Into the Green
Into the Green
Summary: A short fic that answers three questions from Clark's first memory scene in Memoria: 1) Why did Clark have such a weird look on his face before he was raised into into the air 2) Just where did those red spandex shorts come from that he was wearing and were so obviously not his and 3)Why did he have an erection just before he was dunked?
Spoilers for: Memoria
Pairing: Clark/Other m
Category: Non-con, Episode-Related, BDSMish, also PWPish. Disclaimer: Not mine! Blast! The delicious boy belong to DC comics, Millar/Gough and other assorted entities. Feedback: Encourage my obsession at email@example.com. Rating: NC17
Many thanks to my Sissy, as always, for inspiration and exercise of my overactive muses. I am my own beta so any and all mistakes are my own.
Into the Green
He was falling again.
Sleep was a colorless mist that pulled him down into a deep well of images and flickering light that was somehow flat and bright at the same time, making his pupils contract under their closed lids. As the light lost its flat, unreal quality, it seemed to froth and foam like breakers on the ocean, bathing him in it. He moaned, his limbs twitching as tried to stop himself from that long, long fall. He was falling again, into the green.
He was back at Summerhold, facing down Dr. Garner as he fought to protect his secret and protect Lex at the same time. The doctor smiled smugly as Clark felt a dizzying nausea sweep over him like a thick roiling cloud. A moment later he was on the floor, felled by one of Dr. Garner's assistants and powerless in the grip of the memory well's liquid Kryptonite. Dr. Garner's voice seemed to float somewhere above him as Clark writhed in the bath's green glow.
"You've always been fascinated by my research . . . . now you're going to have the opportunity to become a part of it. Strip him."
Clark gasped softly as he was lifted by several pairs of hands and laid on a cold metal table. He struggled briefly and then the hands were all over him, unbuckling his belt, ripping through his red tee shirt with a flash of sharp, gleaming scissors, yanking off his workboots and socks. His fingers and toes flexed with frightened spasms and he raised his head weakly as his jeans were yanked off. Dr. Garner's face hovered over him, the expression on his face one of clinical curiosity and something else Clark couldn't place. He reached down and ran a hand through Clark's raven hair, which was beginning to dampen and curl with sweat.
"Don't worry, Clark. I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to know who you are."
"Let me go." Clark moaned as the doctor's assistants backed away from the table. Clark's clothes were in a heap next to the metal table and Dr. Garner smiled down at the teenager's helpless body, now clad in a pair of faded blue boxers.
"I'm sure our most generous benefactor would want us to do this right." The doctor snapped his fingers and one of the assistants handed him a pair of red spandex shorts. "Besides, I don't want to ruin your clothing."
Clark squirmed, and Dr. Garner slipped his hands under the waistband of Clark's boxers. They slid down his thighs, past his knees, and then were gone with a whisper of fabric as the older man rucked them gently over his ankles and dropped them onto the pile of clothes on the floor. The coldness of the metal table seeped into Clark's bare skin and he groaned softly. Dr. Garner's eyebrows shot up in surprise as he looked over the boy's naked body.
"Big everywhere, aren't we Mr. Kent." He chuckled, and glanced over at his assistants. They took his silent order and left the room, leaving him alone with his specimen. Smiling in complete satisfaction, Dr. Garner slipped the tight red shorts over Clark's bare feet and pulled them up the long legs until they rested just below his hips. Clark twitched and squirmed at the feel of the man's hands on his thighs, and then his hips bucked off of the table as they slid over his skin and ran up the length of his inner thighs until they were brushing his penis with a light, fluttery caress.
"No! Stop!" Clark cried, his green eyes wide with shock, pain and fear. He could perhaps deal with being kidnapped and stripped, but this . . . his mind was yammering and shrieking like an animal with its leg caught in the jaws of some unimaginable trap. Dr. Garner turned to a nearby table and squirted some lotion onto his hands, coating them thoroughly. He then turned back to the boy, smiling down at him as if he were a frightened child in for his first checkup.
