Stand By Me 22
2/19/05 03:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyGrrr...this DustBowl thing was going to be a short little exercise in perversion but nooooo...
Here my friends are the Previous Parts, who are feeling just a little slighted by having nothing to do in this fic. Tut. Spoiled rotten little attention whores.
Whitney walked slowly up the stairs to the Luthor’s front door. His mind was on Lex.
He’d been thinking about him a lot lately. He came here, did things, got things—he glanced down at a brand new pair of Italian shoes on his feet, the French cut trousers he was wearing—and told himself he was doing Lex a favor. Maybe he needed to do more than that--maybe he needed to let Lex know that he didn’t need to fear his father. I should tell him what I’m doing-he must see something’s up…maybe he could show him what a twisted little pile of shit his dad was and then he’d never have to fear him again. Yeah—that was a plan.
He felt satisfied. Yep. That would show Lex and Clark he was trying to help. He could be un-selfish. After all, wasn’t this all about Clark’s lover-boy? And he loved Clark enough to learn to leave the people he cared about alone—that was good too, wasn’t it? Whit stepped lighter, with purpose and a feeling of accomplishment warming him.
He met Lionel in the study, and locked the door behind him. He looked around the small space, the drapes were drawn, and only the desk lamp lit, casting deep shadows and making a pool of gold around the desk. Drinks were set out and Lionel sat in the chair, cane clutched in his hands and his eyes were blazing. Whitney smiled. This should be good.
“Celebrate with me, Mr. Fordman, my project has finally borne fruit. I’m going to be more than comfortable—thanks to Lex. I’m going to own the airwaves soon!”
He gestured for Whitney to come closer, his eyes glittering and a pointed tongue slid out and ran around his mouth.
Whitney shook his head—“I want to show you something.” He stroked his hand over his groin and Lionel smiled. “Ah. A show for me? Please,” he waved his hand. “Continue, by all means.”
Whitney smiled and bent, removed one shoe and then the other, holding that one in his hand, he lifted the smooth hand stitched leather to his face, rubbing it across his cheek to his chin. He kept his eyes locked on Lionel who watched him with interest. He rubbed the shoe across his lip, the soft leather making the tiniest sound as it rubbed over his mouth. He let the heel pull his lip down, and touched inside with his tongue and smiled when Lionel gasped. He closed his eyes, ran his tongue around the opening of the shoe and pulled it away, revealing the very tip of his tongue, pink and wet between his lips.
Lionel leaned forward in the chair and his hands tightened on the cane. Whitney removed silk socks and rolled them over his crotch and down his thighs to make tidy balls and slipped them into the shoes.
He unbuttoned his suspenders and pushed them back behind him, they hung from the one button on the back of his waistband, made a slithery sound against the wood floor as he moved. His hands came to his waist and touched the top button, Lionel made a noise and Whit could feel him self jerking, beginning to get hard. The intense scrutiny was affecting him as much as he was affecting Lionel.
He unbuttoned and ran the zipper slowly down, loving the sound of it…he ran his fingers over the small metal teeth and smiled, liking the way they caught softly at his fingertips and slipped his hand into the open fly and stroked. Lionel gasped aloud and the cane scrapped against the floor.
He unbuttoned the last suspender button and dropped the trousers, kicking them away. He grabbed the button of his silk briefs and tore it off, making Lionel gasp again, and ripped the material as he yanked them down. Naked from the waist down, he carded his fingers through the hair descending from his navel, followed it to the base of his cock standing up hard and wet between the open tails of his shirt...he stroked briefly and watched Lionel’s knuckles grow white as they clutched the cane so hard Whitney waited for it to snap.
He undid his tie and slung it around his neck and ripped his shirt open from hem to neck, the noise of the little buttons hitting the floor, plinking and clicking as they hit and rolled everywhere, the only sound in the room for a minute and then--Lionel’s breath left him in an explosive burst.
Whitney smirked. “You can buy me a new one,” he said and threw the remains of the shirt on the floor. Lionel nodded--Whitney was naked save the tie around his neck and he saw nothing else.
Whitney stroked himself and just managed to silence a groan, not wanting to give Lionel anything yet....
