A new version of an old story
Feb. 15th, 2009 05:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sethgrayWhat's this? Content? *gasp* This is a Smallville fanfiction I wrote quite awhile ago. It was originally going to be for a challenge on some community, but I never finished it in time. I came across it on my hard-drive today and I really liked the whimsical, dark-fairytale style of it. So, here it is. No reason to waste it, even if it's not my usual fare.
Title: Along Came a Luthor
Pairing: Lex/nameless OC, Clark
Status: Complete
Rating: Adult
Warnings: Bondage, D/S, etc
Word Count: 1612
Summary: "Will you walk into my parlor?" said the Spider to the Fly
Clark wasn’t gay. Oh sure, everyone says that at first, but with Clark it was true. He simply wasn’t. He’d never looked at guys in a sexual way, never fantasized when jerking off (the few times he’d worked up the courage), had never been ‘curious’ about what it was like. Clark was straight.
And then along came a Luthor.
It had been subtle at first, the web Lex had woven, a simple camaraderie between friends. Lex would ask him to visit the manor, the kind of house that actually had rooms called parlors. The kind of house with a winding stair and many curious things on the way.
Clark had gone to visit his friend, done whatever Lex had asked him. Lex upped the game at that point.
Foolery and friendship had given way to flattery and seduction. Looking back on it, Clark had been easy prey. Lex praised things about him few ever had, called him witty and wise. It was easy to pretend these were the kinds of things friends said to each other, and for a long while Clark had.
But then Lex became unabashed in his pursuit. He called Clark sweet and handsome, praised the brilliance of eyes, but still Clark had resisted. He was a naïve farm-boy, it’s true, but even Clark had heard of Lex’s thin, fine sheets and the many lost to them. Even he had heard of Lex’s little pantry and the good store he kept inside it.
One time, Lex had made a move, a move that Clark had resisted. He’d been pretty freaked out, but eventually he returned Lex’s call. Smooth words soothed Clark’s battered nerves, and he made arrangements to call his friend another day.
Even the strongest of will can only resist a Luthor for so long, and perhaps Clark could have held out longer. But he simply hadn’t wanted to. Lex taken him in the bed where he’d taken so many others, and the Clark that had gone to sleep upon it had never woken again.
A new version of an old story.
And so, Clark found himself thus, legs spread wide, ropes wrapping around his thighs, up around his shoulders to tightly fasten his hands together. A ball gag was strapped firmly around his head, and a bulbous butt-plug filled him up.
He was, of course, harder than a rock.
The happenings just beyond reach were not helping.
Lex was fucking a man on his bed. The very bed where Clark had first succumbed to Lex’s ministrations. Later sessions had been other places of course, but the bed would always hold a special place in Clark’s heart. It was a great beast of a monstrosity, its size beyond ‘king’ and somewhere into ‘emperor’, just large enough for a Luthor and his toy. Its famed, or infamous perhaps, sheets were a deep purple edged with a green of diamond radiance.
As with all of a Luthor’s possessions, the man he was fucking wasn’t bad to look at either. He was a large, well built, black haired man. A not-too-bright man who spoke with a slow drawl and had been wearing flannel when Lex had brought him in. Such significance was not lost on Clark.
The stranger was quite enjoying himself, despite the cuffs holding his hands above his head (because Lex just wouldn’t have it without a little bondage). His head was thrown back, little noises were issuing from his throat, and his erection never wavered.
Clark knew from experience that even if this was the stranger’s first time, Lex would keep him hard all the way through it.
This was a game they often played, he and Lex. Clark would perform some imaginary slight and Lex would lock him in the closet, go prowling for a trick, and proceed to fuck him right in front of Clark. The closet had a glass door, but it was made of some technologically advanced super-glass or something, so he could see out but the trick could not see in.
Lex, knew he was there, though. The exact spot, in fact. He was too much of a perfectionist for it to be any other way. So, all the while he was fucking the stranger, Lex would raise his head towards the closet and flash Clark his trademark, shit-eating grin.
