Chapter Text
As Dick Grayson stood before the class, hands behind his head, he wished he had never been adopted by Bruce Wayne. Every pair of eyes in the classroom was trained on the naked boy, and there was no reprieve from the wide-eyed stares of the class. As they ogled with cheshire grins, Dick found no reprieve from the teacher, who had gotten him into this position in the first place.
“Richard John Grayson.” Mrs Whyte, Dick’s English teacher, stood in front of his desk. “I have reports from many members of this class that several items have gone missing. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
Dick was confused. “What?”
“Feigning ignorance, are we?”
“No ma'am, I’m not!” Dick replied. “But why are you asking me?”
Whyte stared at him like he was dumb as rocks. “Well, you’re the prime suspect.”
“How am I the prime suspect?” Dick was shocked. He had a completely clean record! How could Whyte think that–
No.
It couldn’t be.
Whyte couldn’t possibly think–––
“You people steal all the time.”
Dick was incensed. “My people?!”
“Open your bag.”
“No!” Dick was boiling. “You can’t insult my culture like that!”
“The more you say the guiltier you seem.”
“Don’t you touch my bag!” Dick shouted.
“I am searching it for the stolen items. If you don’t let me search your bag, I will take it as evidence of your guilt.” She made a motion for Dick’s schoolbag.
Before he could react, Dick had pushed Mrs Whyte.
“I’m sorry Mrs Whyte I panicked and I–”
“Silence. You will do as I say, and perhaps your adopted father won’t hear about this.”
Dick gulped. He couldn’t let Bruce know he hit a teacher. Then he would be fired from Robin. Then he would be kicked out. Then he would go to juvie and probably get shanked.
“I understand.”
“You will remove all your clothes for a total body search, in addition to your bag.”
Silence filled the classroom.
“I’m sorry?” Dick was stunned.
“You heard me.”
“Mrs Whyte, are you sure this is okay?” Dick thanked the gods. His fellow classmates would save him.
“Yes, Violet. This little thief probably is hiding something. Now Richard. Come to the front of the class. Billy, search his bag.”
Dick’s small arm was caught in Mrs Whyte’s vice grip as he let himself be dragged to the front. He was completely, utterly powerless. He didn’t have his parents. He didn’t have Alfred. He didn’t have Bruce. He was alone, nothing but a small quivering child. He was nothing like a Flying Grayson. He was completely helpless to the power of his teacher. At least he was allowed to face the whiteboard.
“Remove your shoes.”
Dick tried to focus on his breath. He undid the laces on his left shoe. Breathe. Then he removed the shoe and placed it in front of him. Breathe. Then the right side’s laces. Breathe. Then the shoe. Breathe.
Mrs Whyte picked up the shoes and set them down on a table. “These will have to be searched. Michael, are you sure you want to do it? It might stink, knowing his people.” That got a chortle out of the classroom as Dick’s ears burned.
“Now Richard.” Whyte said as the laughing died down. “Please remove your socks and hand them over.”
Dick slowly peeled off his right sock, then his left. Placing them neatly together, he handed them into Mrs Whyte’s outstretched hand. He trembled as his foot landed on the cold floor of the classroom, wriggling as they adjusted to being bare.
“Please remove all your clothing.” Mrs Whyte’s voice was laced with venom, malice dripping from every syllable.
Dick slowly pulled his arms out from the t-shirt of the Bristol Academy junior uniform. He breathed shakily before lifting the t-shirt off his head and dropping it in front of him. He felt a chorus of eyes scanning his back, lithe and muscular from a life training as an acrobat. He knew that his skin color made him stand out in the pasty-white classroom of his peers. They stared at his darker skin that marked him as one of the Romani with rapt attention. Finally the shirt fell to the floor. His back now exposed to the cold air caused a shiver as he wrapped his arms around himself.
“C’mon, get a move on!” A voice shouted from behind Dick.