Lionel didn’t try to be silent—a moan burst out, loud and pained, his hands squeezed the cane, slid down and back up to rub the silver head topping the cane. He stared at Whitney stroking himself, squeezing himself on each stroke and Lionel’s hands moved over the head of the cane and down as beads of sweat gathered at his hairline and his mouth hung slightly open.
Whitney hit a rhythm that made him buck, and breathe in short harsh bursts. He watched Lionel mimic every move on the cane and…stopped. Lionel groaned in protest and his hand jerked to the top of the cane and Whitney copied the move. Lionel gripped the cane and Whitney gripped himself. The other man’s eyes widened and he began jerking the cane as if it where himself and Whitney copied every move. Lionel moaned loudly dropped the cane and squeezed his cock, dropping his head back against the chair.
Whit stopped also. “Undress,” he said, and Lionel flew to comply.
Whit moved to the top desk drawer and removed a small brown bottle of oil and the rod.
“Get up.” When Lionel stood, Whitney wrapped the suspenders around his wrists, pulling it tight. Lionel’s eyes were glazed, he seemed to be far away as Whitney trussed his wrists, rolled up a shred of his shirt, tilted his jaw open and stuffed the wad of cotton into Lionel’s mouth.
That seemed to bring him back into the room, his eyes were wide and his eyelids shivered. Whitney knotted the tie around them and pushed Lionel to his knees, and poured the oil on the small of his back, watched it roll down his cleft and puddle on the floor.
He raised the rod and brought it down on his ass with crack. Lionel’s scream was muffled by the cotton, and he jerked away from Whitney.
“That won’t do—I need you to stay in place,” he muttered.
Two more strips were torn from the shirt and Lionel’s arms were pulled out from his sides and tied to the legs of the chair. The muscles stood out on his arms like ropes, his chest was pressed against the seat of the chair.
“Hurt? Whitney asked. Lionel nodded frantically.
“Good,” he said and brought the rod down on his back. “Think about how you hurt him—think about how he felt—think about how you’re nevercrackevercrack going to touch him in any way again.”crack he took the rod and stroked it around his hole, “Still hurt?” Lioinel shook his head, and a slow tremble ran down his body.
“You’re lying,” Whit said, and reached around him to jerk his cocks until it was hard again and Lionel was moaning around the gag. Whit stepped back, slid the rod inside Lionel and walked away. He wandered over to the desk and poured a drink, Lionel groaned and tried to move, searching for relief from pain. Whitney watched and stroked himself harder. He emptied the glass and dropped it on the floor. “Are you ready?”
Lionel shook his head as hard as he could, his nostrils flaring as he desperately tried to breathe. Whit chuckled as stepped behind him.
“Don’t come, understand? No matter how bad you want to, you can’t—not until I tell you you can.” He grabbed the rod and moved it in and out. “When I tell you to come, then you come—got it? “He ripped out the rod and slammed into him. Lionel shrieked through the gag and jerked hard.
Whitney fucked him violently, using a handful of his hair wrapped around his fist as reins. He fucked him without pause, fucked him until he was about to come. He felt it racing through him and he pumped once, twice, pulled out, stood back and came over Lionel’s ass and quivering back.
Whitney breathed heavily, his eyes sweeping about the room and he saw the cane, the silver head glinting in the lamplight.
He grinned, and picked it up. The silver head slid up into Lionel as smooth as he’d slid out, the long wood shaft resting against the floor between his feet.’
“You can come now,” Whitney said. And Lionel screamed, spurting over the floor, twisting in his bonds until Whitney swore he heard bones popping, his head slammed over and over into the chair cushion and the wooden shaft twitched and scraped across the floor, jerking with each contraction, each spurt of his lashing cock.
Whitney waited until he calmed and pulled the gag from his mouth.
“Okay?” he asked with a smirk. Lionel didn’t answer, he breathed heavily, groaning slightly, louder when Whitney put pressure between his shoulder blades.
“What, got nothing to say? How rude.” He twisted Lionel’s head towards him again, shoved the wet mass of material back in Lionel’s mouth and unknotted the tie. Lionel’s eyes were blazing insanely as they darted here and there about the room.
Whitney stood. “I’ll leave you here. You’ll be fine. I’m sure *someone* will be glad to untie you.”
He dressed himself slowly, watching Lionel’s eyes. “This isn’t interesting anymore, I don’t need to come again—unless you ignore what I told you.”
