Day 1

The phone rang. Lex looked at it in annoyance, having been caught up in the reports from one of his pet projects. The folder full of charts and analyses lay open in front of him, but he closed it as he reached for the ringing phone. It was an outside line and the number of people who had his direct number could be counted on two hands. "Hello?" he greeted, keeping most of the curtness from his voice.

"Luthor." The voice was deep, weighty and familiar. Its owner was not on the list of people who should have this number. Lex felt a complete lack of surprise that he had been able to find it, however. The Gotham vigilante was nearly as irritating as Metropolis's resident alien and would have had the potential to surpass Superman if not for the fact that he kept mostly to his own city.

"Batman." A vague morbid curiosity kept him from hanging up. Anything that brought the Batman out of the hell known popularly as Gotham had to be interesting. Though given the lack of alien airships or giant robots threatening the planet and the fact that the biggest news on CNN was about a bill in Congress, this probably involved something closer to home.

He wondered idly which of his projects was currently causing the League enough consternation to warrant a phone call. Normally, they just sent Superman in to demolish anything they took issue against, but Lex was willing to encourage them in this new policy, if in fact that was what they were doing. He just hoped they hadn't viewed his cooperation in defending the Earth from that last menace as some kind of friendship overture or something equally absurd. He'd made two attempts on Superman's life since then, however, so that seemed unlikely.

The latter of those had been only the previous day, so this may have something to do with that. If that were the case, though, he would have expected a police raid with superhero backup, not a phone call. Since the prototype had proven to be ineffective against the alien, even with the kryptonite power cells, and Superman had managed to destroy it without so much as breaking a sweat, perhaps they were content to issue only a warning this time.

"This is a courtesy call," the Batman stated, nothing in his voice sounding remotely courteous. So it was just a warning. Don't try to kill Superman.Yada yada . Lex restrained himself from rolling his eyes just out of principle. When the Batman continued, however, he gave a rather different commentary. "Superman has suffered some side-effects from the ray gun you used on him last night."

Lex blinked, surprised more by the fact that they were telling him Superman had been incapacitated by his prototype than that there had been delayed reactions. If he had hurt Superman, why were they calling him to chat instead of getting law enforcement involved? "Side-effects?" he repeated, taking the opportunity to ask for more details even if he didn't understand why he was being offered one.

"He has been behaving with increasing anger and aggression since he was exposed to the ray gun. We are uncertain how much longer we will be able to contain him. As he keeps muttering your name, we decided to warn you that he may try to confront you. As you were the primary cause for this change in behavior, we may have left you to his mercy had we not also noticed that green kryptonite, which we know you have surrounded yourself with, makes him only more violent and no longer disables him physically."

Lex's eyes warily tracked to the walls of his office which were subtly imbued with the alien mineral so that Superman always suffered ambient discomfort whenever he came calling. It was possible that the Batman was lying about the reversal of Superman's main weakness, but Lex had observed him destroy the prototype last night with no ill effects, even when his fist slammed through the power core where the kryptonite was.

"We would also like you to give us the plans for the ray gun so that we may look for ways to reverse the effects."

And people said the Batman had no sense of humor. "I don't think so."

"Luthor," the Batman growled low in his throat, "Superman is fast becoming the unstoppable menace you have predicted for years. Give us the plans so we can stop him."

Lex laughed. "And give up the chance to prove I was right? You'll get the plans when he does something the public won't be able to forgive him for."

An unhappy silence filled the phone receiver for a moment, then the Batman's voice warned, "Let it be on your head, then. As I said, we suspect he will come after you first." Lex was given no chance to respond to this as the connection clicked closed and a dial tone came over the line.

Though his penthouse had as much kryptonite in the walls as his office did, the layout was more open and he hoped the greater open space would diffuse any negative affect the rock had on Superman's normally stoic temper. Though Lex could recall a time when the alien was just as irritable as any teenager on Earth (possibly more so), he had aged and matured into a very boring caricature of himself. Some days, that alone made Lex as angry at the alien as anything else.

