Control
by Nymph Du Pave

"I'm very, very sorry, Clark.  I mean it."

"I know I said that I forgave you and all but I didn't realize to what extent you were having me investigated, Lex."

I took another sip of the iced tea and thumbed the flowery design painted on the thin glass.  I refused to look at Clark, sweaty from farmwork I interrupted mere minutes ago.

"I know," I started, thankful that Jon was out in the fields and Martha had to drop by the Ross's with flowers and produce.  "When I told you, I didn't think that you really…  That you really got the picture."

He sighed.  "Look at me, Lex."

I couldn’t.  The marigolds were fascinating, looped around and inside of the rose bush.

His forefinger and thumb clasped my chin and pulled my eyes to meet his.  "Is this everything?"

No hesitation for hesitation is the obvious sign of deception.

I hesitated.

"Lex."

"As far as the investigation into you goes, yes."

"What do you mean?"

I tried to pull my eyes away, but couldn't, and- learning from past experience- if I couldn't look away, I couldn't outright lie.  "It's nothing to do directly with you."

"Directly with-  You mean you're investigating my parents."  His hand dropped and balled up into a fist and suddenly I wondered if I had gone to far with the admissions.  What was it about Clark Kent that made me such a fucking moron?

"Lex, what are you-"

I held up my hand, not wishing to repeat the head bashing incident in my study a few weeks earlier.  The scariest, loneliest moment of my life.  When I thought I'd lost a friend I never thought I'd find. Not again, not again, kept running through my head as I was thinking of both my mother and Clark.  Lost to me.

I wouldn't allow it, I wouldn't lose him.  But first I had to worry about calming him down.  This time he was not protecting me from a flower-high Peter Ross.  This time the anger was real.

"I was just curious as to how far in debt they were and why."  His glare wasn't reducing.  I took a deep breath.  "I thought maybe they were getting screwed over by one of their previous loaners.  And they are."

His face shifted, anger melting.

"I was going to send the information anonymously because they'd never believe me.  Or, at least, if they did, they'd be pissed that I was prying."

Clark's face fell and he sagged against a kitchen table.  "I'm so sorry, Lex."

I frowned, trying to keep my attention on him and not his strong arms, muscles flexing as he clenched and unclenched the wooden dinning chair.  "About what?"

"About…  About not trusting you.  About not trusting everything you've ever told me."

That brought up Hamilton and the flower, something I was debating telling him.  Was now the best time?

I copped out.  "It's a survival instinct most people have against Luthors.  Don't worry about it.  I don't take it personally."

It was the truth.  I couldn't take it personally from Clark.  He was more than I deserved.

He was silent, standing sideways, still leaning on the chair.  His curvy ass was outlined perfectly by jeans that were just a bit too tight and worn, proof that his parents could not afford to keep him in clothes that fit properly.  The ends were tucked into his workboots and were no doubt too high on his ankles.

I took a sip of the ice tea, melting in the hot summer temperatures.  There was something about thinking of Clark Kent's ankles that…

I didn't have enough goddamn ice.

"It shouldn't be that way, Lex," he growled and turned to me.  He grabbed my arms and I thought at first it was going to be fierce.  The way he looked... the anger in his eyes...

Instead it was gentle, with his thumbs lightly caressing my collarbone.  It took me a moment, but I realized the anger wasn't anger at all.

It was fire.

I swallowed.  "Clark," I breathed.

His lips met mine with a slight brush and I trembled.  The glass of ice tea fell from my hands and shattered on the hard wooden floor.

"Shit, I-"

"Shush."  He pushed me up against one of the columns separating the kitchen from the dining room.  I felt his thumbs on my collarbone pressing down lightly.  "Lex."

Not a question, but a demand that I answer.  As a Luthor I should have been disgusted, but I wasn't.  I was thrilled.

"Yes?" I whispered, ardent and hot.  I closed my eyes.

"Do you want me?"

A slight shiver and several quick pants were my only responses, but I think he got the picture.

"Lex?"

"Mmm-hmmm?" I managed.  I wasn't too sure if verbal communication was possible.

He leaned into my ear and licked it once.  Pressing his face up against mine, he breathed heavily then whispered his question.

"Have you ever been fucked?"

"God!" I gasped into his midnight-silk hair.  My knees gave out but I didn't fall.  His hands were still holding me up.

