The episode of Smallville you missed
Young Clark Kent had everything he could have ever dreamed for at that moment. He had his health, (being a man with his gifts came with that benefit), he had his loving family, and he had the woman whom he had desired his entire life: Lana Lang. Yes, there was little more that a young Kryptonian in Smallville Kansas could have asked for. But he asked anyway.
“Let me see you wear it again, Lana?” ‘It’ was the new feather boa which Clark had bought for his new girlfriend for their three-week anniversary; ‘again’ meant that she looked adorable with the red plumes draped around her body.
“No, Clark.” she retorted. “I wanna see you wear it!” With that, Lana wrapped the scarf around his neck and dragged it back and forth. Clark laughed heartily as the feathers tickled the undersides of his rather square jaw. “Ooh!” Lana looked at Clark, grinning the sexiest grin she could muster. “I think young Mister Kent is ticklish!” Before Clark could react, she had her hands under his shirt, kneading his sides with her tiny hands.
“Stop!” he yelled, gently pushing her away. He had to be careful when he was horsing around with Lana. She got surprisingly rough very often, and it was all he could do to keep her from hurting herself without letting on what he really was. “I am ticklish,” he added when she finally stopped. “and let’s leave it at that.”
Lana crept back toward him slowly, wiggling her beautiful fingers, and eying Clark seductively. “I wonder how ticklish?” she cooed, before throwing her arms around him and kissing him. The two fell asleep in each others’ arms, high up in the loft.
When Clark finally awoke, he was quite uncertain of where he was. A quick scan of the immediate vicinity told him that he was clearly in the Kent Family barn; more specifically in the loft; where he had fallen asleep with Lana a few hours before. A split second went by before he noticed that his arms and legs were tied to the four posts holding the roof up. He was lying on a blanket, spread eagled. His shirt had been removed, and was laying, neatly folded, several feet away. His shoes and socks, which had also been removed, were evidently under the flannel shirt. His first instinct was to simply break his bonds and find out what perils had befallen Lana, when a familiar sound made him aware that this was not a wise choice.
“Well, well, well.” Lana giggled, as she stepped out of the shadows. “It seems the mighty Clark Kent has somehow finally gotten into some sort of trouble, and finally, it is Lana who must come to the rescue!” She smiled triumphantly as she knelt beside him. “How does it feel to be bested, Clark?” She leaned closer and whispered in his ear. “Do you feel like laughing about it?” Lana stood up. “Because I think you are going to be laughing quite a bit over this little event.”
Clark swallowed hard when he noticed the feather boa draped over the chair Lana had been sitting in. She was going to tickle him as he lay tied up! He knew that he was ticklish, but he wasn’t sure how he’d react to being tickled like this! Would he be able to endure the tickling without breaking the ropes that held him? What if he snapped and revealed his secret to her? What would she think? Or worse, what if she decided to tickle him sexually, and set him off to burn the barn down? He swallowed again, his mind racing. The only thing he finally came up with was:
“Why don’t I tie you up instead?” He closed his eyes. Stupid.
“Maybe later, Mister Kent. Right now I have some business to finish over here.” She bent over and gently ran her ten manicured nails down his sides, slowly and torturously. Clark inhaled sharply, and after seven or eight drags of her nails, finally let out his breath in a series of refined giggles. “That’s right, Clark, smile! Laugh” She informed him. “This is called therapy!” She quickened her pace, eliciting sharper, more rapid laughter. “But this is only the beginning.” She tickled his stomach in fluid, rapid motions, wiggling and scratching at his skin, causing Clark to thrash wildly. His laughter echoed across the lower forty, causing the surrounding livestock to glance up at the sounds of the mad alien, laughing his fool head off. Before long, however, they went back to their grazing and ruminating. “Don’t you worry, Clark,” Lana said as she tortured him, “before you woke up, your parents asked me to let you know that they were going to Metropolis for a few days. So I have you all to myself until Sunday night!” Clark did the math in his head. It was Friday night now, damn. He struggled against his will, rather than struggling against his bonds, or worse, against Lana. Her fingers deftly finding every inch of ticklish flesh on his sides and stomach, she was slowly causing his panic to rise. How much more could he take? From what she was saying, it would have to be a lot more! “Now, what do you say we see what’s under here?” Lana exclaimed, as she moved to his armpits. Clark wailed with laughter as she scraped his pits for what seemed like hours.