Lex changed out of his power suit when he reached the penthouse and put on a pair of dark slacks and a pale blue shirt. He settled himself on the couch in the sitting room, since that was one of the largest rooms in his home and the couch was a comfortable place to wait for the inevitable. He opened his laptop to examine the flaws that must have existed in the ray gun's design to pass the time.

He was sipping at his second scotch and frowning at a few baseline assumptions that he was now questioning when there was a crash deeper in the apartment, from where the door out to the balcony was. He sighed and took a larger swig of the alcohol, then looked up in time to see his two bodyguards collapse to the floor, their guns only half-drawn from their holsters. Superman materialized directly in front of Lex, his eyes looking wild and red instead of their more usual frowning blue. He didn't look entirely sane.

Lex took another sip of his scotch and closed his laptop, pretending he wasn't the least perturbed by this development. Putting the computer aside, he asked calmly, "What are you doing here, Superman?"

The alien took the drink out of his hand and tossed it aside. Lex didn't let himself flinch as the glass shattered and fine scotch spilled all over the original Mondrian that it had smashed against. "That was a priceless . . ." His protest trailed off as Superman grabbed him by the shoulders and forcibly lifted him off the couch, turned 180 degrees and set him down on his feet. Feeling faintly ridiculous and somewhat precarious standing on the glass coffee table that sat in front of his couch, Lex found himself looking eye-to-eye at Superman. As the top of the table was eight inches over the floor and Superman was only four inches taller than him, Lex had to glance down to confirm that, yes, Superman was flying.

Without any warning, Superman shoved Lex, pressing the fingertips of both his hands against Lex's chest and just pushing. Lex stumbled backwards and fell awkwardly off the table, as the change of his weight shattered the fragile glass under him. He felt the burn of cuts as glass shards cut into his legs, then grunted as his bottom landed hard on the not-nearly soft enough Persian rug. The air knocked out of him, he fell backwards and lay on his backside as Superman floated down and straddled his torso. The alien looked down and smirked. For all that the Justice League had named Lex a supervillian, he was sure he'd never looked that evil even at his worst.

He scrambled backwards, trying not to wince as his legs fought to disentangle themselves from the frame and glass pieces of the broken table. He twisted around and tried to get back up on his feet so he wasn't so vulnerable, but Superman just kicked him and he was down again, gasping and clutching at the rib that the Superfoot had probably cracked. From his position on the floor, he traced his eyes up the red boots next to his head, up the long blue legs, past the red underwear worn on the outside, over the S emblem on Superman's chest, and up to the face looking down at him from almost six feet above.

Keeping all trace of pain and fear out of his voice, he asked scathingly, "What are you going to do? Kill me?"

Superman spoke for the first time since his arrival. "I might."

Lex tried to sit up, but Superman's foot was there, pushing him back down and then resting flat against Lex's chest, pinning him against the rug. Lex tried to twist away, but Superman just pushed his foot down harder, making Lex still for fear of having his ribcage crushed. He scowled, not at all liking being kept helpless on the floor.

Superman laughed. It lacked the uncontrolled tones necessary to qualify as maniacal, but it was definitely chilling and cruel. A shiver of fear chased down Lex's spine and curled uneasily in his gut. "I'm enjoying having you at my mercy too much to kill you now though."

One of the bodyguards groaned as she fought to regain consciousness. Superman gave her an irritable look, and then the world lurched. Lex blinked against the sudden bright glare. He staggered dizzily, finding himself on his feet again.

"We won't be disturbed here and I can take as long as I like to play with you." Lex focused on Superman at the words, but his eyes didn't stay there long. They drifted to take in the surroundings. Superman had brought them to a large crystalline cave. He was almost positive this was the much sought-after Fortress of Solitude. He'd spent millions trying to find this place. He didn't allow his excitement or interest to show or Superman might realize that it was completely worth being abducted and tortured just to be here. If he was really lucky, he'd get knocked unconscious, Superman would wander away to amuse himself beating up some other villain, and Lex would wake up and be able to snoop.

