Possession - Kal-El - Chloe - NC-17 - 01/01
Hey lilbreck there be pron here! You should really be careful what you wish for! It's waaay belated for a birthday giftfic and really dark, but I hope it entertains anyway. And dear unsuspecting readers, twistedlyn had an adorably evol little idea that nudged this story to become even darker, don’t blame her though, I ran with it in a direction she totally should have, but probably didn’t expect.
Title: Possession
Author: ivorykiss
Rating: NC-17 (graphic imagery, sex and violence)
Pairing: Kal-El and Chloe
Disclaimers: I don’t own anything. The title and moodlets of this are from Possession by Sarah McLachlan.
Word Count: 3556
A/N: This dark little piece is an Alien!Overlord! AU set some hazy time in the future. Comments are always welcome.
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and I would be the one
to hold you down
kiss you so hard
I’ll take your breath away
and after, I’d
wipe away the tears
just close your eyes
Chloe cried out as she stumbled and fell; sliding a bit on the carpet as she landed hard. She ignored the sting of rug burn on her bare skin, just as she ignored the fright and anger that threatened to overwhelm her, and pushed herself up on shaky arms.
“Please god and live,” the women had hissed as they shoved her into the room and hastily pulled the door closed behind her.
She chewed on her lower lip and glanced quickly around her, the racing of her thoughts were mirrored in the frantic way her eyes searched the room for anything, an escape, a weapon, clothes… oh god, maybe even a fucking clue to why yesterday the world went mad.
It had been Dark Thursday all over again, and for the millionth time since she had awakened to this surreal Stephen King-esque apocalypse rabidly tinted through a John Norman filter; Chloe longed for Clark.
Civilization had crumbled insanely fast; she had lost contact with Mrs. Kent in Washington early on, the last conversation she had with her, a bare thirty or forty minutes after the appearance of this ‘Bethgar’, the cell phone’s reception had been so full of static and echoes that the only thing that she could make out clearly of what the elder woman had said to her before the connection had gone dead was: “My son.”
She should have left the apartment then, but at that point she still had the news reports, as ominous and crazy as they were, and Chloe was positive that Clark would show up at any second and protest the sudden arrival of this ‘savior’ from the stars, to protect them from this careless ‘god’ who methodically swept through all the capitals of the world and destroyed all of Earth’s weapons of war and left anarchy in his wake.
But, those hopeful minutes lengthened into hours and it was the ground shaking rumble of the ICBM’s launching from the cornfields of Lowell County that made her think that maybe he wasn’t aware of what was happening in the world.
Was it bad luck or ironic timing that Clark had left not quite two days ago to finish his training?
Those quakes and rumbles of the missiles launching had spurred her into action. She had to get to the Fortress.
The world needed Clark. She needed Clark.
Chloe had grabbed her parka and had pushed her little Yaris to its limits as she sped from the Talon apartment towards the Kent Farm and the octagonal key hidden there.
She had been caught several miles from the farm; she didn’t even suspect the box truck and the station wagon angled and tangled in a heap of twisted metal in the middle of the road was any sort of a trap and she blinked in surprise when she stepped from her car and she was suddenly surrounded by eight men.
There was an adolescent wildness in their eyes as they grinned and pointed their guns at her and Chloe had struggled futilely as two of the younger men stripped her.
She was certain she’d be raped and left for dead on the side of the road, but one of the older ones nodded to those who held her and they only gagged her before they tied her wrists behind her back and dragged her around the wreckage. Chloe was appalled to see several young women stripped, bound and gagged, just like her, piled haphazardly in the ditch line beside the road.
“This is insane,” Chloe thought wildly as one of the men shoved her and when she landed hard on a couple of the young women, they’d whimpered their discomfort from behind their gags.
She shifted a little and earned herself a look of pure hatred from the woman she’d elbowed in the chest when one of the guards kicked at the brunette who had moaned the loudest and barked out, “Quiet! Save your moans for the god.”
Chloe shivered despite the heat of the day and the bodies of the girls huddled together, and she closed her eyes and listened as the men talked between themselves and idly ogled the naked women bound in front of them.
The men’s talk didn’t really tell her anything she didn’t know already: He had arrived early this morning, one who some called Bethgar, some called god, and had taken over the world. Earth’s weapons had been nothing against his incredible powers.
