Stand By Me 13
2/14/05 09:41 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyThis part drove me nuts--there was libreral use of ole Clubby here, I tell you. Also, a tremendous amount of fudging instead of fact-checking. *hangs head in apology* but, before my brains exploded I figured I'd better cut it loose. So here you go, toddle onstage, little story, and make it quick, 'cause Mama's standing in the wings with a Taser.
Lex walked around the altar rail, headed for the offices off to the side, his father’s office. He had some papers to get together, and he wanted him to read over the sermon for Sunday. He let himself in the office and found the papers on his father’s desk.
Lex had been trying to slowly distance himself from the whole circus since they’d settled here. Lionel was oddly agreeable, and his supposed *delicate* health came in handy as an excuse to avoid preaching at every service. Most Sundays he was able to sit at his father’s side and pray hard not to leap up screaming when he preached on sin in all it’s slippery forms--sins of the flesh and sins of the mind. He had to back away from it for his sanities sake, and focusing on something he cared about saved him.
He enjoyed playing piano for the choir, and he tried to concentrate on his enjoyment of music. He involved himself in that aspect more and more, and dreamed of starting over somewhere else, where he was totally anonymous, some place where no one cared about him.
He felt he’d have been quite good playing piano in a brothel…shame that was a thing of the past. He missed his calling, certainly.
He pulled out the desk chair and sat, still chuckling as he began to go over the sermon. Time slipped by quickly, and finally hunger made him lift his head, the sun was low and when he looked the paper again, it was too dark to see. He turned on the lamp and decided to finish up before going home—his dad was going to be busy at the station with some bigwig somebody.
The click of the lamp switch almost covered the click of the door opening, but years of…caution had trained him to react to sounds like that. He swiveled the chair around to meet his dad’s eyes. Okay. He breathed out the air he’d held in his lungs. They were on neutral ground. He’d never really bothered him in church.
“Alexander, I have someone I’d like to introduce you too. This is Mr. Edgar Morgan—he owns a broadcasting company, and he’s thinking about broadcasting our program nationwide. That would mean a lot to us financially, son. And we can deliver our message to thousands of people at once, instead of a small crowd here and there. Wouldn’t that just be wonderful?”
Lex wasn’t paying attention to his father; he was watching the man he’d brought in.
The man was elegant, not unattractive, an older man then his father; with silver hair, a lined but strangely youthful face and eyes so light a blue they looked silver. As they lit on him, they got darker and darker…his dad stood behind him and stroked a hand through his hair and he tried not to jerk forward at the unwelcome caress.
“Son, this is so important to me—you have no idea how important this is. I know you want to make me happy, don’t you?”
He wanted to scream. He felt like he was drowning in molasses—he knew what his father meant. The words flew around in his head and tangled with his silent pleas for mercy and nothing could get out. He managed a faint ‘no’ that spilled out like a wheeze from his lips. His dad pushed him forward in the chair, and yanked his jacket down around his arms, pinning him with practiced ease. He could see Morgan’s face twist in an unpleasant expression…
Lionel leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “You need to do this, it will all work out, I promise. It won’t be so bad—it’s a penance son, that’s all.”—Lex looked into his eyes, and his father cringed slightly before his expression hardened. What of it? Lex thought. He suffered—so what, it meant nothing. If he didn’t die, he healed. Life went on.
Lex searched for the part of his father that loved him, it thinned and disappeared like fog as he watched. Nothing left but Lionel Luthor, who was looking at his property, something he could trade for…for benefits.
Lex slumped in the chair. He didn’t even care, it didn’t make a difference. His dad would justify it, or spin into a fit of self-loathing, punish him for it—of course.
He sat like a stone and the other man undressed him and became more and more excited with each piece of clothing he removed or unbuttoned, yanking roughly at him until only the open shirt and jacket pulled around his elbows kept him from being naked in the chair.