"What are you, a cat?" Lex asked in disgust, angling for that sought after unconsciousness with as little damage beforehand as possible. "I'm your enemy, not a toy."

Superman was suddenly standing too close, looking down at Lex with a deeply frowning visage. His hand gripped Lex's chin, lifting up and forcing him to stand on his toes. "You tried to kill me," he growled, abruptly angry.

Lex realized belatedly that reminding the psychotic super-powered alien that they hated each other was pushing a little too far and now he was in danger of losing not only his consciousness but his life. He could see the homicidal insanity in those unnaturally red eyes. Heart pounding, Lex sought a way to return the lunatic to his almost playful calm from earlier. Superman had wanted to play with him, right? Fine. As Lex didn't currently find death preferable, Lex let every muscle in his body go lax. Superman's grip on his chin hadn't been meant to hold up all of Lex's weight even with super strength. Surprised, Superman's hand let go and Lex crumpled to the floor. He twisted onto his back to look up at Superman from the freezing cold ground. He preferred his Persian. "True, but you were no fun to play with. I'm far more entertaining." Fuck, that sounded like a bad pickup line.

Double fuck, Superman heard it as one. He could tell that by the way the alien's eyes swept over Lex's prone body and the evil smirk that replaced his angry expression. "Stand up, Lex. When I want you on a horizontal surface, I'll put you on one."

Lex swallowed and reviewed his options. He could stay on the floor out of contrariness, but that was a position of weakness and far from the ideal location to launch an offensive. He could stand, but that would be obeying Superman's order, and that sat wrong with him. He could rise to his knees, but that might imply a submission of some kind, and that was unacceptable. He saw no other options. The lesser evil available was standing as ordered, so he did. He lifted his chin and gave Superman a defiant look so he wouldn't think that Lex Luthor was rolling over that easily.

Superman's smirk only grew. "I believe you're right, Lex. You will be entertaining." He made a beckoning gesture with his fingers. "Come closer."

Lex's heart was hammering in his chest. It was ridiculous. His pulse had hardly accelerated at all when he'd been lying on his rug with a foot on his chest. But then, he'd been home. It had been his territory. Unconscious though they may have been, he'd had people and security there. It had been familiar and he knew all the escape routes. Here, as intriguing an idea as the Fortress was, there was no escape. Even if he did get the drop on Superman, there was nowhere to go.

Worse, there was unlikely to be a rescue. Nobody knew he was here and nobody even knew where here was. Some of the League might have an idea how to get to the Fortress, but once Superman went rogue he probably would have set the defenses against them. They wouldn't risk coming here in Lex's behalf anyway. So long as Superman was occupied with Lex, he wasn't endangering the rest of the population. In fact, neither of them were. It was win-win as far as the League was concerned. His only real hope of survival was to last until a cure was found. How ironic was it that Lex had refused the only people looking for one the best information about what was wrong?

Lex stepped closer. Superman beckoned again and Lex took another step. Superman's hands rested on Lex's waist and the smug look on his face told Lex that he knew Lex would be a wonderful new toy. Lex held his gaze arrogantly, but the hands stayed on his waist until it became an acknowledgment that Lex wasn't going to push them away, even when Superman's thumbs began to rub erotic circles over Lex's hipbone. The hands only moved away when Lex's eyes involuntarily drifted closed as he fought to stave off any kind of physical response to the stimulation. Superman chuckled in his victory and let go of Lex's waist to start unbuttoning the pale blue shirt.

Lex's eyes snapped open as he felt the chill air of the Fortress against his increasingly bared chest. "Clark, don't do this," Lex asked, the entreaty aimed at the teenager he'd once known, the one he tried so hard to forget about, the one who was the reason he hated the alien and yet the one who ultimately kept Lex from being able to actually kill that same alien.