"Have you?"

I whimpered, feeling my cock stiffening.  It was painful and fast.

"Have you ever been fucked, Lex?"  This time it was a demand and I decided from now on, I would only answer to such.

"Maybe."

Make me tell you, I thought. Make me want you.

His right hand left my shoulder and lightly encircled my neck.  I recognized the size and power as well as the implications.

His left hand was traveling down my abs, quivering from his touch, to my belt.  I panted again as his fingers, deft for such clumsy looking giants, undid my belt.  They slipped in and dived down.  I thrust up with a keen in my throat but he removed his hand.  On it's way out, he tugged a few hairs from my crotch.

I hissed and opened my eyes, meeting his darkening ones.  I couldn't take the superiority there and shut them again.  We both were familiar with our roles, and mine was to stay still and accept.

His was to try and make me not obey.  Probably so that he could punish me.

I had no idea he knew this game.  "I thought you were hairless all over."  His hand traveled up my stomach where there was also hair.  "Learn new things every day."

Yes you do.

"The meteor sho-"

"Did I say speak?" he growled and pushed me against the column even harder.  "You didn't answer my other question, Lex."

"Being fucked?"

"That's right."

I was silent.  Just to see what he would do.  I was starting to come down off my cloud.

He didn't disappoint me.

"Not gonna answer me, huh?" he whispered, then spun me around, jerking my pants and boxers down around my ankles.  His finger teased the inside of the cleft in my ass.  "It's gonna really hurt if it's the first time, Lex."

I snorted.  "You think you're the first to try and tame Lex Luthor?" I asked gruffly.  "Please, Kent.  You wouldn't know what to do with this ass if I gave you permission to fuck it all the way to China."

His dry finger pushed up past the muscular ring and inside of me.  I bit back a yelp.

"Who said I'm asking for permission from you?"

I breathed in just as his finger left me.  There was a slight breeze and I stood waiting for him to say something.  Anything.  Or to feel something.

I had the distinct feeling that he was gone but as I turned he was there, along with another slight breeze and…

A bottle of lotion.

"Clark," I started, amused and curious.  "Where'd you-"

"Shut up," he said grabbing my arm and yanking me behind him.

The humiliation was as grand as I've ever experienced.  My thousand dollar pants and hundred dollar underwear around my ankles- twenty dollar socks and six-hundred and fifty-two dollar shoes- my cock straining and a flushed color I have never seen it get, and me almost tripping to keep up with Clark tugging on me.

He pulled us into the laundry room and shut the door.  There were beams of light from the cracks in the door and I could feel it illuminating me.  I just couldn't see him.

"I'm going to fuck you raw, Lex."  I felt his hands clasp my waist and push me away from him, up against the washer.  "I'm going to make it so that you can't walk."

I wasn't even going to bother trying to stop the trembles.

"But first-"  He flipped on the light before I could ready myself and I shut my eyes tight.  He waited patiently until I opened them again, meeting his.

"I want you down on your knees."

God.

I looked into his eyes as I lowered myself to the gritty, cracked linoleum floor, never breaking contact, even as his hands came down to his jeans and the sound of a zipper being undone- cold and mechanical- filled the air.

He pulled out his cock and it was everything I had not to pull my gaze from his and gasp.

It was thick.

And long.

Easily the biggest I'd seen.  Coming from me with my many years of experience- since I was thirteen- that's saying a lot.

"Go ahead," he whispered, thrusting it lightly towards me.

I didn't move.

"Lex," he growled.  "Take me in your mouth."  He pressed the head against my mouth and, when I didn't open, it slipped to the side.

I could feel his precum and resisted the urge to lick it from my lips.

"Suck me, damn it!"

This wasn't demanding enough.  I just rolled my eyes.  "Come on, Cla-"

He shoved his dick into my mouth and grunted as the teeth scraped over the head.

"Shit, Lex."

I had to open wider and prayed that what little semblance of a gag reflex I had would stay quiet.

I swirled my tongue around the tip, his taste and smell permeating my senses.  I could feel my own dick begging for attention.

Instead I teased him, bringing my hands up to caress the taut skin and his sac.

"Just fucking suck it, Lex."  This time, to be sure I followed his order, he placed his hand around the back of my head and pushed.

He groaned and thrust hard into my mouth several times.  He was so big, so fucking long that it hit the back of my throat and slipped lower.  I gagged, convulsing around him.