Clark moaned, worming around trying to get as much friction on the plug in his ass as he can. He rubbed his filled hole against the floor, trying to find purchase for the plug so he could thrust properly onto it. The floor in the closet was carpet, though, so it wasn’t worth much. Lex knew that, too.
What Lex didn’t know was that Clark could rip out of his bonds with an exaggerated flex of his otherworldly muscles. But this was still the one secret that hung between them, so even if he had wanted to end the game he couldn’t have. To do so would reveal his powers to Lex, and Clark wasn’t quite ready for that yet.
Clark was well and truly caught in a trap partially of his own making. If he had simply told Lex the secrets he’d tried to weasel out of him since the day he’d saved his life, his interest in Clark would probably have waned. What interest was an oddity to a Luthor when its secret was discovered and it was no longer odd?
And perhaps that was why he didn’t tell Lex. Lex might not leave him, but why chance it? It was better this way. For all the unspoken words between them—and there were many—this secret could never be uttered. Clark adored his prison too much for that.
Head falling backwards, Clark closed his eyes and tried to block out the sounds coming from outside the closet. It lasted even a shorter time than usual. Almost as if an invisible force was wound around his body, Clark’s head titled forward. His eyes opened to behold the smorgasbord before him.
Slick and shiny with sweat, Lex’s body glowed in the soft light coming in through windows and the various electric appliances in the room. Not a lick of hair marred that perfect skin, not even in the pubic region. His body, though slender, was hard and muscled. Unlike Clark and the nameless stranger beneath him, Lex’s muscle was not the blocks of it built from hard work. His was the perfectly defined musculature of one who frequents the gym, and pays good money to look as good as possible. With Lex, as good as possible is damn near perfection.
He was quite the sight, every fiber of his immaculate anatomy straining as he thrust and pounded into the man beneath him. Clark just couldn’t look away the sight was too enticing. The sight of Lex’s long, slender cock rushing in and out of the tight hole beneath it damn near made Clark come. Always prepared, Lex had made sure to strap a cock-ring tight about Clark’s manhood in the case of just such an eventuality.
Lex chose just that moment to look up, and Clark swore that, even through the glass, their gaze connected. As if also sensing the connection, Lex picked up the pace. A long wail rose from the stranger as Lex undoubtedly slammed into his sweet spot again and again.
His own wail trapped behind the gag in his mouth, Clark wished desperately to feel Lex for himself. It was easy to imagine it was Clark on the receiving end of his lover’s punishing pace. He’d had Lex’s cock within him so many times it took no imagination at all to conjure the feeling again. His wrists had been bound more times than he could accurately count, so even that was not outside his imagining.
Spasming and screaming, the stranger came, his sperm a long white trail on his chest. But Lex was not yet done, and kept right on thrusting. His conquest just lay beneath him panting, no doubt trying to calm his fluttering heart beat.
Had it been Clark he was fucking, Lex would have come as well. But Lex did not come simultaneously with random strangers. He would come when he was good and ready, and not a moment before or after.
And this night, he chose not to come in the stranger at all. He pulled out, uncuffed him, and ordered him roughly to get out.
Huffing, the stranger donned his clothes and hastened out, knowing better than to stay unwanted in a Luthor’s demesne.
As Lex began walking toward the closet, Clark could barely contain his glee. But Lex didn’t open it, oh no. He stopped just on the other side of it. Very slowly, Lex stepped forward until his front was pressed against the glass, his head turned the side. He began rubbing himself up down the glass like an obscene parody of an activity every child did with the car windows.
But Lex was no child. He was a man, with a man’s equipment.
Pulling away until just the tip of his erection grazed the glass, Lex held that position for a moment. When he pulled away further a beady trail of precum connected his cock with the glass.
So much was written in Lex’s gaze at that moment. The desire he felt for Clark, the sorrow he held at the distance that would always be between them, anger at the way he couldn’t help but be, and so many more things that Clark just didn’t have the words for. Would never have the words for. He was just a simple country boy, or had been.
