Author's Name: Lostiawen
e-mail: changeling@planetx.org
Fic Title: Boundaries (16/20)
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: OB/VM

Genre: RPS
Archive: Mirrormere, CIB, More Than Mates,
Aniron, VOLA, Lirimaer.  All others please ask.

Summary: A visit from Henry.

Warnings: slight angst, but you know me by now.

Feedback: Yes, please.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, none of this really happened.  The author
is not associated with or is implying anything about the sexual preferences or the
lives of the people depicted within.

Author's Notes : Oops, I'm a couple of days late.  Sorry about that, folks.  And
Lainey, many apologies.  I know I promised kink, but pacing wise, it didn't work
out.  I did write some extra smut in, and I hope that will suffice. 

Posted May 22, 2005


***** I'm naked and tied up again, struggling while Legolas stares at me with his
ancient, knowing eyes.  He runs a hand down my trembling body, chuckling under his
breath as I try to bite back a soft moan.

"You cannot resist me," he purrs, dropping kisses along my chest.

"No," I protest in a small voice, trying to will my body to not respond to his
caresses.  I'm trying in vain...I arch up, pressing my aching cock towards him.

"Legolas, please..." I moan before I'm engulfed in wet heat. 

I buck upward, my head spinning out of control...feeling the world dissolve around
me and grow lighter...

I'm momentarily disoriented when I wake up.  I expect to be in my bed, but I get
my bearings and I remembered that Orli and I fell asleep in his house after we had
more make-up sex.

I hear a loud slurp and my eyes roll back into my head as a huge amount of suction
is applied to my dick.  I force my sleep-fuzzed brain to concentrate, and I glance
downward.  Mmm...that's a nice sight. Orlando's lying between my legs, and my cock
is lodged firmly down his throat.

His cheeks hollow and he resumes sucking me, running his tongue along the
underside of my hard flesh. I try to thrust upward, but Orlando is holding my hips
down and preventing any movement.

I try in protest, but my words become lost in a choked cry when I feel his tongue
flickering along the seam of my cock.  My brain continues to short-circuit as that
luscious, soft mouth continues to drive me insane.

Long moments pass before I can gather enough coherency to gasp out,
"Orli...please...let me move."

Orli purrs and swings his body around, letting his cock hover just above my lips.
The scent of his arousal is heavy in the air, and I stretch upward to lick off the
moisture welling at the tip of his erection. The drops are warm on my tongue, and
I roll them around my mouth, relishing the salty taste.

He groans at the contact, and the vibration around my dick just sends a jolt
through every inch of my body.  I mirror Orli's cry, and he chooses that moment to
push down, feeding his cock to me.

I open my throat, letting Orli slide in until he's buried up to the hilt.  At the
same time, he sucks harder, pulling back until my cock almost pops out of his
mouth and then swallowing me in one gulp again.  I moan loudly, and I hear an
answering grunt from him.

Our suckling seems to echoes throughout the room as we blow each other.  Orli
mewls when I hollow my cheeks and swipe my tongue along his hard shaft.

After I trace a long spiral, he pulls up and breathes, "Oh God...fuck, just like
that..."  before he begins to rock his hips, trying to get more friction.

I suck for all I'm worth, humming steadily at the same time.  He thrusts into me,
filling my mouth over and over again. I revel in the musky taste of his cock as it
slides over my tongue, and I lap at him with enthusiasm, trying to get more. My
head's spinning as he continues to devour me, his soft whimpers making me ache
until I feel like I'm going to burst.

On his next upstroke, I push my tongue into his slit and twirl it around. Orli
cries out and increases his speed, bobbing that tempting ass of his up and down as
he fucks my mouth.  

I remember that we had pushed the lube to my side of the bed before we fell
asleep. Out of the corner of my eye, I see that the bottle is within easy grabbing
distance. Hmmm, that gives me an idea...

I quietly flick the cap open, swirling my tongue along Orli's cock to keep him
distracted. He whimpers and pushes down, still lost in sensation.  After I squeeze
some gel onto my fingers, I push them into Orli's hole, curling the tips downward.

He shrieks as I touch his prostate, and he rams his hips down, letting my cock go
so that he can let out a full-throated scream as he comes. His nails dig into my
skin, and I savor the fact that there are going to be marks later on.

His cock twitches and only yields a few drops, but I work my throat muscles,
trying to milk out what I can.  He quivers in my grasp, lost in ecstasy; unable to
move until he begins to soften.  

He sighs, "Holy fuck," before he shivers and collapses weakly to the side.  I
rotate around so that I can face him, pulling him close and ignoring the ache in
my groin.

His eyes blearily open and he says, "We still need to take care of you..."

"I'm fine," I lie.

"Oh shush," Orli says.  "You're dripping like a bitch in heat."  His fingers swirl
along the tip of my cock and I groan.  His voice drops to a low growl.  "You need
to fuck me, don't you?"

