Summary and Disclaimer in Prologue
A/N - This is most likely going to be the last chapter about Lex in Metropolis posted here, just because the rating will soar! However, the unedited version will go up on the NC-17 board at naughty-seduction.net, as usual anyone that wants the link can e-mail me and I'll send it to them or give them directions how to join. Hopefully this won't disrupt the flow of the story too much, its just going to be more Chloe focussed for a while. Please R&R what you read, because it helps to keep me writing if I know people are reading it and enjoying it. xxx
Chapter 6
The private elevator was furnished on all sides with floor-to-ceiling mirrors, and Lex had the peculiar sense of watching innumerable replicas of himself stretch away into infinity. Even the door was reflective, and so he couldn't avoid looking at himself endlessly repeated until his eyes couldn't process the sight any further. Thankfully his hangover had worn off; otherwise the experience of looking at the back of his own head might have made him more than a little ill. He smoothed the fabric of his costume slightly self-consciously and gave himself a final check over.
He was dressed in clothes appropriate to a young aristocrat in pre- revolution France. A high necked black ruffled shirt, with wide sleeves that gathered at the wrist before tumbling in several layers over his hands, emphasised the pallor of his skin, an effect heightened by a layer of pale powder on his head and neck. A long waistcoat the color of blood accompanied the shirt, and a longer coat made of stiff black velvet with embroidery to match the waistcoat. A pair of knee-length breeches matching the coat, black stockings and buckled shoes completed his outfit. Slung at his waist, under the jacket and over the waistcoat, was a many-thonged whip made of hardened leather, with cruel knots at the end of each trailing length. He had scorned the period-appropriate affectation of a wig, and carried the three cornered hat that matched his coat. Both jacket and hat were embroidered along the edge with the device he had chosen, crossed sets of handcuffs in a brilliant vermilion. Lex had been surprised by the ease with which he had applied the black eyeliner and lip paint that brought out the hard planes of his face, making him look severe and ruthless. He supposed that those were skills that he'd never quite forgotten from his wild past. On his coat, over his heart, was emblazoned the coat of arms of the Marquis de Sade.
The theme of the party was 'Heaven in Hell', and he had ordered his costume especially from the best theatrical costumier in Metropolis. He had run through various options before settling on the final design. The most obvious choice had been Damian, the antichrist, since everyone knew that his father was Satan himself. Lex had disregarded that because the thought of walking around with 666 emblazoned on his head was not exactly appealing. He had briefly toyed with the idea of the Viscomte de Valmont from 'Les Liaisons Dangereuses', finding the idea of evil redeemed inherent in the character very appealing. But the fact that the redemption had arisen through the love of a good woman had put him off the idea, and led his thoughts in directions he didn't want to go. It had, however, reminded him of a person of the same period who was ideal, a person who would be most likely to find heaven in hell.
He remembered the furore over the illicit copy of 'Justine' that Bruce had smuggled into the school dorms. It was exactly the kind of material that would have been considered highly inflammatory and unsuitable for young men of rank and breeding, and in its own, badly written but enthusiastic way, it was. Bruce had been taken in to the housemaster's room and caned for it, whilst the old boys' network that ran the school looked the other way. Bruce had commented later, examining his crisscross marked butt in the bathroom mirror, that if they'd actually read the book then they probably wouldn't have chosen caning as an appropriate punishment. Lex's lips quirked at the memory, causing an infinite number of selves to smirk back, just as the elevator doors parted in front of him. He was looking forward to seeing Bruce after all.
At first it was hard to make out what lay ahead of him through the doors. Dry ice swirled in what seemed to be a dark passage. Walking forward cautiously, he made out the shapes of three tall, extraordinary women, effectively blocking the hallway ahead. They were dressed as the Furies of Greek legend, wearing floor length capes with nothing underneath except for bodies that would make the average playboy centrefold cry with envy. There was a blonde, a brunette, and a redhead, each with realistic looking snakes in their hair and tears of blood on their cheeks. They all held scourges, striking a pose that recalled an S&M version of 'Charlie's Angels', and that was altogether highly erotic.
Just as Lex was clearing his throat to ask admittance to the party, a red light flashed on at the end of the passage, making the mist seem to swirl eerily. Lex could make out the silhouette of a huge bird-like creature in front of the light. The figure languidly flapped its wings, drifted down to the floor and walked towards him and the women. They fell back respectfully and Warren Worthington III, dressed in long red robes and adorned with huge white dove-like wings, swept between them, holding his arms out in greeting.