But now, a new problem was arising; literally. Clark noticed that his pants were getting rather tight. If something wasn’t done, and soon, it would be the fifteenth pair of pants that had had the crotch torn out by Clark’s raging hormones. He had to act fast, before poor Lana had to witness the birth of the beast! He tried desperately to catch his breath as she moved her hands to focus on tickling the hell out of his ribs.
“La-ha-ha-ha-ha-na!” He cried. “Please-ha-ha-ha”
She looked at him, and at the growing bulge. “My God, Clark, you’re really enjoying this!
“Please! Please Lana-ha-ha-ha! Please MERCY!” She relented. “Lana, you have got to take my pants off.” He could feel himself blushing, but he’d rather she have to remove his pants than learn his secret like this.
His eyes grew even wider when Lana actually reached down and unbuttoned his pants, and shorts, and slowly slid them down to his shins. “What do you want?” She asked.
Clark was gasping for air, the cool wind against his bare skin felt good, but having Lana see him like this was even more torturous than the tickling. “Do what you like, Lana, just don’t tickle me anymore.” Lana frowned. She evidently didn’t like that answer. Instead of responding, she simply went back to scrabbling her nails all over his upper body, causing Clark to scream in pleasure once again, his now - freed member throbbing happily, and his mind reeling.
Two hours later, Lana finally stopped tickling. Clark shuddered on the blanket, exhausted from the tickling, but more from trying not to struggle. He noticed her eyeing his crotch, and asked what she had in store for him next.
“I’m going to let you rest.” She said, and grabbed his shirt. “And I’m going to give you some dignity.” She smiled knowingly as she draped the shirt over his waist, hiding him from her gaze.
“Thank you.” he croaked, really not certain if he would have been more grateful with a different outcome.
“Oh, don’t thank me yet, farm-boy.” She cooed. “You’re not done here.” She then sat on his legs, and grabbed his toes with her left hand, and dragged the nails of her right hand up the sole of his right foot.
“NOOOO-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!” Clark screamed, his upper body thrashing in agony. He was careful not to move his legs, for fear of throwing Lana into a wall. She continued her torture of his right foot for a while, then moved on to the left. Alternating feet, tickling slowly and methodically, Lana tormented Clark for forty-five minutes, all the while sitting on his legs, and all the while as he laughed and screamed for mercy. She was having too much fun to stop now, and the constant motion of the flannel shirt behind her told her that he was enjoying it almost as much as she was.
Soon, Lana got up off of Clark’s feet, and sat, instead, on the floor with his feet facing her. She reached over to get the feather boa, and dragged it in the gaps between his toes, first one gap, then the next, then the next, the whole length of the boa. Clark was beside himself with laughter, until she finally ditched the scarf and dug her nails into his soles. She scraped and scratched for a long time, Smiling evilly at him and loving every moment.
Clark was laughing too hard to hear his own laughter. The tickling was so intense now that he really was not sure which foot she was tickling until she moved to the other one. When she tickled up his legs and tortured his knees for a while, and his calves, and actually ventured both hands under the shirt to explore the skin on his balls, he knew that it was only a matter of time. He couldn’t hold the laughter any longer. He was just about to let go, to snap the ropes, to reveal his true self to Lana, to sweep her up and make love to her right there, in the very spot from where he’d watched her every day through his telescope…. When she stopped.
“Shit,” she exclaimed. “What is she doing here?” Clark looked through the wall. It was Chloe. She had decided to drop by.
“Thank God!” Clark whispered. It was all he could manage. Before Lana could untie him, Chloe had stormed up the steps and had caught them in their act.
“What the Hell…” was all Chloe said. Her grin was enough to let both Clark and Lana know that she found this scene to be absolutely delightful! Chloe stepped closer and examined Clark’s now pink skin. “Were you using your nails, Lana?” she asked.
“Yeah, he seemed to like it too much though.” Lana nodded toward the pants around Clark’s ankles.
“Well,” Chloe knelt down, “you weren’t doing it right. Let me show you how it’s done on his stomach, while you demonstrate your foot technique.” She winked at Lana, who grinned back at her.
Clark began laughing again as both woman tickled him senseless. Giving up entirely, he simply let his muscles relax and accepted the tickling for what it was: Wonderful torture. His secret would be safe, but neither Chloe nor Lana would be. He made a vow to get them both back, if they ever let him go….