Christ, I could just come from the sound of his voice.  "God...Orli..."

Orlando wraps his legs around my waist and rolls onto his back.  "Come on, you
know you want to do it, old man," he purrs. "You want to make me walk around with
your hot load up my arse all day, reminding me that I'm yours."

Oh, holy hell.  He's going to kill me. Growling, I grab Orli's legs and push them
to the side roughly, causing Orli to squeak.  Before he has a chance to recover, I
push forward, sliding into his lubed hole without much resistance.

Orli's eyelashes flutter as I sink into him, and his breath is escaping in short
little hitches. I flex my hips, making my cock twitch against his prostate.  He
groans, thrashing around in my grip.  When he finally looks back at me, his eyes
are black pools of desire.

"Give it to me hard," he says in a low, throaty rasp, reaching up to grab the
headboard.

All coherent thought just goes out the window, and I make a guttural noise before
I slam into him, causing his body to shake with the force of my thrust.  Orli's
nails dig into the wood and he snarls at me, "Harder!"

Shuddering, I grab his hips and pound into him, humping him without any grace or
mercy.  All I want to do is come, and Orli meets each of my savage thrusts, crying
out wildly.  My whole body is electrified, lost in his heat and tightness when he
clamps down on me, squeezing me with as much force as he can muster.

Oh. Fuck.  My balls draw up before I bury myself deep inside of him, throwing my
head back to howl at the force of my orgasm. Time seems to stop as lights explode
behind my eyes, and then all of the energy drains out of me; I collapse on top of
Orli, feeling weak as a kitten.

The room is still spinning when Orli says, "You're squishing me."

Grumbling, I pull out and flop down onto my back beside him.  He winds his arms
around me and scoots closer, pressing his sweaty body against my side.

I'm almost drifting off when I feel Orli burying his face in my neck.  He
breathes, "Missed you."

"Mmm...missed you, too," I say, stroking his damp hair.

Orli smushes his face in a little further and then pulls away.  His eyes are
serious as he rests his chin on my shoulder.  "When does Henry arrive?"

I sigh.  Orli's timing is pretty bad, but we really do need to talk about the
impending visit.

"Friday morning."

"Have you figured out what you're going to do?"

"No, not really."  I close my eyes before I say the next sentence.  "He doesn't
know about you yet, baby. And, um...as far as he knows, I'm straight." I brace
myself for an explosion.

It never comes.  Orli just mutters a curse under his breath and then presses a
tender kiss to my chest.  "It's okay, I understand."

I'm a bit dumbfounded, but Orli says, "Look, I'm sure you have your reasons for
not telling Henry.  So, I suppose that you're going to want to stay at your place
for a bit?"

Crap.  I didn't mean to inconvenience Orli like that. I try to come up with a
happy medium, but my brain just won't fire.

When it does finally work, the only idea I can come up with is pretty farfetched.
"Are you sure that's all right?  I can bring you with me to the airport
instead..." Orli presses his hand to my lips.

"No, that would be daft.  Let Henry settle down before you tell him about us."

He's right, but I still don't like the idea of being separated again.  Not when we
just got back together. "Are you sure?  We still have some things to work out..."

"And one of them was the fact that I didn't really think about Henry's feelings,"
he interrupts.  "I don't want to give him a reason to hate me, and if that means a
bit of frustration, then I'll suffer."  His eyes sparkle with mischief. "I'll just
cuddle up to Dom or Sean in the meanwhile."

I glare at Orli and he chuckles.  He kisses my nose, saying, "You're sexy when you
get all possessive, you know that?"

Great, I'm not really in the mood to be teased right now. "And what are you going
to do about it?"  I bristle.

Orli presses against me and purrs, "How does fucking you into next week sound?"
He's hard again, and he rubs himself in slow circles against my hip.

My hormones immediately banish away any thoughts of annoyance.  But I don't want
him to think I'm that easy. Good thing that Orli can never resist a dare.  "I'd
like to see you try.  We all know how fragile the elves are."

"Fragile?  I'll show you fragile, old man."  

As Orli pounces on me, I notice that we have a call in three hours.  I'm going to
be honest -- at this moment I don't give a flying fuck.  I'm reunited with this
wonderful man, and I intend to enjoy every second.

*** We're pretty bleary when we stumble into the Cuntebago; I don't think we
stopped making love until Orli noticed that we had exactly twenty minutes to haul
our asses into work.  We barely had enough time to throw on our clothes and get
out the door.  Not that I care...Aragorn would go for months without bathing; it's
not any big deal if I skip a shower.

Sean is already sitting in his make-up chair when we arrive. Once he sees us, he
gets up and crushes us both with a big hug.

"Glad to see that you twats haven't had a row during the night. Everything good
now?"

"As good as it can get," I murmur as we break apart.