"Lex! Its been too long." Lex gladly stepped into the embrace, marvelling at the soft warmth of the wings against his hands.
"Warren! That's quite an entrance you made!" Dropping his arms, Warren grinned at the older man, blue eyes twinkling.
"That's only the start of it, my friend. Wait until you see the wonders I've got in store for you. Do you like them, by the way?" Warren fluttered the wings gently, causing a light breeze to waft over Lex.
"I love them. I take it you're Lucifer?"
"What more appropriate costume than the Fallen One for your humble host?" Warren parted his blonde hair to show two tiny horns on his forehead. "And you are..." He stepped back to get a better view, taking in Lex's costume from head to toe. "Ah, I should have guessed. The Marquis. Its a wonderful costume, Lex. Very striking."
"Not as striking as yours, Warren. Where did you get those wings? They look so real." Reaching out, he ran his hand over the edge of one, which seemed to shiver beneath his touch.
"My father gave me them." Something in Warren's handsome face suggested that he wasn't telling the whole truth, but Lex chose not to enquire further.
"Well then, lead on, Icarus." Warren slipped his arm around Lex's shoulders and led him past the Furies, who respectfully bowed their heads as they passed. "What's the party in aid of, anyway?"
"I'm going to college." Lex stopped dead and looked at the younger man in amazement. "I know, I swore that I never would, but this place is special."
"It must be. Don't tell me you're going to reform." Lex laughed genially, and they continued down the passage. He already felt far more relaxed than he had done in days.
"Its a private school in upstate New York. I'm going to give it a chance, see what happens." Warren stopped in front of the first door on their left and rested his fingers on the handle. "Now, the grand tour. Each room has a theme. The only rules are: number one, your actions, however..." he flicked his eyes over Lex's costume, "libertine, must be appropriate to the theme of the room. Number two, all parties must consent to all events that they are involved in. And number three, so long as the first two rules are abided by, anything goes." With another matinee-idol smile, Warren turned the handle to the first door.
A/N - This is most likely going to be the last chapter about Lex in Metropolis posted here, just because the rating will soar! However, the unedited version will go up on the NC-17 board at naughty-seduction.net, as usual anyone that wants the link can e-mail me and I'll send it to them or give them directions how to join. Hopefully this won't disrupt the flow of the story too much, its just going to be more Chloe focussed for a while. Please R&R what you read, because it helps to keep me writing if I know people are reading it and enjoying it. xxx
Chapter 6
The private elevator was furnished on all sides with floor-to-ceiling mirrors, and Lex had the peculiar sense of watching innumerable replicas of himself stretch away into infinity. Even the door was reflective, and so he couldn't avoid looking at himself endlessly repeated until his eyes couldn't process the sight any further. Thankfully his hangover had worn off; otherwise the experience of looking at the back of his own head might have made him more than a little ill. He smoothed the fabric of his costume slightly self-consciously and gave himself a final check over.
He was dressed in clothes appropriate to a young aristocrat in pre- revolution France. A high necked black ruffled shirt, with wide sleeves that gathered at the wrist before tumbling in several layers over his hands, emphasised the pallor of his skin, an effect heightened by a layer of pale powder on his head and neck. A long waistcoat the color of blood accompanied the shirt, and a longer coat made of stiff black velvet with embroidery to match the waistcoat. A pair of knee-length breeches matching the coat, black stockings and buckled shoes completed his outfit. Slung at his waist, under the jacket and over the waistcoat, was a many-thonged whip made of hardened leather, with cruel knots at the end of each trailing length. He had scorned the period-appropriate affectation of a wig, and carried the three cornered hat that matched his coat. Both jacket and hat were embroidered along the edge with the device he had chosen, crossed sets of handcuffs in a brilliant vermilion. Lex had been surprised by the ease with which he had applied the black eyeliner and lip paint that brought out the hard planes of his face, making him look severe and ruthless. He supposed that those were skills that he'd never quite forgotten from his wild past. On his coat, over his heart, was emblazoned the coat of arms of the Marquis de Sade.