Young Clark Kent had everything he could have ever dreamed for at that moment. He had his health, (being a man with his gifts came with that benefit), he had his loving family, and he had the woman whom he had desired his entire life: Lana Lang. Yes, there was little more that a young Kryptonian in Smallville Kansas could have asked for. But he asked anyway.
“Let me see you wear it again, Lana?” ‘It’ was the new feather boa which Clark had bought for his new girlfriend for their three-week anniversary; ‘again’ meant that she looked adorable with the red plumes draped around her body.
“No, Clark.” she retorted. “I wanna see you wear it!” With that, Lana wrapped the scarf around his neck and dragged it back and forth. Clark laughed heartily as the feathers tickled the undersides of his rather square jaw. “Ooh!” Lana looked at Clark, grinning the sexiest grin she could muster. “I think young Mister Kent is ticklish!” Before Clark could react, she had her hands under his shirt, kneading his sides with her tiny hands.
“Stop!” he yelled, gently pushing her away. He had to be careful when he was horsing around with Lana. She got surprisingly rough very often, and it was all he could do to keep her from hurting herself without letting on what he really was. “I am ticklish,” he added when she finally stopped. “and let’s leave it at that.”
Lana crept back toward him slowly, wiggling her beautiful fingers, and eying Clark seductively. “I wonder how ticklish?” she cooed, before throwing her arms around him and kissing him. The two fell asleep in each others’ arms, high up in the loft.
When Clark finally awoke, he was quite uncertain of where he was. A quick scan of the immediate vicinity told him that he was clearly in the Kent Family barn; more specifically in the loft; where he had fallen asleep with Lana a few hours before. A split second went by before he noticed that his arms and legs were tied to the four posts holding the roof up. He was lying on a blanket, spread eagled. His shirt had been removed, and was laying, neatly folded, several feet away. His shoes and socks, which had also been removed, were evidently under the flannel shirt. His first instinct was to simply break his bonds and find out what perils had befallen Lana, when a familiar sound made him aware that this was not a wise choice.
“Well, well, well.” Lana giggled, as she stepped out of the shadows. “It seems the mighty Clark Kent has somehow finally gotten into some sort of trouble, and finally, it is Lana who must come to the rescue!” She smiled triumphantly as she knelt beside him. “How does it feel to be bested, Clark?” She leaned closer and whispered in his ear. “Do you feel like laughing about it?” Lana stood up. “Because I think you are going to be laughing quite a bit over this little event.”
Clark swallowed hard when he noticed the feather boa draped over the chair Lana had been sitting in. She was going to tickle him as he lay tied up! He knew that he was ticklish, but he wasn’t sure how he’d react to being tickled like this! Would he be able to endure the tickling without breaking the ropes that held him? What if he snapped and revealed his secret to her? What would she think? Or worse, what if she decided to tickle him sexually, and set him off to burn the barn down? He swallowed again, his mind racing. The only thing he finally came up with was:
“Why don’t I tie you up instead?” He closed his eyes. Stupid.
“Maybe later, Mister Kent. Right now I have some business to finish over here.” She bent over and gently ran her ten manicured nails down his sides, slowly and torturously. Clark inhaled sharply, and after seven or eight drags of her nails, finally let out his breath in a series of refined giggles. “That’s right, Clark, smile! Laugh” She informed him. “This is called therapy!” She quickened her pace, eliciting sharper, more rapid laughter. “But this is only the beginning.” She tickled his stomach in fluid, rapid motions, wiggling and scratching at his skin, causing Clark to thrash wildly. His laughter echoed across the lower forty, causing the surrounding livestock to glance up at the sounds of the mad alien, laughing his fool head off. Before long, however, they went back to their grazing and ruminating. “Don’t you worry, Clark,” Lana said as she tortured him, “before you woke up, your parents asked me to let you know that they were going to Metropolis for a few days. So I have you all to myself until Sunday night!” Clark did the math in his head. It was Friday night now, damn. He struggled against his will, rather than struggling against his bonds, or worse, against Lana. Her fingers deftly finding every inch of ticklish flesh on his sides and stomach, she was slowly causing his panic to rise. How much more could he take? From what she was saying, it would have to be a lot more! “Now, what do you say we see what’s under here?” Lana exclaimed, as she moved to his armpits. Clark wailed with laughter as she scraped his pits for what seemed like hours.