"Jesus," he said and thrust again.

He froze suddenly as if he heard something.  I pulled back, the release of suction audible, and listened.

There was the sound of the screen door opening and slamming shut.  "Clark?"  His father was silent a moment.  "Shucks."

I almost laughed at the innocent word, the irony and the humiliation of it all.  Jonathon and his clean little house in his clean little world, oblvious to the fact that his son was in the only dingy room in the house- like dirt swept under the rug- forcing a guy, a Luthor guy, to suck him off.

I heard his father open the fridge and start whistling.

"Fuck it," muttered Clark and thrust back against my now closed mouth.

I shook my head, knowing that we'd crossed the line between cutting it close and acting insane.  Clark on the other hand, didn't seem to care.

That made me even harder. He glared at me and thrust towards me again. I smirked, letting my refusal of his demand fill the air. Once again, I wanted to see what he would do. I needed his reaction to be fierce, as I didn't want to lose the edge.

He lifted me up from the floor by my armpits.  "Fine.  Don't want to blow me?"

I heard the door slam shut again and Mr. Kent's retreating footsteps on gravel.

"I'll do it now."

He shook his head looking at me with fierce glee.  "No you won't.  You missed your opportunity."

"But-"

He leaned in closer.  "I'm gonna make you scream, Lex."

I shivered and he reached behind me, pulling several ties from the rack.

"I'm going to pound into that ass, Lex.  Believe me.  You've never been fucked like you're about to be."

I knew that was the truth, but in this game you have to play along.  I stepped up to him.  "With this?"  I stroked the length of his heated and erect flesh, amazed as it grew thicker, harder.  I was going to be sore as hell after this.

I let my hand tighten around his erection and he weakened visibly, placing his hands against the washer on either side of me and leaning back against the door.  He bent his head forward and his hair swept my chest.

This single moment of vulnerability was all I needed.

I stepped in closer and whispered hotly.  "Has anyone ever even touched you before me, Kent?  Lana?  Chloe?  Anyone?  Or do you just jerk off at the thought of your precious princess on her knees in some janitor's closet sucking you off?"

He looked up and grinned.  "No princess.  But a rich prince maybe."

Something deep inside me, something that had nothing to do with the game clicked, and I knew he felt it too.  Fortunately that was stored for later dissection.  Later when softness and laughter were an issue.

"And no janitor's closet, but by the pool table?  Sure."

"Why the pool table?" I asked.  I'd had the same fantasy and wondered casually if the plot was the same.

"Because we bet and I won."

Yup, I thought. Same plot.  Different victor.

"Then there's always the fantasies of me throwing you face-down on that big desk of yours and shoving my dick so far up your ass that you'll be able to feel me for months."

"Please," I said smugly, ignoring the heat in my chest.  I'd have to bring that topic up the next time he dropped of the produce.

I let my fingers push his erection down, then removed them. It swayed up and down.  "Do you even know what to do with this thing?"

"Let's find out."  He spun me around and grabbed my wrists, tying them quickly behind my back with one of the ties.  He brought another one around and shoved the entire thing in my mouth.  With the last one, he slipped it into my mouth and over the other one, tying it in the back.

I pressed my head to the cool metal lid of the washer when I felt him grazing my balls and moaned when the soft pads of the fingertips lined the perineum.  His finger traced the throbbing vein of my length, up and up and up.  He'd go back to the base and move up again, but never move down, twisting little circles with his palm.  I could feel the blood rushing from my head to my cock.  I whimpered and thrust my ass back towards him.

"Do you want me to fuck you?"

I said nothing and he tickled the head of my dick.  I muttered into the tie and he twisted his hand up again, away from the base.  He teased my ass with his other hand, then shoved a finger, lubed with hand lotion, inside.

I growled at the sensation and relaxed just in time for the second finger.  They plunged deeply into me and bumped up against my prostrate.  I threw my head and body back against his chest, crying out just as he withdrew his fingers.

I started blabbering into the ties and he pulled them out.

"Fuck me, Clark," I whispered hoarsely, rubbing my ass against his steely erection.  The world around me was ringing and my face was flushing with desire.  "Make me yours."

"I can't hear you, Lex," he taunted.

