Author's Notes: While reading Jenn's utterly incredible, utterly hilarious story, "Fetish", several images/snippets popped into my head. Here they are (and the lines that inspired them)! And yes, I did get permission from Jenn to post this.
Thank you, Jenn! Not only for the permission, but for the outright threats! They make me all warm and fuzzy inside. (g)
And thank you to Carolin for the beta!
Smallville got more interesting by the hour. What *was* the town's obsession with stripping its youth down and sending them into random fields anyway? And this was the sort of interesting information that might have made him that much less pissed at being sent here.
-- Lex in "Easy Tonight" by Jenn
~*~*~*~*~*~
"You're sending me where?"
"Smallville. A rather charming little community just south of here."
"There is no fucking way in hell--"
"Did I mention the town has this very interesting . . . tradition . . . of stripping their young men down to nothing and sending them into fields in the dead of night?"
Lex blinked, his lips curving. "When do I leave?"
Luthors need to control their base instincts. Maybe he can take his mother's maiden name.
Luthors don't beg. What was his mom's maiden name again?
-- Lex in "Fetish" by Jenn
~*~*~*~*~*~
"Lex, what in the hell is this?"
Lex glanced at the paper lazily. His smile grew. "A change of name form."
"And why the hell," Lionel asked . . . too calmly. "Would you even want to change your name?"
Lex smirked. "Well, Dad, you know how Luthors don't beg, plead? Luthors control their baser instincts?"
"Yes." The word was bitten off. "So what?"
Smug, smug, completely satiated smile. "Clark turned eighteen last night."
"Fuck."
"Yeah. Well, several times actually."
Hamilton is getting a bonus if he figures out how to replicate this effect.
-- Lex in "Fetish" by Jenn
~*~*~*~*~*~
Hamilton glanced around the empty office, trying to reign in his impatience. The door behind him open. "Mr. Luthor, they said you had another assignment for me?"
Lex sat down in his chair, *very slowly*. Clearing his throat, the young businessman stared at the scientist. "Last night my . . . friend . . . got into some of the meteorite. It had some . . . interesting . . . effects on him. I want you to duplicate them."
"What kind of effects? Can I see him?" Hamilton could feel the itch of new possibilities.
Before Lex could answer, Clark prowled into the room. "You're wearing clothes again," he growled.
"Clark --" Lex gasped as his shirt was ripped off over his head, nearly panting as Clark pushed him back onto the desk. A wide, wet tongue swept over his nipple.
Hamilton stared, frozen in shock. "Ah, Mr. Luthor?"
"Fuck, Clark! Shit, Hamilton, oh God, I'll . . . fuck, Clark . . . I'll fucking give you . . . Jesus Christ! A million dollars if, if you . . . where the hell did you . . . can figure out . . . oh God . . . how to duplicate this – shit!"
"Ah, okay."
Huge, massive lack of ability for Lex to do anything but quietly and sincerely bless his father for sending him to Smallville, because, *God*, who the fuck would have *guessed*?
-- Lex (again) in "Fetish" by Jenn
~*~*~*~*~*~
Daily Planet – Special Edition
LUTHOR ICON'S UNEXPECTED DEATH
Lionel Luthor, doctors report, died this morning of extreme shock. Witnesses stated that the elder Luthor went into shock after a visit from his son, Alexander Luthor. The younger Luthor had rushed into the room and enthusiastically, and repeatedly, hugged his father -- all the while chanting, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Alexander Luthor then kissed his father's cheek before rushing back out.
Investigators have no reason to suspect foul play.
Babbling, babbling, but who could blame him? Woken in the middle of the night, felt up like a two dollar hooker, and half-blown--there should be *laws* against this. Or more specifically, laws against *stopping*. He's running for president. He'll see to that one personally.
-- Lex in "Fetish" by Jenn
~*~*~*~*~*~
Diane Sawyer smiled at the most controversial presidential candidate in the history of the United States. "Mr. Luthor, may I be frank?"
"Of course," Lex murmured congenially.
"Why are you running for president?"
Off camera, evil, evil, evil chuckles could be heard coming from Luthor's raven haired, utterly gorgeous life partner, Clark Kent.
To Diane's surprise, Senator Luthor blushed . . . hard.
"Shut up, Clark!"
He's--going to die. It's going to be in all the papers, everywhere. People are going to envy him. Until they found out he died *still* hard.
-- Lex . . .again. Ditto for stuff above.
~*~*~*~*~*~
"Did you hear about Luthor's kid?"
"What?"
"He died last night."
"Damn, poor bastard."
"No, man, no! It's how he died that's the funny part!"
"What do ya mean?"
"Luthor died while in bed with some young farmboy stud. . . ."
"Damn, lucky bastard! That's a nice way of going out."
"Nah, man, you were right the first time! Poor bastard's more like it!"
"Yeah, why?"
"Dude, the guy died while he was still hard!"
"Damn, poor bastard."
So *fucking* hot, and what *do* they teach smalltown boys these days?
-- Ditto
Okay, yeah, sooooo not touching this one! (eg)
Originally, I wasn't . . . but my Muse is evil. (eg)
~*~*~*~*~*~
Lesson Plans for Friday, April 31
Continue "The Art of Fellatio" Video
-- Recheck Whitney Fordman's technique
-- Check with Clark Kent to see if he has his grade recommendation letter from Lex Luthor
. . .and that mouth is worth the entirety of LuthorCorp. Maybe he could patent it. Keep it safe somewhere. Never let anyone else touch it.
-- Ditto
~*~*~*~*~*~
"Lloyds of London, how may we help you today, Mr. Luthor?"
"I need to insure something."
"Of course, sir. May I ask what it is?"
"Yeah, Clark Kent's mouth."
"I . . . see." Eyes blinking behind thick glasses.
"Yes, and I want a clause somewhere that states that no one, and I mean no one, else even comes near his mouth."
Eyes still blinking. "Of course, sir."
The End
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