"Relax, Clark. I am a doctor, after all." Dr. Garner whispered softly and the slick, stroking fingers curled into a fist that sheathed his rapidly hardening penis in slippery flesh that slid over his own sensitive skin again and again, pulling, squeezing, stroking until Clark's body responded and an erection rose from his bare thighs. It quivered and twitched, shiny and slick with lotion that reflected the swimmy emerald light of the memory tank. The doctor watched, his expression intent as he swirled his thumb over the head of Clark's penis repeatedly until it pulsed and wept a few drops of pearly pre-come. Clark thrashed and moaned on the table, protesting even as his body strained for more.
"Stop, please! Dr. Garner please . . . " He whimpered, and his pleas aroused the doctor sharply. He reached down and yanked the tight red shorts up the rest of the way, trapping Clark's erection underneath the confining material. Clark gasped deeply as the material rubbed against his super-sensitive flesh, causing it to strain and buck repeatedly. "Uh . . . uh . . . uh!" Clark writhed in an agony of pleasure and pain, his green eyes flashing as they caught the light and his head whipped from side to side. Dr. Garner reached down and cupped the straining flesh hard in his hand, rubbing it with agonizingly slow motions. Clark's hips bucked sharply again and the friction increased, his hips rolling as his body turned traitor, demanding release.
"Please." He sobbed, tears of shame and humilation coming to his eyes and spilling down his cheeks even as his throbbing flesh thumped against the doctor's squeezing hand in a frenzy of need. The doctor smiled at his captive's pleas and leaned over, nuzzling Clark's erection with his lips. His tongue snaked out and flickered across the tented red spandex material, tasting the boy's heat through the fabric. Clark's eyes rolled and his fingers and toes curled, moleten pleasure combined with an unbearable, searing itch deep in his groin. The muscles in his rectum and anus snapped open and shut repeatedly, the contractions causing Clark to whimper. Dr. Garner shifted his position slightly and slipped a hand inside the shorts and under Clark's widely spread thighs to tickle the boy's virgin hole gently. It reacted like a snapping, hungry mouth, closing over the tip of the doctor's index finger and clenching around it tightly. It was slick with the lotion he'd used to coat Clark's penis, and his thick finger slid inside easily. Clark's hips bucked up in shock and his mouth dropped open in a loud, wounded gasp.
"Uhhhhhnuh! Uh . . . no . . . " He hitched, raising his hips off of the table again as Dr. Garner impaled him with one finger, and then another. His tight virgin hole was stretched wide, and the older man leaned over to mouth and nuzzle Clark's erection as he continued to push his fingers into the boy. He angled them up sharply, finding the yielding nodule of the struggling teen's prostate. The doctor backed off and then pushed forward firmly, nudging the fleshy bundle of nerves in slow, even motions. Clark cried out loudly and thrashed weakly, muted squeaking sounds echoing in the empty room as his bare heels slid along the metal table. Sensing the boy was close to orgasm, the older man stiffened his tongue and ran it along Clark's erection as he used the tips of his fingers to wriggle the boy's prostate around in rapid circular motions. It began to twitch and flutter against his fingers and a moment later Clark gave a low, choked cry as his erection jerked twice and began to spill out its load of seed. A slow stain spread across the front of the shorts, and Dr. Garner slowly removed his fingers from Clark's rectum. The muscles clenched hard once more, and then closed tightly. Clark lay quiet, panting hard in both pain and exhaustion. Dr. Garner, ever the fastidious physician, washed his hands before he stepped back over to the memory tank and summoned his assistants back to lift Clark into the apparatus that would carry him to the tank. He snapped the metal restraints tightly around Clark's wrists as the boy lay in a semi-conscious state, his penis still half-hard and more than visible through the tight shorts. As the apparatus was lifted into the air, Clark groaned softly as he had so many times before in this endless dream, where the pain and fear of what he'd endured at Summerhold resided.
It's just another secret, after all, the rational part of Clark's mind whispered and he closed his eyes, knowing that he would wake and dream, dream and wake, many times before morning. He would feel the pleasure, the pain, and be torn asunder again and again only to wake long enough to remember before he fell back into it.
Before he fell back into the green once more.