“I agree,” Mrs Whyte was clearly ogling him. “Please hurry up and remove your trousers.”
Dick felt a tear fall. She would not let him escape this. “Please Mrs Whyte, I’ve learned my lesson, please don’t make me–”
“Silence. Remove them, or they will be removed from you.”
Shakily, Dick, undid the button on his pants, and slowly zipped down the fly. All the while, his tears grew into a cascade, a sob escaping from his lips. His pants slid down his ankles as the boy in the tightie-whities let out shaking sobs. Grins and giggles emerged from the crowd of students, pointing and laughing at the humiliated boy.
“I said all, Richard. Your crocodile tears will get you nowhere.”
And the last piece of cloth protecting his dignity slid down his ankles too.
Dick stood buck naked, showing his bare butt to everyone in his class. As he stepped out of his clothing, tears streaks travelled down his face, dripping onto his chest. So as Mrs Whyte removed the rest of the clothing and gave it to the class to search, Dick could do nothing but cry and cry.
“Put your hands behind your head and turn around.”
Dick turned, he at last met Mrs Whyte’s gaze, eye to tear-soaked eye. Her look was one of glee. She had done so without laying a finger on him. She had defeated Robin without any gadgets or tools, traps or machines, costumes or goons. Dick was powerless, and he certainly wasn’t the Boy Wonder. So as Dick’s gaze moved to the front of the class, he let out a heaving sob, for he was nothing.
I wish I never was adopted by Bruce Wayne.
But unfortunately, Dick was.
“Please,” Dick whispered. “Let me have my clothes back.”
“Oh,” a wolf-like grin spread across Mrs Whyte’s face. “But we aren’t done searching. Could you be hiding them… inside?” She grabbed a fistful of Dick’s ass, as Dick whimpered at the touch.
With the snap of a latex glove, Dick knew what was coming next. It sucked ass in juvie, and it was going to be hell in front of 20 kids watching him get fingered. The cold latex made Dick jump as it brushed the rim of his hole. Dick’s chest was wet with streaks of tears. The finger made several circles around his rim, as if admiring how pretty his hole was.
“I heard you went to jail.” Mrs Whyte said. “In that case you’ll be used to things up there.”
Dick protested. “No Mrs Whyte, I ah-!” A moan left his lips as the finger breached the rim. She grabbed one cheek, pulling it outwards to widen Dick’s hole. The foreign invader explored Dick’s insides, as Dick burst into open sobs. Distantly, he could hear the laughter of the students behind him, and the unmistakable click of a photo being taken.
“Now now, children. There will be plenty of time for photos with Mr. Grayson afterwards.” Mrs Whyte stated, as if her finger wasn’t inside Dick. Dick shamefully felt his cock start to harden, as his hole was explored.
WHAP! Dick’s ass cheek stung with a slap from Mrs Whyte’s free hand. “Stop fidgeting!”
“Mrs Whyte, did you find anything?” a girl asked.
“No. But rest assured, we’ll find your things. Mr Grayson, please stand up.”
Dick didn’t listen. He couldn’t even hear her over his sobbing.
“Fine,” Mrs Whyte said. “If you want to be difficult.”
And she put two fingers into his mouth.
The sudden intrusion caused Dick to cough. As they felt around his mouth, he gagged. And when they pushed further down his throat, he nearly retched.
The intrusion left as quickly as it came. “Congratulations, Mr. Grayson, you’re clean. I do hope this has taught you a lesson in obedience. Now, assume the position, and your disobedience will not go on your record.”
Dick numbly got up from the floor. He spread his feet apart, so his cock was visible to all, and he put his hands behind his head. The class surged forward, eager to take a picture with the last Flying Grayson. Hands touched his belly, his chest, his cock, his ass. The snapping of photos was continuous. Wide-toothed smiles contrasted the sobbing face of the boy in the middle, still sobbing because he was nothing.
Nothing.