Superman's hands never slowed in the unbuttoning of Lex's shirt. He gave no acknowledgment that he'd even heard Lex's words until the pale blue fabric hung loose off Lex's shoulders, and none at all that Lex had admitted, for the first time, that he knew Superman's secret identity. The alien eyes that looked at him had nothing of Clark in them, and they held none of Clark's human concerns. Lex swallowed his uneasiness down. He would not be intimidated. Superman's finger stroked Lex's cheek and his voice was colored with amusement. "Do not even try to deny that you want this, Alexander Luthor." The way Lex's full name was rolled around Superman's mouth felt nearly as intimate as the fingers that brushed over the vulnerable flesh of his exposed belly.

Lex closed his eyes and did not deny it. If he denied it, he would know whether he was lying or not, and that was a self-awareness he was just as happy not knowing. If he knew he was lying, he would be disgusted with himself. If he knew he wasn't lying, he wasn't sure he'd be able to do what he needed to do to survive. For this, it was best to remain ignorant because neither possibility was palatable.

Instead, he stepped into the touch and prayed to gods he'd never believed in that he wasn't biting off more than he could chew, that becoming Superman's sex toy for however long it took the alien to return to normal wasn't worse than the torture they had both initially expected. Superman's hands - how had he never noticed before how large they were - wrapped around Lex's torso, sliding under the silk of the opened shirt to stay against his skin. Lex rose up on his toes, pressing the front of his body against Superman's as he lifted his mouth up to whisper near his ear. "All those times you pushed me up against walls . . ." Lex had intended to imply a sexual deviancy within the usually straight-laced demeanor of Superman in his right mind, but Superman was pushing him against a wall now, and Lex grunted from the impact and lost his train of thought as the alien tore open Lex's belt and pushed a hand down the back of his pants.

A distant part of his mind lamented that Superman would never be able to push him around again without Lex thinking of this and that would put serious kinks in their working relationship. Most of his mind, though, was already well past any concern over his 'working relationship' with the alien and was gibbering over the fact that Superman was pushing a finger inside Lex's ass. Lex couldn't bite back a verbal cry as his body was violated and his hands, taking over in the face of his knees' weakness and the desertion of any strength Lex was supposed to have in his legs, grabbed hold of the only thing available to help him keep his balance: Superman.

Superman's free hand and his other four fingers of his occupied one steadied him. The fifth stayed where it was, foreign and invasive. Lex's heart beat painfully loud. The only other sound in the great ice cavern was Lex's ragged breathing.

The eerie stillness broke with Superman's harsh laughter. Lex cried out again and hugged Superman closer to his chest, as the finger angled differently and pushed in past the first knuckle, sliding two more inches into Lex's body. Every muscle Lex had trembled with the knowledge of that finger's promise. Every blood cell vacated his face, brain, hands, arms, and legs. He could feel his skin, white-pale and tingling from the hasty departure. His penis hurt from the speed and fullness of its engorgement.

"It occurs to me, Luthor," Superman stated, voice rich with amusement, "that your problem all these years has not been the stick up your ass, but the lack of one." The finger pulled out half an inch then pushed back in as deep as the last knuckle would allow. Tears blurred Lex's vision because no lube had as yet made an appearance and the friction of the finger's passage was agony. He suspected it had been able to go as deep as it had only with the aid of alien strength. Disturbingly, the pain did not lessen his hard-on in any significant way.

The finger abruptly left him, and he unwillingly let another sound escape him as his body resisted the removal as much as it had the entrance. He couldn't keep up with the speed of the encounter. This was, in part, excusable due to the superspeed of his partner, but even as he was bent over a previously non-existent long banquet table with a tablecloth just a few shades lighter than LuthorCorp Purple, his mind was still reeling over the part where his body decided of its own accord to get hard instead of scream in terror and horror like any other person on the planet would do when they got finger raped by the psychotic alien that they have actively hated beyond reason for more than a decade. He barely noticed the complete removal of his shirt, dropped onto the table beside him, but his whole body jerked from the force of it as his pants and underwear were yanked down, just far enough to give Superman access to his ass and no further.