Sean crinkles his nose and grimaces.  "Ugh.  You two could have at least showered
before you came in.  You reek of sex...but that figures, what with Viggo's
stamina."

Orli pouts, "You arsehole.  What makes you think that I let Vig do all the work?"

"Because when you're not topping, you're a lazy sod," Sean replies.  The next
second, Orli sends a box of tissues hurling in Sean's direction, but he easily
dodges them.

"Fuck off," Orli says, pouting even more.  "See if I ever invite you over to visit
after filming ends."

"Awww, you know that I'm fond of you, sweetheart,"  Sean says in a condescending
voice.  He pinches Orli's cheek, which causes my elf to let out another indignant
growl.

There's only one good response to that action.  I launch myself at Sean, throwing
all of my weight into a full-body tackle.  Sean yelps in surprise, and then Orli
jumps in, trying to find all of Sean's ticklish spots.

We're still rolling around on the floor when Tanya walks in.

"You guys are completely mad," she says, shaking her head.

That incident pretty much sets the tone for the rest of the week.  I'm sure we
annoyed a few people, but they just let it slide, since they're happier that Orli
and I aren't fighting any
before I know it, it's time to pick up Henry.

My hands are sweating as I drive out to Wellington airport.  God, I shouldn't be
so nervous, but this is a gigantic change for Henry. I think the worst thing is
the waiting.  I want to tell him now, but it's best if I give him some time.

After going through the metal detector, I see that I have about half an hour
before Henry's plane arrives.  Great, more waiting. I wind up running through
lines in my head and muttering to myself in Elvish to pass the time.

Before I know it, I see people coming out.  Okay...steady... There he is!

"Dad!" Henry shouts, running towards me.

I grab him and bear hug him.  "God, I missed you.  How was your flight?"

Henry crinkles his nose.  "Long.  There was this baby that was crying so loud that
I thought I was going to go deaf.  At least 'The Mummy' was playing, so I plugged
in my headphones and cranked the sound."

I grin at him.  "Again?  You've seen that film about 7 times."

I receive an eyeroll and that exasperated look that all pre-teens give their
parents.  "Whatever, Dad.  It's way cool."

I ruffle his hair, which earns me a sputter of protest.  "I hope you'll find this
film to be even cooler.  Come on, Peter gave me the okay to let you visit the
set."

On the way back, Henry peppers me with a ton of questions about films one through
three.  I can't help but smile at his enthusiasm when I tell him again about the
110% commitment that everyone is giving, from the crew all the way up to the
producers.

When we arrive, I introduce Henry to everyone, trying my hardest to not give him
any indication that Orlando and I are more than close friends.  After a brief
tour, Peter needs me to shoot some scenes, but Henry's familiar with this part of
the drill.  He patiently sits down and waits while I get into costume, rush to the
set to go over the shot, and do about a dozen takes with Orli, Brett, and Bernard.

After take thirteen, Peter says, "Right, we've got it! Check the Gate!"

Henry dashes in and bounces up to Orli.  "That was *so* cool! You totally walk
like an elf.  Was it hard?"

Orlando blushes.  "Yeah.  I'm a fucking...oh, oops.  Sorry, Vig," he says as I
glare at him.  "I meant, I'm a bloody klutz, so I had to go to movement training
classes.  I still trip over my feet a lot, though."

Henry's practically vibrating in place.  "No way!  I didn't see you stumbling at
all when you hopped on those rocks.  You were so elflike when you did it. And did
they make you train a lot with your bow?"

Orli nods.  "Yeah, I started archery lessons when I first got here.  I'm not too
bad."

"I bet you're killer with it.  Can you show me?"

Orli's face lights up.  "Sure.  I think we can set up something.  Come on over
here."

We go out to an open area near the set and I help Orli find some boxes to pile up
in a stack.  A crewmember helps us find a piece of cardboard that I can sketch a
bull's-eye on, and we mount it on the front of the boxes.

Orli backs up a good distance and says, "Okay, watch this."

He reaches behind him in one smooth motion to grab an arrow out of his quiver.  He
pulls it out with unearthly grace...and the tip catches in his wig.

"Bugger!" Orli growls.  He claps his hand over his mouth and says, "Shit! I didn't
mean to cock up and swear like that... Fuck! I said 'cock up', didn't I?  Bloody
cunting hell..."

Henry isn't offended in the least.  In fact, he's laughing his ass off at Orli's
further attempts to apologize -- of course, the more flustered Orli gets, the more
he swears.

I finally say, "It's okay, Orli.  We know what you mean."

"Dad?"  Henry pipes up.

"What?"

"I didn't know 'cunt' could be used as an adjective," he says with glee.

I roll my eyes upward.  "And if you don't want to spend the rest of your trip
locked up in your room, you'll stop asking me questions like that."

Henry makes a zipping motion and goes silent.