I bit his bait.  "Tame me and make me scream your name into that tie, Clark."  I gasped and quivered as his fingers teased my hole again.  "Make it so that I'll feel your fucking dick drilling my ass for the rest of my life."

"Say it," he whispered, fingering my anus.

I shook my head.  He slipped his fingers back inside me, scissoring, stretching.

"Say it," he growled.

He pressed up against my prostrate and flashes of fiery pleasure soared through my blood.  He kept his fingers there, rubbing back and forth, back and forth until I could feel myself close to the edge.  I was sweating and shaking with delight, his fingers driving me mad.

"God, Clark, yeah!"  I moaned.  "Oh, shit!"

He pulled his fingers out.

"CLARK!!"  I roared.  "FUCK ME!!"

"Say it," he said simply.

I bowed my head.  "Please."

He shoved the ties in place and forced me back onto the washer.  I heard him fumbling around for a moment and took the situation in.  I was bent over for him, tied up, and I could feel my cock straining, shoved up flat against the cold, metal machine and ready to fucking explode.  I pictured how I must look: face flushed, a heavy and constant panting accompanied by the occasional whimper, and ass in the air, hole exposed, stretched, readied.

I was begging to be reamed.

I felt his fingers spreading my cheeks and the smooth head of his heated and lubricated cock rubbing against the opening.  I relaxed and thrust up against him.

He gasped and entered me fast and hard.  I hadn't been ready for the length of him and I cried out in pain.  He pulled back and thrust into me again, this time I hit my head against the dial board of the washer.

This was going to be fucking incredible.

I heard the screen door slam again and then voices filled the air.

Martha and Jonathon.

"He's probably taking a rest out in the fields, Jona-  Did you make that mess?  That's from my favorite set!"

Clark froze and, impossibly, I felt his cock harden inside of me, stretching me even more.

He was getting turned on by almost getting caught?  We were mere feet from his parents.  All they had to do was open the door and bam.  There they would find their son with his dick up the hated Luthor's ass, bent over in their dirty little laundry room.

Once again I almost laughed.

Clark's father would fucking kill me.

My cock hardened, too, and I struggled against my bonds.  I needed some fucking release.

I moaned slightly and Clark seemed to take the hint.  He started rocking inside of me, all the while his parents talked about the Ross's and the market and Martha's borken glass.

Clark hit my prostate and I groaned, clenching around him.  He gasped and slammed into me hard, rocking the washer.  I felt his hand suddenly around me and we rocked together, him thrusting into my ass, me into his hand.

"So fucking tight, Lex!  I just want to grind you," he whispered.

Grind away, I thought, knowing that he was the first in a long time to think me tight.  Of course he was the first in a long time that I considered big, and never anyone so fucking mammoth.

His other hand tightened around my waist and I heard Jonathon ask what the noise was.  Martha complained about the washer breaking.

"I'll go check it out," Jonathon stated and Clark's hand strengthen to a vise-like grip, not too hard, but just enough to finish me off.

I thrust one last time and felt the veins bulging in my head as I pulsed, coming all over my stomach, Clark's hand and the washer.  I'd never come so hard in my life and I knew the next time it had to be somewhere where I could scream my fucking lungs out until the orgasm was over.

Clark removed me from the washer and stood me up in front of him, turned and then pressed my torso down.  It felt like touching my toes- thank God for yoga- in mock salute, but then he began to thrash into me hard, pulverizing my ass.  He was lucky that this position gave me enough air to breathe and took away enough that I couldn't scream. All I could do was stand there and take it, whimpering and loving every fucking second.

"Let Clark do it when he gets in.  He can use his X-"

"God, Lex," he whispered.  "You're so fucking tight."

That's because you've got me stretched like a shaved skin.

I grinned behind the ties and used my senior sexual experience to my advantage.

I tightened the canal.

As he yelled my name-

Oh, shit....

-the hot and heavy load began filling me up inside.

There was no way that his parents didn't hear his shout.  My name.  And there was no way that Clark was going to get over his orgasm in time to…  To…

Well, in time to do anything.

All my brain processed was that at least I was the one all tied up and submissive-like, because if it was him, I'd be dead as soon as Jonathon Kent opened that door.

A shit-eating grin on my face because I just got the fuck of a lifetime, but dead nonetheless.

Clark was still out of when the doorknob began to turn and I just laughed.

Of all the ways for his parents to find out that he's got an inner, dominant demon…