He grabbed Lionel’s pants off the floor. “I’m sure you want to replace my shirt—I don’t need a fancy French one—one from my dad’s store will do as well.” he grinned and felt in the pockets until he found Lionel’s wallet and took few bills out. He kissed them and tucked them in his own pocket, picked up the rod and slid it under Lionel’s bent elbows.He waved a cheery good bye and left Lionel on his knees in oil and come.
Stay tuned... are we still friends?
Here my friends are the Previous Parts, who are feeling just a little slighted by having nothing to do in this fic. Tut. Spoiled rotten little attention whores.
Whitney walked slowly up the stairs to the Luthor’s front door. His mind was on Lex.
He’d been thinking about him a lot lately. He came here, did things, got things—he glanced down at a brand new pair of Italian shoes on his feet, the French cut trousers he was wearing—and told himself he was doing Lex a favor. Maybe he needed to do more than that--maybe he needed to let Lex know that he didn’t need to fear his father. I should tell him what I’m doing-he must see something’s up…maybe he could show him what a twisted little pile of shit his dad was and then he’d never have to fear him again. Yeah—that was a plan.
He felt satisfied. Yep. That would show Lex and Clark he was trying to help. He could be un-selfish. After all, wasn’t this all about Clark’s lover-boy? And he loved Clark enough to learn to leave the people he cared about alone—that was good too, wasn’t it? Whit stepped lighter, with purpose and a feeling of accomplishment warming him.
He met Lionel in the study, and locked the door behind him. He looked around the small space, the drapes were drawn, and only the desk lamp lit, casting deep shadows and making a pool of gold around the desk. Drinks were set out and Lionel sat in the chair, cane clutched in his hands and his eyes were blazing. Whitney smiled. This should be good.
“Celebrate with me, Mr. Fordman, my project has finally borne fruit. I’m going to be more than comfortable—thanks to Lex. I’m going to own the airwaves soon!”
He gestured for Whitney to come closer, his eyes glittering and a pointed tongue slid out and ran around his mouth.
Whitney shook his head—“I want to show you something.” He stroked his hand over his groin and Lionel smiled. “Ah. A show for me? Please,” he waved his hand. “Continue, by all means.”
Whitney smiled and bent, removed one shoe and then the other, holding that one in his hand, he lifted the smooth hand stitched leather to his face, rubbing it across his cheek to his chin. He kept his eyes locked on Lionel who watched him with interest. He rubbed the shoe across his lip, the soft leather making the tiniest sound as it rubbed over his mouth. He let the heel pull his lip down, and touched inside with his tongue and smiled when Lionel gasped. He closed his eyes, ran his tongue around the opening of the shoe and pulled it away, revealing the very tip of his tongue, pink and wet between his lips.
Lionel leaned forward in the chair and his hands tightened on the cane. Whitney removed silk socks and rolled them over his crotch and down his thighs to make tidy balls and slipped them into the shoes.
He unbuttoned his suspenders and pushed them back behind him, they hung from the one button on the back of his waistband, made a slithery sound against the wood floor as he moved. His hands came to his waist and touched the top button, Lionel made a noise and Whit could feel him self jerking, beginning to get hard. The intense scrutiny was affecting him as much as he was affecting Lionel.
He unbuttoned and ran the zipper slowly down, loving the sound of it…he ran his fingers over the small metal teeth and smiled, liking the way they caught softly at his fingertips and slipped his hand into the open fly and stroked. Lionel gasped aloud and the cane scrapped against the floor.
He unbuttoned the last suspender button and dropped the trousers, kicking them away. He grabbed the button of his silk briefs and tore it off, making Lionel gasp again, and ripped the material as he yanked them down. Naked from the waist down, he carded his fingers through the hair descending from his navel, followed it to the base of his cock standing up hard and wet between the open tails of his shirt...he stroked briefly and watched Lionel’s knuckles grow white as they clutched the cane so hard Whitney waited for it to snap.
He undid his tie and slung it around his neck and ripped his shirt open from hem to neck, the noise of the little buttons hitting the floor, plinking and clicking as they hit and rolled everywhere, the only sound in the room for a minute and then--Lionel’s breath left him in an explosive burst.
Whitney smirked. “You can buy me a new one,” he said and threw the remains of the shirt on the floor. Lionel nodded--Whitney was naked save the tie around his neck and he saw nothing else.