The rest of the day goes smoothly, and I just can't help but smile when I see Orli
spending as much time as possible with Henry, trying to make sure that he isn't
bored while we wait between takes.  If they aren't screwing around and playing
Tig, Orli regales Henry with as many amusing stories as he can remember; including
some that poke fun at me.  Although I can't argue that Henry's grimace when he
hears the road kill story is pretty fucking funny.

Jet lag sets in during the afternoon, and we let Henry sleep in the Cuntebago.  I
wake him up when Peter dismisses us at 9. He chatters away during the drive back
to my house.  I listen patiently, but I keep turning over in my head whether or
not to tell him about Orli. I chicken out in the end, deciding that he needs more
time.

*** Henry and I are watching TV on Sunday night when I finally decide that I need
to tell him.  "Henry?" I ask. Damn, wish I could sound more sure of myself.

His eyes are still glued to the TV screen.  "Yeah, Dad?" he grunts.

Kids.  Trust them to make things difficult. "Um...I have something important to
tell you."

Henry gets that exasperated "great, what *now*?" look on his face.  "What?" he
says, without moving an inch.

Okay.  Come on, Viggo.  You can do this. "Well...what do you think about Orlando?"

He makes a non-committal gesture and replies, "He's a great guy.  Totally fun to
be around, and I love that I can kick his ass at video games.  Why?"

I take a deep breath.  It's now or never. "We, um, we got together."

Henry suddenly loses his preoccupation with the TV, and his whips his head around
to stare at me. "What do you mean 'together?'" he asks pointedly.

I shuffle a bit.  Fuck, this is harder than I thought, but I have to tell him.  My
voice lowers to a low mumble and I reply, "We're in love, Henry."

His face twists, and he just stares at me, still uncomprehending. "But...he's a
man!"

"Henry, that shouldn't matter."

Henry doesn't answer me.  He just runs to his bedroom, and the sound of the door
slamming afterward echoes throughout the house.

Shit, that went over well. ---end part 16





Author's Name: Lostiawen e-mail: changeling@planetx.org Fic Title: Boundaries
(17/20) Rating: NC-17 Pairing: OB/VM

Genre: RPS Archive: Mirrormere, CIB, More Than Mates, Aniron, VOLA, Lirimaer.  All
others please ask.

Summary: A day at the beach.

Warnings: no smut this chapter.

Feedback: Yes, please.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, none of this really happened.  The author
is not associated with or is implying anything about the sexual preferences or the
lives of the people depicted within.

Author's Notes : You know, when it rains, it pours.  I've been battling RL
smacking me in the face, plus writer's block, (I had a draft a couple of weeks
ago, but I was so dissatified with it that I rewrote the chapter.) and then just
when I got everything resolved, my computer died. So, I can post to yahoogroups,
but not LJ for now.

I realize that I'm screwing with the filming schedule, but I didn't really adhere
to it to begin with.

Posted June 27, 2005. **** Of all of the fucked up things that have happened so
far, Henry's reaction to my announcement was the capstone.  Since I know that just
pressing the issue right now would just make things worse, I decide to sequester
myself in my room. My first impulse is to just paint or write until I pass out,
but I really should talk to Orli about this.  Just to insure that Henry doesn't
accidentally listen in, I pick up my cell phone and speed dial Orli's number.

After a few rings, Orli picks up.  I hear a lot of background noise, which means
that he's probably in a club, as usual. "'Lo, could you hold on a tick?" he says.

"Okay."

After a few moments, I hear the raucous noises fading away, and the sound of a
door opening.  It slams shut, and then everything goes fairly quiet.

Orli's voice is filled with concern when he speaks again. "Had to go somewhere
where I could hear you.  Something's wrong, isn't it?  You wouldn't be ringing me
up otherwise."

I'm always amazed by how perceptive he can be.  Sighing, I reply, "Yeah.  I told
Henry about us. He didn't take it well -- he locked himself in his room."

"It'll be all right.  He just needs some time," Orli reassures me.

And I think Orli's being too optimistic. "I can't see how this will be fixed.
Henry just floored me with his reaction.  You'd think he'd know better -- I've
always said to him that when people are in love, it shouldn't matter what sex they
are."

"But it's different because you're related to him.  I mean, to him, parents don't
have sex.  So, to tell him that you're not only shagging, but that you're sleeping
with a bloke..."

"Still..."

Orli cuts in.  "Listen, it was a big shock when Mum dropped the bomb about Colin.
I couldn't believe any of it, so I ran away to a friend's to bunk down for the
night.  Swore that I'd never talk to her again. Anyway, you know how that worked
out.  Trust me, he'll come around."

"But..." I protest.

I'm not given a chance to finish.  "Look, you can talk in the morning.  Besides,
you need to have a bit of a lie down.  You've been a walking zombie since
Tuesday."