But now, a new problem was arising; literally. Clark noticed that his pants were getting rather tight. If something wasn’t done, and soon, it would be the fifteenth pair of pants that had had the crotch torn out by Clark’s raging hormones. He had to act fast, before poor Lana had to witness the birth of the beast! He tried desperately to catch his breath as she moved her hands to focus on tickling the hell out of his ribs.
“La-ha-ha-ha-ha-na!” He cried. “Please-ha-ha-ha”
She looked at him, and at the growing bulge. “My God, Clark, you’re really enjoying this!
“Please! Please Lana-ha-ha-ha! Please MERCY!” She relented. “Lana, you have got to take my pants off.” He could feel himself blushing, but he’d rather she have to remove his pants than learn his secret like this.
His eyes grew even wider when Lana actually reached down and unbuttoned his pants, and shorts, and slowly slid them down to his shins. “What do you want?” She asked.
Clark was gasping for air, the cool wind against his bare skin felt good, but having Lana see him like this was even more torturous than the tickling. “Do what you like, Lana, just don’t tickle me anymore.” Lana frowned. She evidently didn’t like that answer. Instead of responding, she simply went back to scrabbling her nails all over his upper body, causing Clark to scream in pleasure once again, his now - freed member throbbing happily, and his mind reeling.
Two hours later, Lana finally stopped tickling. Clark shuddered on the blanket, exhausted from the tickling, but more from trying not to struggle. He noticed her eyeing his crotch, and asked what she had in store for him next.
“I’m going to let you rest.” She said, and grabbed his shirt. “And I’m going to give you some dignity.” She smiled knowingly as she draped the shirt over his waist, hiding him from her gaze.
“Thank you.” he croaked, really not certain if he would have been more grateful with a different outcome.
“Oh, don’t thank me yet, farm-boy.” She cooed. “You’re not done here.” She then sat on his legs, and grabbed his toes with her left hand, and dragged the nails of her right hand up the sole of his right foot.
“NOOOO-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!” Clark screamed, his upper body thrashing in agony. He was careful not to move his legs, for fear of throwing Lana into a wall. She continued her torture of his right foot for a while, then moved on to the left. Alternating feet, tickling slowly and methodically, Lana tormented Clark for forty-five minutes, all the while sitting on his legs, and all the while as he laughed and screamed for mercy. She was having too much fun to stop now, and the constant motion of the flannel shirt behind her told her that he was enjoying it almost as much as she was.
Soon, Lana got up off of Clark’s feet, and sat, instead, on the floor with his feet facing her. She reached over to get the feather boa, and dragged it in the gaps between his toes, first one gap, then the next, then the next, the whole length of the boa. Clark was beside himself with laughter, until she finally ditched the scarf and dug her nails into his soles. She scraped and scratched for a long time, Smiling evilly at him and loving every moment.
Clark was laughing too hard to hear his own laughter. The tickling was so intense now that he really was not sure which foot she was tickling until she moved to the other one. When she tickled up his legs and tortured his knees for a while, and his calves, and actually ventured both hands under the shirt to explore the skin on his balls, he knew that it was only a matter of time. He couldn’t hold the laughter any longer. He was just about to let go, to snap the ropes, to reveal his true self to Lana, to sweep her up and make love to her right there, in the very spot from where he’d watched her every day through his telescope…. When she stopped.
“Shit,” she exclaimed. “What is she doing here?” Clark looked through the wall. It was Chloe. She had decided to drop by.
“Thank God!” Clark whispered. It was all he could manage. Before Lana could untie him, Chloe had stormed up the steps and had caught them in their act.
“What the Hell…” was all Chloe said. Her grin was enough to let both Clark and Lana know that she found this scene to be absolutely delightful! Chloe stepped closer and examined Clark’s now pink skin. “Were you using your nails, Lana?” she asked.
“Yeah, he seemed to like it too much though.” Lana nodded toward the pants around Clark’s ankles.
“Well,” Chloe knelt down, “you weren’t doing it right. Let me show you how it’s done on his stomach, while you demonstrate your foot technique.” She winked at Lana, who grinned back at her.
Clark began laughing again as both woman tickled him senseless. Giving up entirely, he simply let his muscles relax and accepted the tickling for what it was: Wonderful torture. His secret would be safe, but neither Chloe nor Lana would be. He made a vow to get them both back, if they ever let him go….