Whitney stroked himself and just managed to silence a groan, not wanting to give Lionel anything yet....
Lionel didn’t try to be silent—a moan burst out, loud and pained, his hands squeezed the cane, slid down and back up to rub the silver head topping the cane. He stared at Whitney stroking himself, squeezing himself on each stroke and Lionel’s hands moved over the head of the cane and down as beads of sweat gathered at his hairline and his mouth hung slightly open.
Whitney hit a rhythm that made him buck, and breathe in short harsh bursts. He watched Lionel mimic every move on the cane and…stopped. Lionel groaned in protest and his hand jerked to the top of the cane and Whitney copied the move. Lionel gripped the cane and Whitney gripped himself. The other man’s eyes widened and he began jerking the cane as if it where himself and Whitney copied every move. Lionel moaned loudly dropped the cane and squeezed his cock, dropping his head back against the chair.
Whit stopped also. “Undress,” he said, and Lionel flew to comply.
Whit moved to the top desk drawer and removed a small brown bottle of oil and the rod.
“Get up.” When Lionel stood, Whitney wrapped the suspenders around his wrists, pulling it tight. Lionel’s eyes were glazed, he seemed to be far away as Whitney trussed his wrists, rolled up a shred of his shirt, tilted his jaw open and stuffed the wad of cotton into Lionel’s mouth.
That seemed to bring him back into the room, his eyes were wide and his eyelids shivered. Whitney knotted the tie around them and pushed Lionel to his knees, and poured the oil on the small of his back, watched it roll down his cleft and puddle on the floor.
He raised the rod and brought it down on his ass with crack. Lionel’s scream was muffled by the cotton, and he jerked away from Whitney.
“That won’t do—I need you to stay in place,” he muttered.
Two more strips were torn from the shirt and Lionel’s arms were pulled out from his sides and tied to the legs of the chair. The muscles stood out on his arms like ropes, his chest was pressed against the seat of the chair.
“Hurt? Whitney asked. Lionel nodded frantically.
“Good,” he said and brought the rod down on his back. “Think about how you hurt him—think about how he felt—think about how you’re nevercrackevercrack going to touch him in any way again.”crack he took the rod and stroked it around his hole, “Still hurt?” Lioinel shook his head, and a slow tremble ran down his body.
“You’re lying,” Whit said, and reached around him to jerk his cocks until it was hard again and Lionel was moaning around the gag. Whit stepped back, slid the rod inside Lionel and walked away. He wandered over to the desk and poured a drink, Lionel groaned and tried to move, searching for relief from pain. Whitney watched and stroked himself harder. He emptied the glass and dropped it on the floor. “Are you ready?”
Lionel shook his head as hard as he could, his nostrils flaring as he desperately tried to breathe. Whit chuckled as stepped behind him.
“Don’t come, understand? No matter how bad you want to, you can’t—not until I tell you you can.” He grabbed the rod and moved it in and out. “When I tell you to come, then you come—got it? “He ripped out the rod and slammed into him. Lionel shrieked through the gag and jerked hard.
Whitney fucked him violently, using a handful of his hair wrapped around his fist as reins. He fucked him without pause, fucked him until he was about to come. He felt it racing through him and he pumped once, twice, pulled out, stood back and came over Lionel’s ass and quivering back.
Whitney breathed heavily, his eyes sweeping about the room and he saw the cane, the silver head glinting in the lamplight.
He grinned, and picked it up. The silver head slid up into Lionel as smooth as he’d slid out, the long wood shaft resting against the floor between his feet.’
“You can come now,” Whitney said. And Lionel screamed, spurting over the floor, twisting in his bonds until Whitney swore he heard bones popping, his head slammed over and over into the chair cushion and the wooden shaft twitched and scraped across the floor, jerking with each contraction, each spurt of his lashing cock.
Whitney waited until he calmed and pulled the gag from his mouth.
“Okay?” he asked with a smirk. Lionel didn’t answer, he breathed heavily, groaning slightly, louder when Whitney put pressure between his shoulder blades.
“What, got nothing to say? How rude.” He twisted Lionel’s head towards him again, shoved the wet mass of material back in Lionel’s mouth and unknotted the tie. Lionel’s eyes were blazing insanely as they darted here and there about the room.