As soon as he says it, it hits me that I really haven't gotten much in the way of
rest.  Between faxing Peter about revisions to Aragorn's lines, spending time with
Henry, filming, helping the crew out, cooking meals, and extra fight training, I
haven't had a chance to do more than breathe. Shit...yeah, it hits me like a
sledgehammer that I'm exhausted.

"I guess I am a little tired," I reply.

Orli snorts with derision.  "That's the understatement of the year. You're
completely knackered.  And if I don't keep on you, you'll just go until you drop,
you daft bugger.  We have evening make-up calls tomorrow, so you may as well sleep
in. C'mon, Vig...please?"

I can almost see the puppy dog eyes he's making on the other end.  I have trouble
resisting them when I'm alert, so I just cave in immediately.  "All right."

"Like I said, things will be better in the morning. Trust me."

"I hope so," I say doubtfully.

"I know so," Orli replies.  "Now, off to bed, you.  Have some nice pervy dreams."

I bite my lip, deciding to keep quiet about my nightly encounters with Legolas for
now.  I still need to sort out why I'm even having these dreams.  "I will.  Good
night."

"Night," Orli says before he hangs up.

I take off all of my clothes before I crawl into bed and settle down to sleep.  I
really hope that Orli isn't wrong... I feel my shoulders tense as I start
worrying, and I start tossing around.  Fatigue wins out in the end, though, and my
tired brain soon tosses everything aside, and blackness fills my vision as I doze
off.

***

As usual, I wake up before Henry does.  The first thing that hits me is that I
realize that I was a complete dumbshit last night.  God, did I have to mention
Orli that abruptly?  Hell, I'm sure Henry wasn't even aware of the open
relationship I had with Exene, because I only slept around when he was over at her
place. It looks like my discretion has come back to bite me in the ass in a big
way.  And there were several better ways to break the news to Henry, but I've been
so frazzled that I just botched it.  I don't know why people think I'm so amazing.
Right now, I'm scoring a zero across the board.

Okay, enough of beating myself up.  I need to think about breakfast.  I wander
into the kitchen and start poking my nose in the fridge. Let's see...what do we
have, ingredient wise, for omelets?  Hmmm...green onions, garlic, ham...that's
good. And we still have some sausage that I can grill up on the side. Lots of
potatoes, too.  That's good, we could use some homefries...

I start prepping everything, and I get so busy that I don't notice that Henry is
standing in the doorway until I'm in the middle of cooking the omelet.  He's
grabbed a tissue from his room, and he's fiddling with it, looking incredibly
nervous as he does so.

We just stare at each other, and the tension in the room is so thick that you
could cut it with a knife. I'm the first to break the silence -- I turn off the
burner and wheel around to face him, giving Henry my full attention.  "Hey."

Henry almost jumps out of his skin, but then he settles down. "Hey," he replies.
He starts shredding the tissue into little bits, a sure sign that he's jittery.

I'm about to say something when Henry blurts out, "I'm sorry about last night,
Dad.  It was like, too weird for me."  He grimaces when he realizes what he just
said and adds, "Not that being gay is weird...but, y'know, it's different when
it's *you*.  Oh God, that came out all wrong, didn't it?"

Henry's face is turning beet red, so I give him a reassuring smile. "No, you're
doing fine.  Go ahead and keep talking."

Relaxing, he continues.  "Uh, I don't have a lot to say...just that when I woke up
this morning, I decided that...ummm..." He chews his lip and looks away from me.
Dead silence fills the room again.

Okay, enough's enough.  "Henry," I admonish in my best parental voice.  "Spit it
out."

Henry shuffles again and says, "I decided that, uh, I was really stupid.  It
shouldn't make a difference that you're dating a guy."

My heart leaps in my chest and I crush Henry against me in a bear hug.  "Thank
you," I whisper.

Henry's arms flail around and he squeaks, "You're crushing me!"  

Damn, guess I let my enthusiasm get the better of me.  I think I'm picking up on
Orli's bad habits.  I chuckle as I let a sputtering Henry go.  

"Jeez, Dad!" he pouts, "Guess I won't feel bad about wanting to poke my eyes out
if you do any mushy stuff with Orli."

This is too good of an opportunity to pass up.  In a sickeningly sweet voice, I
say, "You mean I can't call Orli 'snuggle-buns' in front of you? How about 'pookie
bear'?"

"Ew!  Daaad, how could you *do* that before breakfast?" He sticks his tongue out
and makes gagging noises.

I laugh and go back to cooking the omelet, barely able to control the joy that's
humming through my body right now.  I start singing while I finish everything up,
which draws some jabs from Henry. I almost flick a piece of food at him -- another
bad habit that I've picked up from Orli.  I shake my head as I serve breakfast;
Orli's definitely worked his way into my life.  

Of course, Henry asks me why I have "that weird grin on my face".  

