I'm Home, Daddy

By Linda C.

December, 2003

Rating: NC17 (major smut here)
Participants: Lionel/Lex/Clark
Warnings: Bondage, torture, noncon sex (at first), incest, blood Spoilers: Shattered
Sequel: Yes, to my "Hush, Little Baby" archived on SSA Notes: I had just finished reading Secrets by Edieanna, the Queen of Spike/Xander BSDM and it got my little meanness button pushed. And guess who's going to suffer?

Summary: Guess who's home from the nuthouse? And it ain't Johnny!

Lionel woke slowly, head aching. He hadn't had that much to drink last night. Just the one brandy then right to bed when he started feeling sleepy. Odd, that. And why couldn't he move his arms?

"Hi Dad. Glad to see you're finally waking up. Have a nice sleep?"

Lex, Lex was here? His head snapped up, finally realizing where he was. Tied on a chair, naked, in the middle of his penthouse master bedroom. And Lex was standing in front of him, battered and bruised, but in one piece. He looked down, seeing the straightjacket encasing his upper body. His legs were tied to the chair legs with leather straps, buckles shining.

"Clark thought you might like a new jacket, Dad, something along the asylum line, new this fall. Not quite up to your designer threads, but quite the thing in nuthouses these days. I should know." Lionel watched his son's face, seeing only anger and hurt there, not madness. He started as the door opened, Clark entering the room. He wore only a pair of tight leather pants, Lionel recognizing them as a pair of his from the back of the secret closet. His and Dominic's closet. And then he saw the crop hanging from the large hand, swinging back and forth, making his eyes follow its movement. He shivered. And not just in fear.

"You know, Dad, I might have forgiven you for locking me up in that place, but trying to erase my memory, that was a mistake. I have everything on tape and disc. Oh, don't look so surprised. Did you think the safe was the only place I had them hidden away? I'm a Luthor, don't forget. You taught me well. And Darius, good show on his part. Dying in front of me, blood on the floor, trying to protect me from the attacker...there was an intruder, wasn't there? Answer me!" Lionel's head snapped back as Lex's hand connected with his jaw, the crack sounding in the room. The red outline formed seconds later.

"Yes, yes...Morgan hired him to find out that evidence he had given you about his involvement with me in your grandparent's death. That damn videotape. Not smart of him at all. And I knew because he called me right after you left. Old lovers stay loyal when you pay them enough...or love them enough."

Another crack against skin and Lionel had a matching handprint on the other cheek. "Luthors don't love, you've told me that enough times, Daddy. We can never love and no one can ever love us. But you were wrong. I am loved...and cared for...and wanted." He looked over at Clark, seeing the green eyes shining with love, for him.. "I found that out yesterday. When the <slap> only person <slap> who gives a <slap> damn came and rescued me from that hell you had me in. And Dr. Fisher is on my payroll now, Daddy dear, and will certify anyone I want her to. Even you for a time. Just long enough for you to get my treatments, my pain, my ..." he trailed off, Clark coming over to rub his shoulder. "I'm here," quietly whispered. A soft kiss on a turned cheek.

Lionel watched as Lex removed his jacket, hanging it over the back of the loveseat. Soft lavender sweater was next, the cuts and bruises stark against the pale skin. Lionel let out a growl when he saw hand shaped bruises around the waist and shoulders. Who had hurt his son like this? Those had not been his orders...drugs, remove his memory, and dreamless sleep. No one hurt his son. No one. He glared at Clark. Who swung the crop against his thigh.

"Didn't know that some orderlies like to soften up their charges, did you Dad? You can't fight back when your arms are strapped down, and a gag is put in your mouth so no one can hear you scream...when you're raped every night, cameras turned off, staff gone home. When you know your own father put you there for their amusement. Like what you see?" Lex came closer, turning around, posing, fingers pulling down his black pants to show even more bruises around the top of his hips and nail scratches leading down into the soft cleft of his ass. His eyes were damp with tears as he turned to face his father. "You never meant this to happen, did you, Dad, please say you didn't." Lionel shook his head, too ashamed to look at his son any longer.

"Punish me as you see fit. I deserve anything you do to me. I'm sorry, son." He felt long fingers against his stinging cheeks, tracing the tears that had begun to fall.

"Not me, Daddy. Not me. That's Clark's job. He hid me, fed me, defied his parents for me. And always believed me. He came for me, busted down doors, held me, and loved me. He is my instrument, my enforcer tonight. He will soften you for me, make you pliant. You should be used to this, you and your little drone play these games often enough. Master and slave. But you're always the Master, aren't you Dad? Time for a little change in the role-playing. Clark." Lex untied his father's legs, keeping the straps. And Clark just smiled at Lionel as he strode over, leather creaking as he walked.

