Corn Silk
by Nymph Du Pave

The room was cold and quiet.  The daytime brights were muffled to shades of gray, black and white, both outside and inside.  It looked mysterious.  Atmospheric.  It was just how Lana liked it; a paragon for tight-lipped, early morning transactions.  The kind of 'early' that would make even Clark Kent groan for another two hours or so.

The kind of early hour that held only criminal dealings and scandalous sexual affairs.

She looked about the room, her stomach fluttering with anticipation.  She always arrived early, liked the quiet, the solitude.  She liked to think she came here for the mental reflections of her life that popped in from time to time.  On the days when she was being honest with herself -- more and more of a frequent occurrence -- she let free the idea that she liked to be watched, that she liked to be seen and that she liked to be in control.  Even when she wasn't, she was.  She allowed it all to happen and, by getting to the room first, she could prepare, both physically and mentally.

A shadow moved across the rectangles of moonlight lined in formation on the floor, and she knew that her partner was here.  Her accomplice, her prey, her favorite.

Her most delicious toy.

This was new, the whole situation, and the new usually pissed her off.  She could never have a lover more experienced than her, for it was then that she yielded the power.  It was the reason that she hadn't gone after Lex, the reason she hadn't fornicated with her All American quarterback.  The moment that Whitney had admitted to sleeping with the valedictorian a year before he and Lana had ever started dating…  She had lost her interest in sharing anything sexual with him.  Even when she'd learned passed what became an obviously limited sexual experience, she was no longer sexually interested in him.

Teasing him was another matter.  Touching him, kissing him, licking him, even sucking him a little, and then denying him…  Pulling back at the last moment, bringing on the tears, the religious 'I'm gonna burn in hell' or using planned impeccable timing on Nell's part…  She was breaking his patience with her, little by little, and she wanted to see what that would do to him…  She wanted to see if he would snap at her, dump her, hit her-

Rape her.

Lana shivered, an intense thrill running through her, and she felt a familiar tingle between her thighs. She figured that to be the ultimate control over a human being.  To get someone that you know loves you, that you know would do anything for you to hurt you, to violate you, to break your trust in such a disturbing and altering way-

It must make you feel like a God.

She would struggle her hardest and honestly try to get away from him when the composure shattered.  She hoped that he could keep her there, hold her down; hoped that he wouldn't break away and realize what he was doing.

A part of her wanted to lose control.  She'd still have the control from where she'd forced him to take her unwilling, 'virgin' body.  But part of her wanted to feel fear and pain and something.  She wanted someone to take the control from her.

And she could wait for that, but she wasn't interested in him for just normal sex.  He knew what he was doing, had things done to him before.  Lana would, in his mind, have to be taught.  He would have to be 'patient' as she learned the ropes.  He could know things from his experience that even she didn't.

She wanted nothing to do with that.  She wanted to feel like a goddess, wanted to be fucking revered.  Wanted her lover to want and need and think of only her, all the time.

It was the reason she had gone after Chloe.  Like a shark tracking blood, she had followed the hints.  Chloe's blushing at certain topics had intrigued her as the girl was simply never found flustered.  Around dead bodies and creepy stories and talk of fatal internal injuries, Chloe was as cool as a fucking iceberg.  Anything Lana had brought up, Chloe was ready with a quick piece of information or a witty comment.

Then one day someone had sent an anonymous letter to the Torch asking about sex.  Lana headed up the 'Dear Phoenix' section of the paper and selected which letters would head to Sarah Ferman, that year's resident Phoenix.  She'd laughed and blushed.  She she knew her shy little angel character well, and had handed over the letter.  Lana Lang would never read such a thing aloud, not even to Chloe with whom she was becoming good friends.

It was the first time that she'd ever seen a tint to Chloe's face that didn't involve Quick Kent, Smallville's customary cowboy.  Then it had hit her.  Sex.  It was Chloe's Achilles heal.  And her bow.

She suddenly wanted to be Chloe's Apollo.

Subtle flirting, light brushes, slivered smiles and occasional talk of sex had her in Chloe's court in no time.  Lana knew Chloe, knew that the girl was smart and well-read, modern and open-minded.  So she assumed that she had her chance and she played it carefully, calculating every move.

Touches were either accidental full body/breast/butt brushes, or a graze on the arm, an 'envious' look followed by a 'how you get your hair like that' and fingers that ran shyly through corn silk hair.  She would look down coyly and could feel the sexual heat after just a week.  After three weeks she caught Clark staring at the two of them strangely because Lana was openly ignoring his advances but always let the boy see her gazing longingly at Chloe.

This served two purposes.  One was to get Clark to talk to Chloe about what he was seeing, collaborating whatever Sullivan had in that discerning mind of her.  The other was to build on a possible threesome.

She grinned, remembering her little trip to Metropolis with her aunt.  Her 'I'm going shopping' and heading -- with months and months of saved money -- to sex stores and sex clubs that she'd looked up on the net.

The sex clubs… they were anonymous, for her a one-time deal that was fully about education.  She wasn't getting turned on; she was fucking and learning.  The better she was fucked the more attentive she was to every detail and the more educational the session.