"Do you really want me to talk about Orli again?" I reply.

As expected, I get some frantic hand-waving and Henry changes the subject.  We
have a great chat over our meal, and I turn over in head what we should do for the
rest of the day.  I have a late make-up call, which means that we'd have enough
time to walk on the beach, or just wander through Wellington....on the other hand,
the countryside *is* incredible... I can't really decide, and I'm still thinking
about it when a ring from the phone grabs my attention.

"I'll get it," I say to Henry, wiping my mouth and putting my fork down on my now
empty plate.  "You go ahead and clean up."

I stride over to the phone and pick it up.  "Hello?" I say. Hmmm, that's odd.  I
hear a faint whoosh in the background.

"Hiya," Orli says.  "Can you talk?"  His voice is a little tinny, which means that
he's probably in a car.  

"I'll always make time for you, baby," I purr.  

Orli giggles with delight.  "I told you he'd come around," he says.

"Wha..."

"Well, you wouldn't be bloody talking to me if it all went bad, yeah?  Anyway, I
just wanted to call you because I'm going surfing with the Hobbits, and I wanted
to be sure that you didn't need an ear to bend.  Of course, now it looks like I
shouldn't have bothered."  God, I know he's got a cheeky grin plastered on his
face right now.

If I had a pillow in my hand, I'm smack him one. But Henry's within earshot, so I
can't really tell Orli off; just my fucking luck.

"Hmmm...dead silence.  Guess you're trying to think of a phrase that doesn't
involve swearing? You know, if you joined me, you could drag me off and give me
what for properly."

Is he nuts?  "Orli, I can't take Henry surfing."

"Surfing?  Sounds cool!" Henry yells before he enters the room.  Shit, that wasn't
a serious offer, but Henry is giving me that pleading look; the one that I can't
say no to.

Sighing, I mutter, "Uh, Orli?  Henry wants to take you up on that offer."

There's a pause before Orli says, "He really wants to go surfing with us?  Um, is
that wise?"

I agree.  For someone who had a negative reaction yesterday to the idea that I had
a boyfriend, Henry seems too casual about it today.  I'm not convinced that he's
going to be able to handle it.  I lift my head and said to Henry, "Are you sure?
Orli will be there."

Henry shrugs and replies, "Duh, he's the one who asked...I have ears, you know."

"Henry, are you really sure?  Orli will be hugging me..."

He pouts, "Dad, I'm not some *eleven* year old...I can handle it."

I shake my head and laugh.  "All right...Orli?"

"I heard," Orli responds with enthusiasm.  "I can't wait to see you both.  I'll be
there shortly.  God, this will be so fantastic!" I can tell by the sound of his
voice that Orli's bouncing in his seat at the prospect that Henry will be joining
us.  

His joy is infectious, and I can't suppress the broad grin on my face.  "Can't
wait to see you," I reply.  "Bye."

"Bye!"

After a hasty clean-up, Henry and I rush around the house, trying to grab all of
the supplies that we'll be needing for the beach. We've just packed up the last
bit when I hear a car in the driveway. I open the front door, grinning as Orli
comes bounding out of his car.

"Vig!" he says, flinging himself into my arms and hugging me as hard as he can.

I laugh and crush Orli against me, enjoying the feel of his body.  God, it's been
too long since we last touched each other and I can feel my cock stirring.  That's
not good --Henry sure as hell won't appreciate us groping each other. I let Orli
go with reluctance, before things get out of hand.

"Oi!  Looks like I've been ignoring someone," Orli says, looking over my shoulder.
His grin quickly fades, and when I turn around, I see why -- Henry's standing in
the doorway, but his smile is very strained.  His body is tense, and I can see
that he's staring at Orli, taking in his every move.

Shit, I was afraid of that. It's one thing to say that you're fine with something;
it's another to be confronted by the reality.  Orli backs away a few steps and
whispers, "It's okay, luv.  He still needs time.  Just give it a chance to sink
in."

"All right," I reply.  "I'll trust your lead on this."

Orli smiles at me before he raises his voice to tell us that we need to get our
arses in gear. It's a good distraction, keeping Henry's thoughts off of things
while he helps load up the car. However, once we pile in, Henry goes silent again.

Orli is unfazed, and he starts babbling to me about random things, keeping the
atmosphere comfortable and friendly as we drive to the beach.

***

Orli and the Hobbits whoop loudly as they emerge out of the water, having caught a
pretty impressive roller.  Henry and I are sitting on a blanket, enjoying the sun.
Well, I'm enjoying the sun. Henry's pouting because I put my foot down and decided
that there was no way that I was going to let him out into open water.  

"I'm old enough," he mutters.

"You still need to grow for a few more years," I reply.

"I'll be as tall as Billy next year."

I ruffle his hair and he sputters.  "I don't think you can really make your body
grow on demand.  If you could, I'm sure all of the Hobbits would be basketball
players by now."