"Stand up, and don't make me tell you twice to do anything. Now spread your legs, wide, wider..." The crop snapped against his calves, stinging the flesh. He obeyed, balance thrown off as he swayed. The crop bit into his back, even through the jacket's thick covering. Laid down in a perfect crisscross pattern, each crack echoing in the room. Lex leaned back against the loveseat, hands fondling the straps. His eyes followed Clark as he moved behind Lionel, the lift and fall of every stroke. His hand slide down into the front of his slacks, the ridge evident, a small damp spot forming at the base of the zipper. His breathing quickened, harsh and fast as each stroke came harder, both of the whip and his hand. His head arched back, a cry coming out his throat as he came, the smell permeating the room. Clark gave one final stroke, harder than the rest, Lionel knowing that Lex's coming marked the end of this phase of the punishment.

"Take off the jacket and tie him back on the chair. Then come here." Clark moved to obey, jacket ripped off Lionel and thrown on the floor. He was sat back down with a thump, his back on fire as he rubbed against the hard wooden rungs of the chairback. Lex tossed the straps back to Clark who used them to pull Lionel's arms behind the chair and bind them. His legs were left free. His own sex was hard and dripping fluid, an unconscious reaction to the pain, the pleasure of the crop on his back. His son knew him well. Too well.

"Now come and clean me, my beautiful pet. I love you." Clark sank to his knees, teeth pulling down the zipper, then tugging down the slacks until they pooled at Lex's feet. He lifted each foot, removing the shoe and sock, then the trousers, leaving Lex naked and glowing from orgasm. Careful licks of his tongue removed all traces of cum from the hairless groin. He looked up, seeing Lex nod. This was new to Clark, only admitting to Lex last night his feelings, his desires, his...needs. Metropolis had taught him that the darker side of him liked to play rough, but he had never been the sub, only the dom. And he had never fucked anyone or had anyone fuck him. Even in his red delirium, he knew he wanted Lex to be his first.

"Show Daddy, Clark. Show him what he has in store after I'm through with him. Like it, Dad?" Clark rose to his feet, turning to face the man on the chair. And saw him freeze as blue eyes drifted down his chest to his leathers...now straining with the huge erection, clearly outlined in the tight pants, the head grazing the edge of the waistband, trying to break free of its confines. The smell of arousal came off Clark in waves, Lex breathing deeply, knowing the scent was for him, not his father. Clark would only perform for him, do what he wanted, fuck his father into submission. He was Lex's instrument of justice. And he loved him.

Clark stroked the leather, then unzipped carefully. The heavy cock sprung free, slapping against his belly, purple head shining under the foreskin, precum running down the sides, glistening and thick. Lex bent his head, taking it into his mouth, sucking the sweet fluid, savoring it on his tongue. He pushed the pants down, revealing the muscled stomach even more, the deep v that led the eye to the pendulous balls, cupped now in his hand. Clark threw his head back, hips arching, trying to drive deeper into the sucking mouth. Lex pulled back, letting a strand of precum dangle between them. "No. Save it for my father."

Lex walked over to Lionel, stopping with his cock directly in front of his face. "Suck me, Daddy. Make me hard. I know you want to...I've seen the videos of you and my lookalike you hired. Fucking, sucking, rimming 'me' until I screamed out your name. How expensive was he? You could have had the real thing if you had just asked properly...on your knees." Lex had been stroking himself, his sex hardening as he thought of the films, found one night when he had been bored and snooping around in the penthouse. Quite an entertaining evening he had had, drinking and jerking off all night. Too bad his father hadn't made it home that night. He would have loved to reenact some of the more inventive scenes.

"Clark, slick me up, then him." He bent over, arms braced on either side of his father's body, spreading his legs wide for Clark. He hissed as one large finger entered, then two. "Three," he managed to get out, Clark hitting his gland, making him grit his teeth, trying not to come. He had shown Clark this last night, wanting him prepared for today. And he had apparently learned his lesson very well. He glanced over his shoulder, eyes resting on the hard cock sticking out of the zipper, precum still dripping. "Don't come."