She opened her eyes and stared straight upward. There were a few fluffy white clouds lazing across the serene blue Kansas sky, but if she shifted her gaze a little, she could see the edges of dark clouds coming from the direction of Metropolis.
She closed her eyes again and swallowed hard against the gag. This was beyond surreal; Chloe would have never believed that Earth could have been taken over in less than a day.
Chloe jerked, startled as she grabbed by her forearm and lifted to her feet. A dark hood was shoved over her head and secured loosely around her neck, then she heard the sound of an engine starting, revving and the noise became deafening as it drew closer.
She could smell the exhaust through the dark material covering her face, could feel the gravel that peppered her body as the vehicle slid to a stop near her, then she was suddenly thrown over a lap and the world became a jarring, stinging universe.
The driver, a young man, had laughed and talked continuously as he maneuvered the four-wheeler through fields and brush with reckless abandon. His voice was tinged with awe as he recounted, as much to himself as to her, his audience with the keepers of divinity, his commands from the god, the Bethgar, who had been sent here to rule them with strength.
Eventually they stopped and Chloe had no idea of where she was. She was handed off to a group of older women, some of which she was stunned to recognize as Kawatchee, when they released her from the hood but not her gag or her bonds and urged her, none too gently, along an artfully manicured path that ran through an extensive and expensive looking floral garden.
She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the absurdity of it all when the greyed and ivy covered stones of the Luthor Mansion came into view.
At least she knew where she was.
Could Lex have returned from the ‘dead’ and caused all this havoc?
Anything was possible; after all, this was Smallville.
Angry, frightened and bordering on shock, she didn’t fight the women who led her through the huge hallways to a large indoor pool room, full of steam and an earthy, sweet smelling smoke that made her sleepy.
She stared numbly as they showed her their knives, crystalline blades sharp, hilts carved with symbols she recognized as Kryptonian, before they released her wrists and removed the gag from her mouth and she didn’t fight the women who forced her to first bathe and then lie upon a table covered with the white skin of a wolf.
A strong longing and a strange sense of power washed over her and suddenly Chloe wanted to see Clark so badly she ached.
Chloe bit back a sob and welcomed the oblivion the older women blanketed her with, and she drifted, lulled as they rubbed scented oil into her skin and chanted words over her in a rhythm that was crazily soothing despite being stark and guttural.
She had no idea of how much time had passed when they woke her with rude shakes and she tried to make some sense of their harsh whispers as they ushered her to the top floor of the castle and propelled her into a room with ‘god’.
Chloe suspected, despite the awe of the man who brought her here and the sycophantic words the women hissed at her before shoving her through the doorway, ‘god’ was just another Kryptonian.
But the only Kryptonian she wanted to see right now was Clark and Chloe blinked back the tears threatened to blur her vision. She took a deep breath; tears would not help her reach the caves and the portal to Clark’s Fortress.
She pushed herself up further off the floor, her knees spread to steady herself, and then instinctively froze when she noticed him standing motionless by a huge arched window.
Chloe trembled; the room nearly vibrated with energy and it was hard not to be awed by sensations bombarding her senses as she struggled against the dawning awareness of the impossible.
He was an imposingly tall figure, carved out of gilt and shadow, his head tilted upward in deliberation of the sunlight that poured so ardently over him.
Then he turned his head towards her and the impossible took her breath away.
God wore the face of Clark Kent.
Chloe slowly sat back on her heels as the room threatened to spin. Her heart beat wildly in her chest and she could only stare at him open mouthed as he walked towards her.
He moved with predatory grace on his bare feet. His black silk shirt was unbuttoned, and the edges fluttered and opened as he walked, giving her teasing glimpses of his muscular chest and a curious angry looking scar marking it.
The matching black silk sleep pants that he wore rode low on his hips, embraced the unmistakable shape of the impressive outline of his cock and hugged the powerful musculature of his thighs.
Chloe trembled and licked her lips; valiantly ignoring the sudden stab of pure and primal want, and tried to focus.
She could understand why they called him a god. He was, after all, the most powerful being on this planet and he whether he was aware of it or not, he always had an astonishing beauty that was beyond mere humans.