Lex twisted around to see that Superman was still fully dressed in his uniform, but he was aroused to the point where there was a definite outline of a penis against the red outer-underwear. It became even more obvious when Superman rubbed his clothed crotch against Lex's exposed buttocks in a preview for what was to come. "Fuck," Lex cursed, futilely trying to bite it back. The word was no louder than a whisper, but it carried his lack of power, his lack of control, and his awareness that there was none of either for him here out into the air where Superman could hear them and relish in his dominance.

Superman held him down with nothing but his fingertips in the small of Lex's back. Two fingers hooked under Lex's waist and lifted his ass up against the spandex encased dick. It pushed between Lex's cheeks to press against the small hole there and Lex squeezed his eyes closed, braced himself against the table, and pressed his face against the smooth but wrinkled fabric of the tablecloth as he wondered if Superman was going to fuck him while still fully clothed. "Fuck," he whispered again, his voice small and unrecognizable to his own ears, as Superman thrust against him, sliding him further onto the table instead of just bent over it. His knee banged against the edge with the next thrust and after the third, that knee was on the table, bracing him, and he realized Superman was now kneeling behind him on the table.

Superman sat back on his heels, but kept Lex where he was, with his ass up in the air, his bare chest and the side of his face flat against the table he was about to be fucked on. His legs were bound by his own pants that were only pulled down enough to allow one of Superman's legs between Lex's. One of Superman's hands continued to hold Lex's hips in place but, with the other, he ran a finger from the middle of Lex's spine, down the vertebrae to the top of his ass. Once there, the finger delved down the crack, moving slowly, letting Lex feel the digit against the inside of both of his cheeks. Lex's heavy cock wept from the sensation and had Lex been anyone else, his eyes would have probably followed the example of his cock.

His mind still vacillated back and forth between self-disgust for his own arousal and relief that his body was ready and able to follow the survival plan. If he were very lucky, and far more sexually depraved than he'd ever believed of himself before now, he might even find it enjoyable.

The finger paused briefly over Lex's perineum, circled it once, then continued down to the back of his ball sac. The pants got in the way after that, so the hand traced around Lex's thigh instead and gripped Lex's aching penis. Superman only stroked once, pulling down testingly, like a farmer getting the feel of a cow's tits, when impossibly, horrifyingly, mortifyingly, Lex's body clenched, white light pooled behind his eyes, shot down his spine and he shuddered and collapsed in his release.

Superman held him up, kept him in the position he wanted, but he chuckled and dipped his fingers in the spilled semen. "If this was what you wanted all this time, Lex, you should have just asked." White fluid coated his middle and fore fingers as he moved them away from the puddle and pressed them into Lex's body. Lex hissed at the stretch and burn of their entry, but at least it no longer felt like his anal walls were likely to tear apart under the friction. "Acting like an asshole isn't the best way to offer yours."

It was fortunate that Superman did not seem to want or expect a response to this because, under the circumstances, every retort Lex could come up with was likely to return them to the kill-Lex scenario instead of the fuck-Lex one. As that was not in line with his long term plans, Lex kept his vocalizations to the non-verbal sounds his body seemed to think were an absolutely necessary response to the fingers moving inside him. Superman's approval of that line of non-conversation was obvious in the gentling of his motions and the warmth in his voice as he said, "That's right, Lex. See how much better this goes when you just tell me what you need?" Lex gasped as Superman's fingers touched a place that made his vision fade out and if he hadn't just come, he was sure that would have set him off. "Liked that, didn't you?" Superman continued, indulgently. "If you'd just said you wanted me to fuck you instead of fight you, we could have both been much happier."

Superman's fingers pulled out and reached down to scoop up more of Lex's come. Lex turned his head to look behind him as Superman's other hand released him as well. Though this was probably his last chance to scramble away and prevent Superman from fucking him, Lex stayed as he had been put. There was nowhere to go. He watched as Superman's clean hand undid a few hidden clasps and released his cock from his costume. Lex supposed, practically speaking, Clark had needed to put in something like that so he didn't have to get completely undressed every time he had to piss, but that didn't mean he had to like that he was going to get fucked by Superman while he was still mostly dressed in that despised uniform.