Speaking of Hobbits, Orli's hugging each of them, and giving them sloppy kisses on
the cheek.  Ever since we arrived at the beach, he's been very careful about
keeping his affections focused purely on the Hobbits, and I'm happy that he's
being so understanding about this.

Uh oh, Orli's looking at us with a mischievous glint in his eye.  Wonder if he
conspired with the Hobbits to dunk me into the surf?  Shit, he's coming this
way...

Hmm, the Hobbits are heading back into the water. Thank God...I'm safe for now.
At least, I think I'm safe until Orli tries to tug me to my feet.

"Oi, if you're going to keep Henry land bound, the least you could do is join
us," he says.

Oh no.  No fucking way.  "Are you nuts?  I'll look like a moron out there."

I'm hoping that Orli will take the hint, but he's got that determined look.  Shit,
I'm doomed.

"None of us wank...er, blokes knew how to surf when we started.  We just kept
going and didn't give a toss what anyone else thought.  Come on, Vig...it'll be
fun. Let your son live vicariously.  Show him what a big stud you are."

Henry grins at me, "It would be really cool, Dad."

Yeah, I'm doomed.  Of course, Orli standing close to me in that wetsuit isn't
helping my resistance at all.  The latex clings to every curve on his firm ass,
and I know that the Speedo he's wearing underneath doesn't leave anything to the
imagination.

"Come on, Vig.  I'll take it easy on you.  Just this once?" Orli wheedles.  And
Henry is looking at me with his version of the dreaded puppy dog eyes.

I sigh heavily.  Might as well not delay the inevitable.  "I guess you packed a
spare wetsuit for me?"

Orli nods.  "I asked Elijah to rent you one.  Should fit you just fine.  He
brought an extra board, too."

Why am I not surprised?  Orli probably called Elijah as soon as he knew that we
were coming.  He's been trying to get me to surf for ages.  I grumble while the
three of us head out to the car; I may have resigned myself to this, but there's
no way I'm going to do it in silence.

Orli makes a snide comment about "whingy rangers" as he pulls the wetsuit out of
Elijah's trunk.  Hmmm, looks a little on the small side.  It's a challenge to
struggle into the latex sheath, and I'm glad that Orli's resisting the urge to
make any comments about how I'll probably need lube to ease the way.

Once I'm zipped up, Henry says, "You look great, Dad.  I can't wait to see you out
there."

Well, how can I resist encouragement like that?  I give Henry a hug before I pick
up the surfboard.  

"Let's go!" Orli crows before he bounces down to the water.

I catch up to him, and he beams at me as we start paddling out.  He's flushed with
joy, and his eyes are crinkling at the corners as he smiles.  I love it when he's
like this, his face is just dazzling, and I could gaze at him for hours.

Lowering my voice, I whisper, "Have I ever told you how beautiful you look when
you're this happy?"

Orli flushes a bright pink.  "Flattery won't get you out of this."

"Ah hell, you busted me.  I guess I should take it back," I reply, shrugging.

"Maybe I should make you sleep on the couch for being a smartarse," Orli teases
before he splashes water on my face.  "Come on, old man! Let's catch a wave!"

I follow Orli's lead and we paddle out until we reach a good spot.

"Now, you wait until a roller comes around and then you climb onto your board,"
Orli says to me.  Almost on cue, a wave crests underneath us.  Orli climbs onto
his board gracefully, whooping as he does so.  Trying to imitate him, I get
unsteadily onto my feet, trying to balance. 

To my surprise, I don't fall in, and I wobble back and forth as the water sweeps
me along.  Just when I think I've gotten the hang of it, something shifts and I
feel my board whipping out from underneath me.  Pain explodes on the right side of
my face and I'm suddenly sucking in water instead of air. I panic, thrashing
about, but a firm arm wraps around my torso and pulls me out of the water.

"Easy, luv," Orli murmurs, holding me up while he treads water.  I cough until I
see stars, clearing out the fluid from my lungs.

"I'm okay," I croak.  "You can let me go now."

"Bollocks," Orli says.  "I'm taking you back to shore so that I can check you
over."  

"Stop fussing, I can swim back."  My head's spinning like hell, but it's not
anything I can't handle.  Shit, it hurt a hell of a lot more when I sliced my lip
open on that barbed wire fence.

"Oh no, you don't," Orli says, keeping a good grip on me.  "As your boyfriend, I'm
exercising my right to be your nursemaid.  Besides, what if you're wrong and you
drown?"

"Orli..." my protest is cut short by those damn puppy dog eyes.  I give up, who
can resist them?  "Fine. I leave myself in your hands."  I say, sighing.

Orli hugs me before he swims back, towing me along. When he hauls me out of the
water, Henry rushes up, worried as hell.