He stopped scarce inches in front of her and she looked up as he towered over her. He tilted his head to the side as he studied her with frost green eyes; their once clear ivy green was rimmed with the sparkling blue of hoarfrost.
Chloe closed her eyes against that appraising gaze and swallowed hard. She trembled and tried to ignore the traitorous awakening of her body.
The vibrating want mixed with her fear and confusion and anger; fused into a heady mixture, rushed through the very cells of her body, threatening to overwhelm her.
She could understand why they called him a god. What she couldn’t understand was why he let them.
Not two days ago, he had held her hand as they sat on the porch steps to the old farmhouse, and watched the sun set. He had told her that it was time he finished his training and he didn’t know when he would return, but that he would miss her terribly and he hoped she wouldn’t forget about him.
Chloe had smiled through her tears, proud of this step towards accepting his destiny even if was away from her and she watched as he blurred away into the darkness, hoping, like she always seemed to do, that someday he would fly back to her.
She had envisioned their reunion, even though it had only been a few days since they’d parted. This scenario never crossed her mind.
Her naked, on her knees in front of him as he towered over her like some myth come to life.
It was beyond scary and insanely thrilling.
She opened her eyes and whispered.
“Clark?”
His expression was unreadable as he suddenly reached down and fisted his hand in her hair.
“I know you.”
She winced and grabbed at his forearm as he dragged her up off her knees and held her up on her toes as he named her.
“Chloe Sullivan.”
She nervously licked her lips, an unintentional invitation he didn’t hesitate to accept.
She slid a little against his body and the strong, large fingers of his hand curled possessively around her neck as he pulled her against his body and captured her mouth in a brief, territorial kiss. His teeth scored her bottom lip as he broke away.
A ghost of a smile played at the corner of his lush mouth and primal hints of crimson gleamed in the depths of his eyes as he looked down at her.
She swallowed hard; every inch of her skin that was in contact with his tingled. She was hyperaware of every masculine angle and curve of his powerful body pressing against her.
Despite the heady and intoxicating way her body seemed to melt against his she brought her hands to his chest and pushed.
Chloe couldn’t help but notice his sharp intake of breath and the way his body jerked against hers as her hands skimmed along the raised and angry looking mark branded into his chest.
She traced along an inside curve of the scar and she felt him shudder again. She fought the shocking impulse to kiss the abused flesh beneath her hands and horrified at its brutal beauty, a whisper escaped her, “Oh god, Clark! Who did this to you?”
His hand tightened on her neck and Chloe looked back up at him in alarm. His eyes flashed in annoyance as he snarled.
“I am Kal-El. He saw it as a punishment. I wear my House symbol with pride.”
Chloe gaped up at him. “Clark…”
He narrowed his eyes and cut her off with a gruff. “I am Kal-El. He ignored his destiny. He ignored his comfort. He was weak. I am not.”
“Stop it!” Chloe protested, “Clark and Kal-El are the same.”
“No. We are not,” he assured her. “Clark is integrated within me; I would be as idiotic as he, if I were to deny that he was a part of me,”
His mouth curved into an arrogant smirk, “Clark was. I am.”
Chloe shuddered as he ran his hands lightly down her arms.
“I am not weak or fearful. Do not make the mistake of thinking you and I will have the same relationship.”
She gasped as he turned her lightening fast, sliding a large hand across her belly, molding her back to his front and she trembled as he lowered his head and spoke softly against her ear. “I will not deny this bond between us.”
He took a deep breath as if memorizing her scent and continued, “As weak as he was, I will give him credit for control. Even now the need to be inside you burns in my veins.”
He bit at her earlobe as he rocked the rigid length of his erection firmly against her lower back. “How he kept from burying himself inside you all these years is a testament to his foolish control.”
“I have neither the inclination nor the,” Chloe trembled, his breath caressing her skin as his voice dropped half an octave, “desire to deny myself the comfort of your body.”
He gently brushed the hair away from the nape of her neck and pressed a soft kiss there as he mused, “I know you can feel your body ready itself for me. The witches seek to control what they cannot comprehend. Where should I mark you?”
His words made no sense and Chloe bit back a moan as he trailed one large hand up her body to cup her breast.
“I don’t understand,” she gasped as his thumb brushed and toyed with her nipple.
He turned her again in his arms and lifted her easily.