Whitney stood. “I’ll leave you here. You’ll be fine. I’m sure *someone* will be glad to untie you.”
He dressed himself slowly, watching Lionel’s eyes. “This isn’t interesting anymore, I don’t need to come again—unless you ignore what I told you.”
He grabbed Lionel’s pants off the floor. “I’m sure you want to replace my shirt—I don’t need a fancy French one—one from my dad’s store will do as well.” he grinned and felt in the pockets until he found Lionel’s wallet and took few bills out. He kissed them and tucked them in his own pocket, picked up the rod and slid it under Lionel’s bent elbows.He waved a cheery good bye and left Lionel on his knees in oil and come.
Stay tuned... are we still friends?
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
2/19/05 09:38 pm (UTC)(no subject)
2/19/05 09:40 pm (UTC)(no subject)
2/19/05 09:45 pm (UTC)(no subject)
2/19/05 10:02 pm (UTC)(no subject)
2/20/05 01:55 am (UTC)(no subject)
2/19/05 10:43 pm (UTC)But yeah, I agree with
(no subject)
2/20/05 01:53 am (UTC)I think it's been firmly established that Whitney needs a keeper. His dear little hamster doesn't run the wheel quite fast enough.
(no subject)
2/19/05 10:43 pm (UTC)That Fordman boy deserves to go far *G*, he's a sweetie.
(no subject)
2/19/05 10:45 pm (UTC)(no subject)
2/20/05 01:57 am (UTC)(no subject)
2/19/05 10:53 pm (UTC)(no subject)
2/20/05 01:59 am (UTC)(no subject)
2/19/05 11:08 pm (UTC)And the scene with the shoe--and the cane---and the silk socks.......::panting::
(no subject)
2/20/05 02:01 am (UTC)(no subject)
2/19/05 11:30 pm (UTC)Oh, my.
You are one twisted puppy.
:)
*bounce*
Man, i wonder -will this work, or will it backfire??
It's so dirtybadwrong and i LUUURVE it.
*smooch*
(no subject)
2/20/05 02:02 am (UTC)*i hang my head to hide my
evollaughtershame*(no subject)
2/20/05 02:23 am (UTC)LIAR!!
:)
*snogs you anyway*
You know i lurve you no matter what.
(no subject)
2/19/05 11:46 pm (UTC)Could not care less about Lionel being ashamed and/or embarased, so yeah, he had it coming to him!!
*bats eyelashes* More, please???
:D
(no subject)
2/20/05 02:02 am (UTC)(no subject)
2/20/05 12:05 am (UTC)I'm not going anywhere! ;-)
(no subject)
2/20/05 02:03 am (UTC)(no subject)
2/20/05 01:24 am (UTC)I don't know if Whitney has helped the situation at all. Leaving Lionel like that, well let's jut say that this is not going to endear Whitney to Lionel and once Lionel finds out that Whitney is Lex's "friend" - all hell will break loose. Thanks so very much Whitney *smack upside the head*
Whitney really needs a keeper.
(no subject)
2/20/05 02:06 am (UTC)Whitney really needs a keeper.
I'm sayin'....
Yes, he really needs Clark and Lex to keep him from harming himself and others. But kindd of in his defense,he's still trying to get the hang of this whole "try to think about other things besides yourself, Whit" deal. poor boy.
(no subject)
2/20/05 02:37 am (UTC)“This isn’t interesting anymore, I don’t need to come again—unless you ignore what I told you.”
That isn't good, surely that's more likely to make Lionel misbehave, if he knows he'll be punished for it.
(no subject)
2/20/05 06:46 am (UTC)(no subject)
2/20/05 03:53 am (UTC)Oh geez, if it's Lex, I hope Clark is with him. I fear for him if he's alone.
Okay, so Whitney's plan didn't completely suck. It won't work, or course, but it was lots of fun.
Okay, all caught up and ready for more. :)
(no subject)
2/20/05 06:47 am (UTC)(no subject)
2/20/05 09:34 am (UTC)(no subject)
2/20/05 08:05 pm (UTC)So-- suffciently evil was it? Gooood!
(no subject)
2/20/05 03:45 pm (UTC)Hmm, really curious what's happening next!
(no subject)
2/20/05 08:05 pm (UTC)Oh my
2/21/05 03:56 am (UTC)Always friends!
{{huggles}}