He moved back, Clark bringing one hand around to fondle his cock, lube slicking it, then down to the ballsac. Lex jerked his hips, then stilled as he watched Clark lubricate his father's dick, smaller than Clark but just as thick in girth. As Clark moved behind him, an arm grasped his waist for support, lifting him, then holding him steady as he lowered his body onto his father's, legs sliding under the chair arms, feet resting on the floor. Lionel was barely able to breathe, Clark's hand on him almost bringing him to climax. Lex glared at him. "Don't you fucking dare come before you're in me!" whispered out almost savagely.

Hips bucking, Lionel tried to drive into Lex, but the straps held him back. Sinking down, Lex engulfed Lionel in his tight sheathe, a sharp cry coming of him as he was breached. He was sore from the rape yesterday, his flesh still torn and raw. And he wanted his father to feel his pain, and know that he was the cause of it. He felt the skin tear, the blood start to flow as he worked himself harder and harder, hips whipping up and down, head bending back to rest on Clark's taut stomach. His Clark, hands clasping his waist, helping him lift as he tired. His cock, hard and wet, pressing into the smooth surface of Lex's scalp, smearing precum on the soft skin. Lex turned his head, taking the sex into his mouth, sucking, licking. And felt his father swell inside him even more at the sight. With a last plunge down, Lex came, his passage milking the sex inside, Lionel following with a scream of his name. Clark pulled him off, grimacing at the blood drenched cock resting between Lionel's thighs.

"Why did you keep going? You're bleeding again. Idiot." After laying Lex on the loveseat, Clark ran into the bathroom, bringing out a cold cloth to press down on the torn hole. Applying pressure, the flow soon stopped, the towel spotted with blood. A clean one was put in place. "Don't move. Just lay there and let it calm down a little. I'll turn this so you can see." With no obvious strain, Clark moved the entire loveseat so Lex could lay down and observe the next step.

"On your knees, face on the carpet. Like the dog you are, Lionel, ass in the air, waiting to be fucked. Except today, you're the bitch and I'm the stud. And Lex won't even charge you...much...for my services. I wanted Lex to be my first fuck but you'll do...still a Luthor ass. And since I'm doing this in his stead, it is like fucking him."

He looked up, knowing that Lex knew he didn't mean it like it sounded. Their first time together would be making love, not like this. This was punishment for Lionel, and had been discussed last night, wrapped around each other in the hotel room. Just a fuck to be forgotten as soon as the condom came off. Lex didn't get diseased, thanks to the meteor shower, something he was eternally grateful for after the rapes at the asylum, but he didn't want Clark contaminated by his father's sperm in any way. Lionel fucked any hole that was turned his way, whether it bothered the little drone or not, who was often forced, tied to the bed, to watch his lover perform. There had been some truly interesting tapes in that little cabinet that night. And Lex had begun to pity Dominic.

Clark knelt behind Lionel, not even bothering to take off his pants. He slid on the condom he had in his pocket, slicking his cock with the precum he had swiped off, wanting this to hurt, to burn, to tear tender flesh. He gripped the thin hips, nails digging in, nudging the legs open wider with a knee. He looked deep into Lex's eyes...and rammed home, balls hitting Lionel's ass, hearing the scream tear from the older man. He pulled back, pushing in again fast and hard, each thrust meant to punish. He never took his eyes off Lex, locked to his, love pouring into his wounded love's soul. One hand reached down, finding Lionel's cock, again hard, getting off on the pain.

"Sick fucker, aren't you? Like pain, like your son suffering in that prison, going madder by the minute, getting hurt, raped, drugged..." Each word being punctuated by another hard push into the torn ass, blood beginning to drip on the rug, staining it. And Lionel came, seed spewing on the carpet, mixing with the blood. Clark pulled out, dragging Lionel back to rub his face in it. His own cock throbbed, still hard as he coated it with the mixture, then thrust into Lionel's mouth, hitting the soft palate, forcing his way into the throat, not caring if he could breath. He came, hot cum running out of the stretched mouth, as Lionel retched and gagged around the thick column in his throat. He pulled out, wiping his half hard sex on the coarse beard, leaving remnants of cum spattered on it. Lionel collapsed, chest heaving, arms still bound behind his back. His eyes lifted to Lex's, seeing the heat in them. Banked and appeased now as his father's punishment was completed.

Clark rose, cock still shining with cum and spit...and blood. He quickly wiped himself off, then untied Lionel. He left the man lying on the carpet, just a thing to him. He helped Lex get dressed, then zipped himself up. Lex stopped in front of Lionel, foot nudging him. Lionel gazed into blue eyes, so like his own. God, he hurt...and it felt so good. His son was a Master, his sub not that far behind.

"You can keep the jacket."

End