“I don’t understand,” she repeated frantically as he carried her across the room to a low couch strewn with the pelts of several wolves.
“Not yet. But you will.” He promised and in the blink of an eye Chloe found herself on her back with the intoxicating solid weight of him pressing into her.
A small possessive growl escaped him as he bit into her shoulder, slid one large hand between her thighs. He pressed against the heat between her legs.
Chloe cried out and arched helplessly against him as pleasure and pain raced through her.
“Your body will be a haven for me.”
He had promised to make sense, but instead he licked and kissed her down her shoulder and cupped her sex in his hand.
Chloe clutched at his hair as his mouth rained sharp, soft kisses across her breast, down the curve of her belly. His tongue explored her navel as his fingers curled and explored her moist folds.
She wriggled and gasped as he slowly pushed his two middle fingers into her.
“You will bear the symbol of my devotion and my children with honor.”
He moved his head lower and Chloe felt his breath against her sensitive skin.
“I will make you an El. I will make you Bythgar.”
Chloe tried to think through the chaos of the emotions and sensations that threatened to overwhelm her.
Then it didn’t matter that there was no sense to be made of his words because his mouth and tongue and teeth were against her clit, his thick fingers working in and out of her and Chloe moaned as pleasure narrowed the universe.
Her only warning that reality was going to shift again was the sudden withdrawal of his fingers and the tightening of his arm across her belly.
She whimpered as he lifted his head and licked his glistening lips. His hand trailed wetness up across her thigh and tightened on her hip and he held her immobile as his eyes sparked, green and blue morphing into crimson and white hot flame.
“Mine,” he growled as fire erupted from his eyes and he etched his symbol into her body.
Chloe threw back her head and screamed.
Screamed at the agony.
Screamed at the smell of her flesh burning.
She sobbed and writhed as steel held her bound and fire forged the universe.
Then his mouth was pressing against her wounded flesh and it was bliss.
She sobbed again as his tongue soothed the fire agony and sensation ravaged her. She shuddered as cold and warmth seeped into her, seeped into the very cells of her body, changing her with every stroke of his tongue.
Chloe could almost grasp this change in her, a change that stretched her limits, her perceptions of reality as pain and pleasure mutated into an ecstasy that shook her to her core.
Then his body was covering hers and he was pressing into her, his thick cock stretching more limits.
She clutched at his shoulders and he smothered her cries of adjustment with a kiss that was as demanding as the incessant pump of his hips, pressing her deeper into the furs, pushing more of the thick length of him inside her.
He broke the kiss as he withdrew from her. He buried his face against her neck, his cock deep into her body and his deep groans vibrated against her neck as he trembled and thrust.
Chloe held him and that earlier strange sense of power flooded her anew.
He had claimed her. He had marked her.
But he was hers just as much as she was his.
She cried out as pleasure beyond her previous understanding inundated her and he snarled and threw his head back; baring the strong line of his neck to her as he thrust faster, harder.
Her arms tightened around him and the last thing Chloe saw before everything overwhelmed her was the fire that pulsed from his eyes as he shuddered and screamed his release.
When she awoke he had rolled to his back and had pillowed his head on one forearm. His other arm held her flush against his side.
Chloe rubbed her face against his chest and smiled at the rumble of masculine contentment that escaped him. The scent of smoke and sex clung to his skin, a heady, primal combination of smells she knew she was already addicted to.
She took a deep breath and power thrummed in the very cells of her body. She shuddered as his hand wandered to her hip and his thumb absently stroked the symbol he branded into her skin.
It should have frightened her, this energy that vibrated between them, this knowledge that she was no longer just Chloe Sullivan any more than he was just Clark Kent, or even Kal-El.
He had changed her, imprinted on her, when he claimed her. They were tangled together in a way she never thought possible.
And it thrilled her in a way that she never would have believed.
She lifted her head and studied his handsome face.
“What are we?” she asked wonderingly.
His hand slid up her body and curled around her neck. He tugged her face closer to his.
“I am Kal-El.”
His nostrils flared as he drew in a deep breath and a hint of a smile played at the corner of his mouth.
“You are Chloe Sullivan.”
His smile widened and revealed the wickedly sharp tips of his teeth; and before he pressed his mouth to hers, he said simply.
“We are Segeeth.”
~fin
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