The theme of the party was 'Heaven in Hell', and he had ordered his costume especially from the best theatrical costumier in Metropolis. He had run through various options before settling on the final design. The most obvious choice had been Damian, the antichrist, since everyone knew that his father was Satan himself. Lex had disregarded that because the thought of walking around with 666 emblazoned on his head was not exactly appealing. He had briefly toyed with the idea of the Viscomte de Valmont from 'Les Liaisons Dangereuses', finding the idea of evil redeemed inherent in the character very appealing. But the fact that the redemption had arisen through the love of a good woman had put him off the idea, and led his thoughts in directions he didn't want to go. It had, however, reminded him of a person of the same period who was ideal, a person who would be most likely to find heaven in hell.
He remembered the furore over the illicit copy of 'Justine' that Bruce had smuggled into the school dorms. It was exactly the kind of material that would have been considered highly inflammatory and unsuitable for young men of rank and breeding, and in its own, badly written but enthusiastic way, it was. Bruce had been taken in to the housemaster's room and caned for it, whilst the old boys' network that ran the school looked the other way. Bruce had commented later, examining his crisscross marked butt in the bathroom mirror, that if they'd actually read the book then they probably wouldn't have chosen caning as an appropriate punishment. Lex's lips quirked at the memory, causing an infinite number of selves to smirk back, just as the elevator doors parted in front of him. He was looking forward to seeing Bruce after all.
At first it was hard to make out what lay ahead of him through the doors. Dry ice swirled in what seemed to be a dark passage. Walking forward cautiously, he made out the shapes of three tall, extraordinary women, effectively blocking the hallway ahead. They were dressed as the Furies of Greek legend, wearing floor length capes with nothing underneath except for bodies that would make the average playboy centrefold cry with envy. There was a blonde, a brunette, and a redhead, each with realistic looking snakes in their hair and tears of blood on their cheeks. They all held scourges, striking a pose that recalled an S&M version of 'Charlie's Angels', and that was altogether highly erotic.
Just as Lex was clearing his throat to ask admittance to the party, a red light flashed on at the end of the passage, making the mist seem to swirl eerily. Lex could make out the silhouette of a huge bird-like creature in front of the light. The figure languidly flapped its wings, drifted down to the floor and walked towards him and the women. They fell back respectfully and Warren Worthington III, dressed in long red robes and adorned with huge white dove-like wings, swept between them, holding his arms out in greeting.
"Lex! Its been too long." Lex gladly stepped into the embrace, marvelling at the soft warmth of the wings against his hands.
"Warren! That's quite an entrance you made!" Dropping his arms, Warren grinned at the older man, blue eyes twinkling.
"That's only the start of it, my friend. Wait until you see the wonders I've got in store for you. Do you like them, by the way?" Warren fluttered the wings gently, causing a light breeze to waft over Lex.
"I love them. I take it you're Lucifer?"
"What more appropriate costume than the Fallen One for your humble host?" Warren parted his blonde hair to show two tiny horns on his forehead. "And you are..." He stepped back to get a better view, taking in Lex's costume from head to toe. "Ah, I should have guessed. The Marquis. Its a wonderful costume, Lex. Very striking."
"Not as striking as yours, Warren. Where did you get those wings? They look so real." Reaching out, he ran his hand over the edge of one, which seemed to shiver beneath his touch.
"My father gave me them." Something in Warren's handsome face suggested that he wasn't telling the whole truth, but Lex chose not to enquire further.
"Well then, lead on, Icarus." Warren slipped his arm around Lex's shoulders and led him past the Furies, who respectfully bowed their heads as they passed. "What's the party in aid of, anyway?"
"I'm going to college." Lex stopped dead and looked at the younger man in amazement. "I know, I swore that I never would, but this place is special."
"It must be. Don't tell me you're going to reform." Lex laughed genially, and they continued down the passage. He already felt far more relaxed than he had done in days.
"Its a private school in upstate New York. I'm going to give it a chance, see what happens." Warren stopped in front of the first door on their left and rested his fingers on the handle. "Now, the grand tour. Each room has a theme. The only rules are: number one, your actions, however..." he flicked his eyes over Lex's costume, "libertine, must be appropriate to the theme of the room. Number two, all parties must consent to all events that they are involved in. And number three, so long as the first two rules are abided by, anything goes." With another matinee-idol smile, Warren turned the handle to the first door.