Stand By Me 25b
2/22/05 01:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyI probably should have said 25a on the first bit, hunh? So after this part, Clark said,"Fuck you Rose." But I'm using that gentle persuasion thing on him. And promising a three way after all, plus a big sparkly 1930's musical style finish--but without the singing...and the dancing...and the great big movable sets-- but swear! It'll be fun! (and entirely self indulgent--shut up! at least i warn you...)
When he woke again, the room was bright—dawn was well on it’s way to full morning and the sun made the closed curtains glow .He could clearly make out Lionel in the chair next to the bed—Lex jerked fully awake with a gasp and a ghost of pain running up his arm. There was a dried film of blood coating his arm and a slice gaped wetly, flared into pain as he remembered what happened.
“Awake again. Good. We’re going to continue now.” Lionel stood and flexed the rod. “Are you ready? Not that it really matters, hmm?” Lex breathed in quickly, trying to prepare himself for the lash.
It hissed through the air and struck like fire—the air in his lungs rushed out in a grunt—again and again, he was struck so quickly he had no chance to draw breath, he felt dizzy, blackness rushed in from the corners and he was pathetically grateful.smack Lionel held his head back at an uncomfortable angle. “Wake up. Wake up so you can see it coming,” he snarled, and smacked Lex again.
Lex groaned, he knew he was going to die today. He never doubted it. Clark. He felt so horribly sorry that he was going to die and make Clark suffer. He didn’t want Clark to lose him, not like this. The thought of hurting Clark made tears roll down his cheek. He blinked quickly to clear his eyes—he needed to see, he needed to be aware. Death was coming and he wanted to face it.
Lionel began whipping him in earnest. He laid the rod against him in a fury, hard, methodical strikes that rocked him to his soul. He panted harder and harder, pants turning to groans, groans to gasps…he forgot not to scream, he forgot not wanting to hurt Clark, he forgot everything except Death….
“I’m afraid your life is going to take a dramatic turn for the worse before it comes.” A swooping arc of ice raced through the fire on his back and he knew Lionel had cut a long line from shoulder to shoulder, and again lower, again deeper, and Lex wondered how long he would have to survive this.
The blade drove into him and Lionel rocked it from side to side and Lex howled—it went on forever and ever and then the blade slid, he could feel Lionel’s hand skid in the blood, and sink down to his thigh. The blade slid between his buttocks and stopped. He could feel blood beginning to cool on his skin, the pain came in waves and his mind was full of odd images—stars and ice and cold, cold water, blood and women, girls smiling at him, his cock in wet tight heat, ice cubes on his skin, fingers in him, stretching him, feeling good and suddenly he jerked, was back in his body and feeling like he’d dropped from a enormous height.
Lionel was bent at his side, eyes searching his face. “Oh excellent. You’re back. You’re going to like this part," he said and moved out of Lex’s line of sight. He felt Lionel's hand sticking and pulling at the tacky blood on his skin. He felt something prodding at his hole and he began screaming, all rational thought gone at the cold touch. “Please nonono—daddy daddy don’t don’t!”
Lex felt blood spray up his back and spatter the sheets; a weight dropped on him and he heard someone shouting, yelling, “Bastard bastard bastard” over and over—and underneath it all he heard a dull crunching sound he couldn’t make sense of. The weight lifted, he was pulled free from the bed so quickly it hurt and then Clark was holding him, gasping, patting his face, holding him, rocking him, touching him, holding—“Lex, Lex, oh my God, Lex--"
I'm under my desk now--tbc...
When he woke again, the room was bright—dawn was well on it’s way to full morning and the sun made the closed curtains glow .He could clearly make out Lionel in the chair next to the bed—Lex jerked fully awake with a gasp and a ghost of pain running up his arm. There was a dried film of blood coating his arm and a slice gaped wetly, flared into pain as he remembered what happened.
“Awake again. Good. We’re going to continue now.” Lionel stood and flexed the rod. “Are you ready? Not that it really matters, hmm?” Lex breathed in quickly, trying to prepare himself for the lash.
It hissed through the air and struck like fire—the air in his lungs rushed out in a grunt—again and again, he was struck so quickly he had no chance to draw breath, he felt dizzy, blackness rushed in from the corners and he was pathetically grateful.smack Lionel held his head back at an uncomfortable angle. “Wake up. Wake up so you can see it coming,” he snarled, and smacked Lex again.
Lex groaned, he knew he was going to die today. He never doubted it. Clark. He felt so horribly sorry that he was going to die and make Clark suffer. He didn’t want Clark to lose him, not like this. The thought of hurting Clark made tears roll down his cheek. He blinked quickly to clear his eyes—he needed to see, he needed to be aware. Death was coming and he wanted to face it.
Lionel began whipping him in earnest. He laid the rod against him in a fury, hard, methodical strikes that rocked him to his soul. He panted harder and harder, pants turning to groans, groans to gasps…he forgot not to scream, he forgot not wanting to hurt Clark, he forgot everything except Death….
“I’m afraid your life is going to take a dramatic turn for the worse before it comes.” A swooping arc of ice raced through the fire on his back and he knew Lionel had cut a long line from shoulder to shoulder, and again lower, again deeper, and Lex wondered how long he would have to survive this.
The blade drove into him and Lionel rocked it from side to side and Lex howled—it went on forever and ever and then the blade slid, he could feel Lionel’s hand skid in the blood, and sink down to his thigh. The blade slid between his buttocks and stopped. He could feel blood beginning to cool on his skin, the pain came in waves and his mind was full of odd images—stars and ice and cold, cold water, blood and women, girls smiling at him, his cock in wet tight heat, ice cubes on his skin, fingers in him, stretching him, feeling good and suddenly he jerked, was back in his body and feeling like he’d dropped from a enormous height.
Lionel was bent at his side, eyes searching his face. “Oh excellent. You’re back. You’re going to like this part," he said and moved out of Lex’s line of sight. He felt Lionel's hand sticking and pulling at the tacky blood on his skin. He felt something prodding at his hole and he began screaming, all rational thought gone at the cold touch. “Please nonono—daddy daddy don’t don’t!”
Lex felt blood spray up his back and spatter the sheets; a weight dropped on him and he heard someone shouting, yelling, “Bastard bastard bastard” over and over—and underneath it all he heard a dull crunching sound he couldn’t make sense of. The weight lifted, he was pulled free from the bed so quickly it hurt and then Clark was holding him, gasping, patting his face, holding him, rocking him, touching him, holding—“Lex, Lex, oh my God, Lex--"
I'm under my desk now--tbc...
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
2/22/05 10:31 pm (UTC)