The door opened and a dark shape moved hesitantly through the shadows.

This was to be their first time.

Lana smiled, touching her lips.  She thought of earlier in the week.  Chloe had been talking about editing Pete's piece on the Maniac Marathon that was still a week away.  She had been watching carefully, waiting until the moment was right.  Five weeks after she had started, Chloe was finally looking back and returning the touches.  The perky blonde and Clark sat at lunch one day under at the school steps while she sat under the oak tree.  She was pretending to read 'The Count of Monte Cristo', making sure that she looked her prettiest, her most innocent.  She kept the other two in her peripheral sight the entire time, keeping a mental log of the expressions and how many times both were looking at her with sexual hunger in their eyes.

She liked being watched by anyone, and her fish were biting.

Lana pretended to be nervous around Chloe for the next two days.  She'd run up and say hi, or go out of her way just to touch Chloe, especially in front of Clark.  Then when Chloe wanted to talk about something 'important' -- aka, 'why don't we find a nice moment to make out?' -- Lana would avoid her, knowing that Chloe would take it the wrong way, thinking that Lana feared rejection.

She didn't want a 'nice little moment'.  She wanted heat and need and secrecy.  She wanted 'I've been thinking about you all week's and 'I need you, Lana, please, God, please'.  She wanted Chloe's initiation into her soon-to-be obsession to be perfect.  And 'nice little moments' weren't the way to go.

So finally, Thursday had come.  The day that they always stayed after.  It was nine and the air had been sexually charged the entire day.  She'd gotten off on how clumsy and flustered Chloe was, how distant and slightly to the side she had been with every project.  Then the end of the night came and Lana kept blushing, smiling and standing close.  Leaning in to read over Chloe's shoulder, and holding back the girl's hair when it was 'getting in the way'.

When she heard Nell's car, timed it so that her aunt would be approaching the room, a mere twenty seconds away -- she made her move.  She pressed up against Chloe, her smaller breasts to the blonde girl's more plush ones, and kissed her, clumsily, awkwardly.

The light whimper from Chloe, and the girl's grip on Lana's upper arms had thrilled her almost senseless.  Her blood was fizzing by the time she pulled away.  She knew in that moment that this hunt was to be one of the most exciting.

The longing in Chloe's eyes, the eyeshadow the girl used lightly glittering in the overhead light's beam and the flexing grip on her arms...  There was a look between the two as Chloe's fingers tightened, then Nell entered.

Lana had approached the moment perfectly; they were hidden in the corner away from the door.  She had complete control over the situation.  By the time they were in Nell's view, they were busy at their respective desks.

Lana had picked up her pack, her papers and followed Nell out.  She'd turned at the door to give Chloe a sad look of need that Chloe caught and shared.

Then, on Friday, she avoided the girl all day.  She didn’t answer her phone all weekend if the number was the Torch's, either of Chloe's or Clark's.  If Chloe or Clark came into the Talon, she allowed them to watch her, but the moment they started to approach, she suddenly 'noticed' them and took off for another errand.

She didn't go to school Monday or Tuesday.  She wanted Chloe to be confused and wanting her so bad that the girl was forced to make something happen.

And it worked.

Lana went to school Wednesday and avoided Chloe the best she could.  Then she went to the bathroom during her study hour, which she usually spent in the Torch.  Chloe, as predicted, followed.  Lana went in and pretended not to notice the blonde girl closing the distance, locking the door, coming up behind her.

Chloe had grabbed and spun her around, pushing her into one of the stalls and up against the wall.  She kissed her fully, soundly on the lips and that was it.  Lana reacted as if she hadn't been able to take it anymore.  She pushed Chloe to the other side of the stall, whimpering like a kicked puppy and devoured the girl's mouth like only a mindless, horny virgin could.  She pressed her body close to Chloe's and let her hands travel toward the other girl's rear.

For two weeks after, Lana played the shy, needy girlfriend that was always aroused, that always wanted to touch and taste.  Chloe soon 'decided for them both' that they had waited long enough and could meet somewhere.  Neither of them could use their houses -- even though Nell was a drunk joke and wouldn't notice an orgy as long as ER was on, Lana had to keep up with appearances; besides, with Chloe she couldn't use the 'poor little angel in a home made of hell' for sympathy just yet -- so they decided to meet at the Torcch.

"Chloe?" came her soft voice, laced with a slight tremble of expectation and nerves.  She was good at this.  She new she couldn't reveal her true self, ever, and that was part of the fun, part of the adrenaline rush.  She had to be great without appearing experienced.

"I'm here."  Chloe's voice was stronger, but also nervous and giddy.  "God, Lana, you-"

"Yes?"

"You have no idea how much I missed you today."

That was what she wanted to hear.  She grinned in the dark, knowing that the sneer would appear to be a bashful but delighted grin.

Oh, corn silk, she thought.  You have no idea how much you're gonna be missing me.

The show was about to begin and Apollo had Paris by her side.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

FIN