And then along came a Luthor.
Also, I think I may post up that J2 thing I was talking about forever ago. I haven't heard anything back from the person I sent it to, but oh well. If anyone is still interested, anyway.
Title: Along Came a Luthor
Pairing: Lex/nameless OC, Clark
Status: Complete
Rating: Adult
Warnings: Bondage, D/S, etc
Word Count: 1612
Summary: "Will you walk into my parlor?" said the Spider to the Fly
Clark wasn’t gay. Oh sure, everyone says that at first, but with Clark it was true. He simply wasn’t. He’d never looked at guys in a sexual way, never fantasized when jerking off (the few times he’d worked up the courage), had never been ‘curious’ about what it was like. Clark was straight.
And then along came a Luthor.
It had been subtle at first, the web Lex had woven, a simple camaraderie between friends. Lex would ask him to visit the manor, the kind of house that actually had rooms called parlors. The kind of house with a winding stair and many curious things on the way.
Clark had gone to visit his friend, done whatever Lex had asked him. Lex upped the game at that point.
Foolery and friendship had given way to flattery and seduction. Looking back on it, Clark had been easy prey. Lex praised things about him few ever had, called him witty and wise. It was easy to pretend these were the kinds of things friends said to each other, and for a long while Clark had.
But then Lex became unabashed in his pursuit. He called Clark sweet and handsome, praised the brilliance of eyes, but still Clark had resisted. He was a naïve farm-boy, it’s true, but even Clark had heard of Lex’s thin, fine sheets and the many lost to them. Even he had heard of Lex’s little pantry and the good store he kept inside it.
One time, Lex had made a move, a move that Clark had resisted. He’d been pretty freaked out, but eventually he returned Lex’s call. Smooth words soothed Clark’s battered nerves, and he made arrangements to call his friend another day.
Even the strongest of will can only resist a Luthor for so long, and perhaps Clark could have held out longer. But he simply hadn’t wanted to. Lex taken him in the bed where he’d taken so many others, and the Clark that had gone to sleep upon it had never woken again.
A new version of an old story.
And so, Clark found himself thus, legs spread wide, ropes wrapping around his thighs, up around his shoulders to tightly fasten his hands together. A ball gag was strapped firmly around his head, and a bulbous butt-plug filled him up.
He was, of course, harder than a rock.
The happenings just beyond reach were not helping.
Lex was fucking a man on his bed. The very bed where Clark had first succumbed to Lex’s ministrations. Later sessions had been other places of course, but the bed would always hold a special place in Clark’s heart. It was a great beast of a monstrosity, its size beyond ‘king’ and somewhere into ‘emperor’, just large enough for a Luthor and his toy. Its famed, or infamous perhaps, sheets were a deep purple edged with a green of diamond radiance.
As with all of a Luthor’s possessions, the man he was fucking wasn’t bad to look at either. He was a large, well built, black haired man. A not-too-bright man who spoke with a slow drawl and had been wearing flannel when Lex had brought him in. Such significance was not lost on Clark.
The stranger was quite enjoying himself, despite the cuffs holding his hands above his head (because Lex just wouldn’t have it without a little bondage). His head was thrown back, little noises were issuing from his throat, and his erection never wavered.
Clark knew from experience that even if this was the stranger’s first time, Lex would keep him hard all the way through it.
This was a game they often played, he and Lex. Clark would perform some imaginary slight and Lex would lock him in the closet, go prowling for a trick, and proceed to fuck him right in front of Clark. The closet had a glass door, but it was made of some technologically advanced super-glass or something, so he could see out but the trick could not see in.
Lex, knew he was there, though. The exact spot, in fact. He was too much of a perfectionist for it to be any other way. So, all the while he was fucking the stranger, Lex would raise his head towards the closet and flash Clark his trademark, shit-eating grin.
Clark moaned, worming around trying to get as much friction on the plug in his ass as he can. He rubbed his filled hole against the floor, trying to find purchase for the plug so he could thrust properly onto it. The floor in the closet was carpet, though, so it wasn’t worth much. Lex knew that, too.