Morgan touched him, running his hand over his thighs and around his knees and down his claves, back up and between his legs, squeezing and pinching and scratching painfully as he did so. He was looking at his skin, Lex realized—he was watching welts appear and disappear instantly and Lex shivered and tried not to vomit—He told him, He told him what happens when …. He hoped desperately Morgan did not have a knife. Shallow cuts healed fast, but deep ones….
Lex closed his eyes and tried to be somewhere else, when his cock began to respond he tried *desperately* to be somewhere else. This was the part that horrified him, frightened him more than any of it. Those little whispers at the back of his skull that told him he must like it on some level—why not. He wanted men—he must want this…he shut down that avenue of thinking; he wasn’t crazy and this wasn’t right, but….
Pain dropped him back in his body again when the man pushed fingers into his ass; it made him gasp and jump. Lionel stood behind him and reached into his shirt, twisting his nipples, pulling and twisting harder and harder until he cried out in pain, and the other man chuckled, a distressingly warm, cheerful sound, and pushed harder and twin spears of pain ran through him, he was fighting not to scream, and his cock wilted completely. Morgan cared not at all, he stood and opened his pants and his wet erection was in front of Lex’s face, he rubbed the head across his closed mouth. Lex’s lips were mashed against his teeth, and he could feel them press into the tender flesh.
Crack! “Open damn it!”— The sudden slap made his mouth fly open in shock and Morgan shoved in until he couldn’t go further. Lex choked, he gagged and struggled to breathe. Morgan began fucking his mouth, grunting with the force of it, Lex tasted copper from his lacerated lip, saliva filled his mouth and spilled out around his lips, pink with blood it ran over his chin to hit the man and the floor. It seemed to drive the man into frenzy—he groaned and yanked Lex up by the hair so hard red strands floated in the air around them.
“Wait,” his father said. And Lex felt a black tide rise inside of him, felt something in him shrivel into nothingness. He was pushed onto the wooden floor and his hips pulled up, the shirt thrown up to his shoulders and his dad’s fist grinding down between his shoulder blades.
“I’ll be kind boy, nicer than I need to be.” The other man laughed again. Lionel snapped his attention back to him and snarled. “He loves it, he wants it."
There was hand cream in the desk drawer and Lionel slathered it on himself, jabbed lotion covered fingers in him and pronounced it good. He drove into him in one long searing horrible push, his favorite way to enter him and Lex opened his mouth to scream and again Morgan assaulted him. He was battered from both ends, his knees shrieked across the bare wooden floors with every lunge and thrust. After an eon Morgan came, and Lex swallowed and swallowed and tried not to throw up. Lionel roared and clawed his back. Lex waited him out. When Lionel finally pulled out and off of him, le felt like his body was on fire, his ass, his knees…He could see thin pink streaks of blood on the floorboards. He gasped and sobbed, shook with disgust for himself, he’d come anyway---he was damned, he deserved it—he must….
The men pulled themselves together, and Morgan smiled down at him on the way out the door. “You were everything he claimed you’d be, and more,” he smirked.
Alone and Lionel glared down at him. “You know why I have to punish you. You’re a demon, you pull others into sin with you, you’ve damned me--destroyed me—so I have to destroy you. One way or another, you have to be punished. I wonder—does your soul heal. Alexander? Do you feel it knitting…” He bent down and touched his arm, suddenly he was Lionel again, his eyes went wet and glossy, his voice rough with emotion, and his hand on his shoulder was warm and soft. “I swear, it really is for you—some day you’ll realize how much I’ve given up for you, how hard I tried for you. Without you I’m nothing, I swear it.” Lionel stroked his arm, stroked his cheek and the moment passed, and his eyes hardened again. He rose to his feet.
“When you’re done resting, get this mess cleaned up, I’ll see you back at the house.”
Lex waited until the door shut, and rolled to his side. Everything hurt and felt so tender, the inside of his mouth and his throat was so raw it hurt to swallow, every gulp was an agony, his knees looked flayed, they burned as steadily as his ass, he was one continuous circle of fire. He lay on the floor and silent tears of relief ran down his face—it wasn’t too bad, thank—thank whomever, it wasn’t too bad.