"Clark?" Lex asked, trying to keep his voice as neutral as possible so he didn't spark another bout of fury while he was in this vulnerable a position. "Would you mind stripping completely before fucking me?" In case Superman took issue with Lex's hatred of the uniform that symbolized all the wrongs they'd both committed against each other, he added, "I want to feel more of your skin."

The superhero's unnaturally red eyes looked down at him, appearing saner now, but Lex felt a chill even beyond the cold air as their gazes met. He continued to slick his cock with the handful of semen, then positioned the tip against Lex's hole. "I know what you want, Luthor. And you'll get it." He began pushing the tip inside with a pleasured groan as Lex's body yielded against Lex's will. "Just not yet," Superman finished, grabbing Lex's hips with both hands and pulling back even as he thrust forward. Lex screamed as he took all of the Superdick all at once. For the first time since he was a child, tears ran unchecked down his cheeks from the waves of fiery pain that pulsed through out his body, spreading out from his ass.

Deep inside Lex now, Superman released his hips and snaked one arm around the bald man's waist, holding him close, keeping the alien penis trapped within Lex. The other hand ran up his side, sliding over Lex's skin, stroking it until the hand slipped beneath Lex and found his limp cock. Superman chuckled. "Too rough for your first time, baby?"

That was too much. Lex was willing to let a lot slide in the interests of survival, but not that. "I'm nobody's baby and certainly not yours," he gritted out.

Superman only laughed again. "So you do have some spirit left in you. Good. I almost thought you were going to let me make you my bitch without a fight." He squeezed his fist around Lex's dick and rocked his hips re-igniting the dulling pain in Lex's ass. Lex cried out, no longer able to control his own responses. His right hand gripped a handful of tablecloth while his left closed around only air. "Defy me, Luthor," Superman challenged. His hand squeezed again, bringing fresh tears to Lex's eyes. "I'm going to fuck you so hard you bleed. I'm going to fuck you until you've paid for every wrong you ever did. I'm going to fuck you until you know who you belong to now. So defy me, Luthor, so I know when to stop."

Lex knew the wise course of action would be to utterly submit. He knew Superman was spoiling for a reason to hurt him, to fuck him bloody and without mercy. He was in no position to fight back, there was no guarantee that in his uncontrolled psychotic state Superman wouldn't kill him once he began to fuck in anger. Psychosis fed off itself. Once Superman began hurting there'd be little chance he'd stop. Lex knew that.

But between his Luthor genes and Lionel's upbringing, Lex almost literally couldn't refuse a challenge, couldn't let another person claim that much of him. "I'll never belong to you," he growled in spite of his better judgment.

Superman's hands both moved to Lex's hips again, gripping him bruisingly hard. Lex tried to relax his body as much as possible and he attempted to brace himself against the table. He closed his eyes and tried to distance his mind from his body. Superman's dick pulled most of the way out of him and for a moment, nothing happened. The air seemed to hold still for a suspended moment in time. And then Superman howled and he began to fuck in earnest.

Tears streamed unchecked down his face as Lex begged for his release, but Superman just thrust in and out of him with powerful tireless strokes, coming several times himself though each time he stayed hard and kept fucking with barely any pause, the come seeming to be more to re-lubricate than provide release.  "Please," Lex begged, throat sore and voice ragged, "Please, Clark, let me, Superman, please,Kal-El."

"You wanted kinky Kryptonian sex," Superman reminded him after what seemed like days but was actually only four hours since he began massaging Lex's foot.  "Well, now you've had it."  With that, he took off the cock ring and thrust into Lex's body four more times as it shuddered and quaked with the most powerful release Lex could remember ever having.  The fragile thread his consciousness was hanging onto was sundered as Superman's final thrust signaled his own forceful orgasm.