What Lex didn’t know was that Clark could rip out of his bonds with an exaggerated flex of his otherworldly muscles. But this was still the one secret that hung between them, so even if he had wanted to end the game he couldn’t have. To do so would reveal his powers to Lex, and Clark wasn’t quite ready for that yet.
Clark was well and truly caught in a trap partially of his own making. If he had simply told Lex the secrets he’d tried to weasel out of him since the day he’d saved his life, his interest in Clark would probably have waned. What interest was an oddity to a Luthor when its secret was discovered and it was no longer odd?
And perhaps that was why he didn’t tell Lex. Lex might not leave him, but why chance it? It was better this way. For all the unspoken words between them—and there were many—this secret could never be uttered. Clark adored his prison too much for that.
Head falling backwards, Clark closed his eyes and tried to block out the sounds coming from outside the closet. It lasted even a shorter time than usual. Almost as if an invisible force was wound around his body, Clark’s head titled forward. His eyes opened to behold the smorgasbord before him.
Slick and shiny with sweat, Lex’s body glowed in the soft light coming in through windows and the various electric appliances in the room. Not a lick of hair marred that perfect skin, not even in the pubic region. His body, though slender, was hard and muscled. Unlike Clark and the nameless stranger beneath him, Lex’s muscle was not the blocks of it built from hard work. His was the perfectly defined musculature of one who frequents the gym, and pays good money to look as good as possible. With Lex, as good as possible is damn near perfection.
He was quite the sight, every fiber of his immaculate anatomy straining as he thrust and pounded into the man beneath him. Clark just couldn’t look away the sight was too enticing. The sight of Lex’s long, slender cock rushing in and out of the tight hole beneath it damn near made Clark come. Always prepared, Lex had made sure to strap a cock-ring tight about Clark’s manhood in the case of just such an eventuality.
Lex chose just that moment to look up, and Clark swore that, even through the glass, their gaze connected. As if also sensing the connection, Lex picked up the pace. A long wail rose from the stranger as Lex undoubtedly slammed into his sweet spot again and again.
His own wail trapped behind the gag in his mouth, Clark wished desperately to feel Lex for himself. It was easy to imagine it was Clark on the receiving end of his lover’s punishing pace. He’d had Lex’s cock within him so many times it took no imagination at all to conjure the feeling again. His wrists had been bound more times than he could accurately count, so even that was not outside his imagining.
Spasming and screaming, the stranger came, his sperm a long white trail on his chest. But Lex was not yet done, and kept right on thrusting. His conquest just lay beneath him panting, no doubt trying to calm his fluttering heart beat.
Had it been Clark he was fucking, Lex would have come as well. But Lex did not come simultaneously with random strangers. He would come when he was good and ready, and not a moment before or after.
And this night, he chose not to come in the stranger at all. He pulled out, uncuffed him, and ordered him roughly to get out.
Huffing, the stranger donned his clothes and hastened out, knowing better than to stay unwanted in a Luthor’s demesne.
As Lex began walking toward the closet, Clark could barely contain his glee. But Lex didn’t open it, oh no. He stopped just on the other side of it. Very slowly, Lex stepped forward until his front was pressed against the glass, his head turned the side. He began rubbing himself up down the glass like an obscene parody of an activity every child did with the car windows.
But Lex was no child. He was a man, with a man’s equipment.
Pulling away until just the tip of his erection grazed the glass, Lex held that position for a moment. When he pulled away further a beady trail of precum connected his cock with the glass.
So much was written in Lex’s gaze at that moment. The desire he felt for Clark, the sorrow he held at the distance that would always be between them, anger at the way he couldn’t help but be, and so many more things that Clark just didn’t have the words for. Would never have the words for. He was just a simple country boy, or had been.
And then along came a Luthor.
Also, I think I may post up that J2 thing I was talking about forever ago. I haven't heard anything back from the person I sent it to, but oh well. If anyone is still interested, anyway.
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