Stay tuned, it get's better--I mean, happier. I swear!
Lex walked around the altar rail, headed for the offices off to the side, his father’s office. He had some papers to get together, and he wanted him to read over the sermon for Sunday. He let himself in the office and found the papers on his father’s desk.
Lex had been trying to slowly distance himself from the whole circus since they’d settled here. Lionel was oddly agreeable, and his supposed *delicate* health came in handy as an excuse to avoid preaching at every service. Most Sundays he was able to sit at his father’s side and pray hard not to leap up screaming when he preached on sin in all it’s slippery forms--sins of the flesh and sins of the mind. He had to back away from it for his sanities sake, and focusing on something he cared about saved him.
He enjoyed playing piano for the choir, and he tried to concentrate on his enjoyment of music. He involved himself in that aspect more and more, and dreamed of starting over somewhere else, where he was totally anonymous, some place where no one cared about him.
He felt he’d have been quite good playing piano in a brothel…shame that was a thing of the past. He missed his calling, certainly.
He pulled out the desk chair and sat, still chuckling as he began to go over the sermon. Time slipped by quickly, and finally hunger made him lift his head, the sun was low and when he looked the paper again, it was too dark to see. He turned on the lamp and decided to finish up before going home—his dad was going to be busy at the station with some bigwig somebody.
The click of the lamp switch almost covered the click of the door opening, but years of…caution had trained him to react to sounds like that. He swiveled the chair around to meet his dad’s eyes. Okay. He breathed out the air he’d held in his lungs. They were on neutral ground. He’d never really bothered him in church.
“Alexander, I have someone I’d like to introduce you too. This is Mr. Edgar Morgan—he owns a broadcasting company, and he’s thinking about broadcasting our program nationwide. That would mean a lot to us financially, son. And we can deliver our message to thousands of people at once, instead of a small crowd here and there. Wouldn’t that just be wonderful?”
Lex wasn’t paying attention to his father; he was watching the man he’d brought in.
The man was elegant, not unattractive, an older man then his father; with silver hair, a lined but strangely youthful face and eyes so light a blue they looked silver. As they lit on him, they got darker and darker…his dad stood behind him and stroked a hand through his hair and he tried not to jerk forward at the unwelcome caress.
“Son, this is so important to me—you have no idea how important this is. I know you want to make me happy, don’t you?”
He wanted to scream. He felt like he was drowning in molasses—he knew what his father meant. The words flew around in his head and tangled with his silent pleas for mercy and nothing could get out. He managed a faint ‘no’ that spilled out like a wheeze from his lips. His dad pushed him forward in the chair, and yanked his jacket down around his arms, pinning him with practiced ease. He could see Morgan’s face twist in an unpleasant expression…
Lionel leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “You need to do this, it will all work out, I promise. It won’t be so bad—it’s a penance son, that’s all.”—Lex looked into his eyes, and his father cringed slightly before his expression hardened. What of it? Lex thought. He suffered—so what, it meant nothing. If he didn’t die, he healed. Life went on.
Lex searched for the part of his father that loved him, it thinned and disappeared like fog as he watched. Nothing left but Lionel Luthor, who was looking at his property, something he could trade for…for benefits.
Lex slumped in the chair. He didn’t even care, it didn’t make a difference. His dad would justify it, or spin into a fit of self-loathing, punish him for it—of course.
He sat like a stone and the other man undressed him and became more and more excited with each piece of clothing he removed or unbuttoned, yanking roughly at him until only the open shirt and jacket pulled around his elbows kept him from being naked in the chair.
Morgan touched him, running his hand over his thighs and around his knees and down his claves, back up and between his legs, squeezing and pinching and scratching painfully as he did so. He was looking at his skin, Lex realized—he was watching welts appear and disappear instantly and Lex shivered and tried not to vomit—He told him, He told him what happens when …. He hoped desperately Morgan did not have a knife. Shallow cuts healed fast, but deep ones….
