 

Z focuses on the task at hand: Dick's ass. He gets on his knees behind Dick and immediately grips the tantalizing cheeks, the latex leaving just enough give for him to slap them around. Dick yelps at the first hit to them, that shock quickly shifting into annoyance as Z hones in on his ass, watching the cheeks ripple with a hunger that has him pitching a tent in his pants in no time. Dick rolls his eyes and looks straight ahead, face a mixture of stoicism and resignation. "My ass? Really? You wanted to play with my cheeks for a bit? You could've just stopped me on patrol and paid me enough if that's the case." 

Z chuckles and shakes his head. "No, I want something more." His cryptic words aren't too pondered on by Dick as his attention shifts to Q, the eager goon walking over to stand right in front of him. Q drops to his knees in front of Dick, his crotch eye-level with the hunky, bound hero. Dick looks up at him. Just the angle Q's looking at Dick's face from right now is enough to make him leak a little bit of precum into his boxers, the bulge in his pants even more severe than Z's. Q's zipper brushes the tip of Dick's nose. 

"Well. Hey there. Can I help you?" Dick asks with a tinge of sarcasm. Q bites his lip and just starts to undo his fly. With it fully undone, he fishes out his cock, the footlong monster that it is causing Dick to visibly widen his eyes as a reflex. The cut tip leaks a thick glob of precum as soon as it's exposed to the open air. "Fuck..." Dick whispers, a pit forming in his stomach at the size. Q taps his cock against Dick's face who still looks up at him with annoyance. Dick's squirming has lessed considerably, though his getup's fit is something he's not going to get used to any time soon. 

Wanting to move things along, Z grips the zipper between Dick's cheeks and starts to pull it down. Fully undone, his bare asscrack is exposed, a gust of wind rolling over it, causing Dick's eyes to widen. Q busies himself with smearing precum against Dick's jawline as he tries to look back at Z again. "H-Hey? What the hell are you doing back there?!" Dick yells, not liking the lecherous look in Z's eyes. 

Z undoes his zipper and pulls his fat, uncut cock through it. "About to take this iconic ass for a round, what else?" Z laughs and spits perfectly on Dick's hole who shivers in reaction. Q grips Dick's hair with both hands to keep him facing forward. 

"W-Wait, we can talk this thr-ghk!" Dick's bargaining gets interrupted by Q shoving the first few inches of his cock into Dick's mouth. Dick's words turn to a gargled mess as Q's hefty cock makes his lips stretch around it, Dick's cheeks hollowing on reflex. Q closes his eyes and moans, his fingers curling in Dick's hair to hold on tighter. 

"Mmph! Frmph!" Dicks muffled, raised voice is barely louder than the wet, slick sounds of Q's cock sliding back and forth in his mouth. His wiggling amps up as Z pops the tip into his ass, his warm hole causing the burly, muscular man to let out a deep breath in pleasure. Dick goes rigid for a split second. The uncomfortable sensation doesn't go away as Z rushes things and slides halfway into his hole. The girth of his cock takes Dick by surprise, his well-experienced hole used to nothing more than Kory's beginner-level strap-on up until now. 

Dick's struggling goes noticed by Z. "Ha! Look at the little birdie wiggle! Not so quipy now are ya, Nightbitch?" Z says while starting to thrust, his pace starting out firm and slow, his entire cock sliding into Dick's hole, pulling back to where just the tip is in, and then slamming back in fully. He does this over and over, causing Dick to rock back and forth in time with the thrusts. This makes him bob his head back and forth on Q's cock as consequence which only makes the eager henchman moan louder in pleasure. The measured, experienced thrusts of Z contrast Q's rapid ones. Dick can only guess Q is going to bust first. He's proven correct when Q thrusts in one final time, the tip of Dick's nose pressed against his pelvis, and shoots his hot load down Dick's throat. Dick lightly gags and sputters around Q's cock, some cum dripping down his chin and wetting his lips. 

When Q pulls out, Dick gasps for breath. "Shit! Not the usual fanservice I'd expect." he mutters, Q putting his cock away while Z continues to thrust away. An especially rough one has Dick let out a moan, making Z laugh again. Dick sucks in a breath and looks back at him, brows furrowed in anger. "Gettin' close yourself, stud? This getup I'm in is getting stuffy." Z growls and grits his teeth, his thrusts amping up and becoming a lot more firm. Dick winces at the increased pace, his asscheeks moving and wobbling like they have a mind of their own.

Q properly fixes himself and and steps away from Dick. "Have fun finishing him off, Z. I've got lookout shifts to do." 

Z doesn't answer, too focused on pounding Dick, his comrades footsteps fading away progressively. With the two alone now, only the sound of Z's hips hitting Dick's ass is left. Dick looks forward, the relentless thrusts getting him winded by now. That same lock of hair from before falls into Dick's face. "Mmph. Fuck. Shit. Damn it." Dick mutters under his breath with every thrust, the punishing pace still making him chubbed-up in his tight, the restrictive material making his cock ache a bit. 

"I'm about to bust, bitch. Get ready." Z's gruff tone brings Dick back from spacing out. He goes to open his mouth to talk but decides against it, ultimately deciding to save his breath on asking Z not to do it in him. Z thrusts in a final time. Dick sighs and closes his eyes, the warmth of Z's cum setting in his gut. Z thrusts a bit more to milk himself free of every drop into Dick's hole. When he finally pulls out, Dick's slightly-gaped hole clenches around nothing as Z's load slowly leaks out of it, wetting Dick's taint and the zipper of the latex suit. Z admires the sight for a second before zipping Dick back up. 

Dick collects himself and catches his breath as Z gets up to his feet and puts his cock away. He footsteps are slow as he makes his way around to where Dick can see him. "That's the only time you're gonna get that off on me. The other Titans will be here any minute." Dick says, a hint of anger in his voice. 

Z smirks, his arms crossed against his chest. "Then you'd better hope they get here before the boss stops by to take a crack at you." he says, Dick's face falling again at the realization. Z walks off then, leaving Dick to continue to squirm and silently pray that at least one of his teammates get curious about his whereabouts quick enough.