Lex closed his eyes and tried to be somewhere else, when his cock began to respond he tried *desperately* to be somewhere else. This was the part that horrified him, frightened him more than any of it. Those little whispers at the back of his skull that told him he must like it on some level—why not. He wanted men—he must want this…he shut down that avenue of thinking; he wasn’t crazy and this wasn’t right, but….
Pain dropped him back in his body again when the man pushed fingers into his ass; it made him gasp and jump. Lionel stood behind him and reached into his shirt, twisting his nipples, pulling and twisting harder and harder until he cried out in pain, and the other man chuckled, a distressingly warm, cheerful sound, and pushed harder and twin spears of pain ran through him, he was fighting not to scream, and his cock wilted completely. Morgan cared not at all, he stood and opened his pants and his wet erection was in front of Lex’s face, he rubbed the head across his closed mouth. Lex’s lips were mashed against his teeth, and he could feel them press into the tender flesh.
Crack! “Open damn it!”— The sudden slap made his mouth fly open in shock and Morgan shoved in until he couldn’t go further. Lex choked, he gagged and struggled to breathe. Morgan began fucking his mouth, grunting with the force of it, Lex tasted copper from his lacerated lip, saliva filled his mouth and spilled out around his lips, pink with blood it ran over his chin to hit the man and the floor. It seemed to drive the man into frenzy—he groaned and yanked Lex up by the hair so hard red strands floated in the air around them.
“Wait,” his father said. And Lex felt a black tide rise inside of him, felt something in him shrivel into nothingness. He was pushed onto the wooden floor and his hips pulled up, the shirt thrown up to his shoulders and his dad’s fist grinding down between his shoulder blades.
“I’ll be kind boy, nicer than I need to be.” The other man laughed again. Lionel snapped his attention back to him and snarled. “He loves it, he wants it."
There was hand cream in the desk drawer and Lionel slathered it on himself, jabbed lotion covered fingers in him and pronounced it good. He drove into him in one long searing horrible push, his favorite way to enter him and Lex opened his mouth to scream and again Morgan assaulted him. He was battered from both ends, his knees shrieked across the bare wooden floors with every lunge and thrust. After an eon Morgan came, and Lex swallowed and swallowed and tried not to throw up. Lionel roared and clawed his back. Lex waited him out. When Lionel finally pulled out and off of him, le felt like his body was on fire, his ass, his knees…He could see thin pink streaks of blood on the floorboards. He gasped and sobbed, shook with disgust for himself, he’d come anyway---he was damned, he deserved it—he must….
The men pulled themselves together, and Morgan smiled down at him on the way out the door. “You were everything he claimed you’d be, and more,” he smirked.
Alone and Lionel glared down at him. “You know why I have to punish you. You’re a demon, you pull others into sin with you, you’ve damned me--destroyed me—so I have to destroy you. One way or another, you have to be punished. I wonder—does your soul heal. Alexander? Do you feel it knitting…” He bent down and touched his arm, suddenly he was Lionel again, his eyes went wet and glossy, his voice rough with emotion, and his hand on his shoulder was warm and soft. “I swear, it really is for you—some day you’ll realize how much I’ve given up for you, how hard I tried for you. Without you I’m nothing, I swear it.” Lionel stroked his arm, stroked his cheek and the moment passed, and his eyes hardened again. He rose to his feet.
“When you’re done resting, get this mess cleaned up, I’ll see you back at the house.”
Lex waited until the door shut, and rolled to his side. Everything hurt and felt so tender, the inside of his mouth and his throat was so raw it hurt to swallow, every gulp was an agony, his knees looked flayed, they burned as steadily as his ass, he was one continuous circle of fire. He lay on the floor and silent tears of relief ran down his face—it wasn’t too bad, thank—thank whomever, it wasn’t too bad.
Stay tuned, it get's better--I mean, happier. I swear!
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
2/14/05 03:03 pm (UTC)(no subject)
2/14/05 03:56 pm (UTC)(no subject)
2/14/05 04:27 pm (UTC)(no subject)
2/14/05 03:17 pm (UTC)Roxy, you are an evil evil woman. *admires*
(no subject)
2/14/05 03:56 pm (UTC)(no subject)
2/14/05 03:40 pm (UTC)He felt he'd have been quite good playing piano in a brothel...shame that was a thing of the past. He missed his calling, certainly.
Awww, so cute. Not that Lex at all deserves to be in a brothel, but that he has something that he is good at and loves. I can't wait for Lex to play for Clark.
I am glad that Lex had some kind of life before Lionel controlled him 24/7.
.”-Lex looked into his eyes, and his father cringed slightly before his expression hardened. What of it? Lex thought. He suffered-so what, it meant nothing. If he didn't die, he healed. Life went on.
Great fatalism. Poor Lex.
I am applying for the position of deity in this world. I would be for the most part a forgiving goddess - people could live as they will as long as they were good to one another, but the are some people - some very very evil evil people - who I would smite like a smiting thing. There are plagues of old that I think would be perfect long term punishment, something that causes hair to fall out and skin to shear off the body in long blood thin strips and public shunning. Thank you for the warning, but I still . . . Grrrrrrrrrrrr! There would be retribution Dark Ages style for the Lexs of the world.
(no subject)
2/14/05 03:59 pm (UTC)(no subject)
2/14/05 04:11 pm (UTC)(no subject)
2/14/05 06:56 pm (UTC)(no subject)
2/14/05 04:28 pm (UTC)(no subject)
2/14/05 06:57 pm (UTC)(no subject)
2/14/05 07:42 pm (UTC)*hugs*
(no subject)
2/14/05 06:03 pm (UTC)And I start reading this at the part 13??!!??
(no subject)
2/14/05 06:57 pm (UTC)(no subject)
2/14/05 06:18 pm (UTC)(no subject)
2/14/05 06:58 pm (UTC)(no subject)
2/14/05 08:08 pm (UTC)Morgan touched him, running his hand over his thighs and around his knees and down his claves, back up and between his legs, squeezing and pinching and scratching painfully as he did so. He was looking at his skin, Lex realized—he was watching welts appear and disappear instantly and Lex shivered and tried not to vomit—He told him, He told him what happens when …. He hoped desperately Morgan did not have a knife. Shallow cuts healed fast, but deep ones….
It's Valentine's Day fer chrissakes! Cupid better take a fast rain out of town before he gets thrown in the mix.
(no subject)
2/14/05 08:24 pm (UTC)(no subject)
2/15/05 12:38 am (UTC)Please tell me Lionel and Edge die horrible deaths. Or live on as mangled, mutilated shells of their former selves.
(no subject)
2/15/05 02:05 am (UTC)On the way back from being satanic to our hero, they rolled their car into a ditch, where they were imprisoned miles from help and no one missed them.
Trapped, they were forced to eat each others faces. The Devil got the best of that deal since Morgan was clean-shaven. (the way Tom likes Mike) They slowly ate each other to death--and in no way enjoyed a single moment of it.
Come spring, a bear found what was left and buried it, 'cause no WAY was he eating that shit.
The End.
(no subject)
2/15/05 01:35 am (UTC)(no subject)
2/15/05 02:06 am (UTC)(no subject)
2/15/05 07:05 am (UTC)*whimper* Oh, Poor, poor Lex! I'm seeing a little vision of Sam Jackson and his vengeance speech from Pulp Fiction in my head as I write this. *frets for Lex* Help, Miss Roxy!! Help!!
(no subject)
2/16/05 05:26 am (UTC)(no subject)
2/16/05 08:41 pm (UTC)I'm a wee bit embarrassed at how hot i found this, but um, well.... whatever!