"Holy shit, Dad, are you okay?  Oh my God, look at that bruise!"

My head's still very achy, so I don't yell at him for swearing.  The rest of the
Hobbits have come to shore and they help Orli drag me over to our abandoned beach
blanket.  

Orli tenderly examines my face, concentrating so hard that the tip of his tongue
is protruding from between his lips.  Uh oh...that frown on his face tells me that
something's wrong.

"Christ," Orli says.  "That's a hell of shiner you've got there...but you're not
bleeding, at least."

"Pete's going to kill you," Elijah says.  "There's no way make-up can cover that
thing."

"Bollocks," Orli groans.  "We're fucked."  He slaps his hand over his mouth and
says, "I mean, we're in deep...um..."

"Kimchee?" Elijah volunteers.

"Yeah, deep kimchee.  Get dressed, old man...we have to haul your arse off to the
emergency room.  Peter will skin me alive if we don't get you checked over."

Orli dismisses the Hobbits, reassuring all of them that things are fine, and he
can handle it. They leave, but I'm going to put my foot down about going to the
hospital.  I think Orli's being ridiculous. "I'm fine," I growl at him.  "I just
need some ice."

"No way, man!  Your face is all swollen up!"

Henry choses this point to pipe up.  "Dad's like the worst patient in the world.
When he was sick, he'd keep getting up to go into the studio to paint or write.
Exene almost sat on him once to make him stay in bed."

"Really?" Orli replies, looking pleased that Henry's finally talking to him.

"Uh huh.  And he won't take anything for pain.  He likes to tough it out."

Orli mutters, "Tell me about it.  He loves to headbutt the stunties until he can't
see."

Henry starts bouncing up and down, "Man! I should tell you about the time Dad cut
his finger open while he was making dinner...he just kept going.  I thought for
sure that he'd bleed all over the food."

Orli starts telling another story about me, and I realize that I'd better put my
foot down before he leaks out something embarrassing.  "All right, that's enough."

"Are you going to come to the emergency room?" Orli says, arching an eyebrow.  "Or
should I tell Henry about what happened at Astin's last party?"

Oh God.  The last thing Henry needs to hear is what I did with the squashes that
were sitting on Sean's table while I was drunk off of my ass.  "You wouldn't..."

"Wanna bet?" Orli says.  Crap, he's getting that determined look in his eye.

Henry tilts his head to the side and looks at me quizzically.  "Huh?  Did Dad get
wasted or something?"

Orli says, "Well, you see, Chris likes to keep these squashes in a basket on the
dining room table..."

"All right!  I'm going!" I yell out.

"Thought you'd come around," Orli says as he hauls me to my feet.

*****

After waiting around forever in the emergency room, the doctor finally examines
me.  And he pretty much says what I expected -- except for the bruising, there's
no other trauma.  I could have told Orli that, but I don't think he would have
listened.

At least one good thing came out of going to the emergency room, though.  I think
that while I was being examined, Henry resolved whatever tension he had towards
Orli. I had no idea at first -- as soon as I came out and told them that I could
go, Orli insisted on driving us back.  He had called Peter about the accident, and
we had been given the night off.

On the way home, Orli and Henry kept chatting with ease.  They were still talking
when Orli pulled into the driveway.  He then scampered out and insisted on walking
me inside, overriding my protests.

The fussing didn't stop there -- Orli made me lie down on the couch, insisting
that there was no need to cook and that he'd order take-out; he fetched a pillow
and a blanket for me, and he poured me a shot of scotch for "medicinal uses".

"I'm fine," I growl at him.  "You probably have better things to do tonight."

"Now, now...you should rest up, and I know that if I don't stay here, you'll get
up and start puttering around."

Damnit, he's worse than a mother hen.  "Orli, I don't need to be babied.  I can
take care of myself."

Henry gives me one of his most pitiful looks.  "Dad, why can't Orli stay over
tonight?  You need someone to take care of you."

What?  Did I hear what I thought I heard?

"Fantastic!" Orli giggles.  "You've stunned him speechless, mate." He tucks my
blanket closer around my neck and turns to speak to Henry again.  "You realize, of
course, that it means that I'm going to spend the evening kicking your arse in
Soul Caliber?"

"No way," Henry shoots back. "You suck at it."

"Really?" Orli replies.  "Then fire up the Dreamcast, and I'll show you who
sucks."

The room is soon filled with laughter and loud exclamations, and I smile as I
watch the two most important people in my life play with each other as if it's the
most natural thing in the world. Orli's enjoying himself immensely, giggling and
shouting expletives whenever Henry scores a hit.  His eyes are dancing with glee,
and I can see the same expression reflected in Henry's face.  Content, I drift off
to sleep, happy that my son has now accepted the love of my life.

---end part 17





Author's Name: Lostiawen e-mail: changeling@planetx.org Fic Title: Boundaries
(18/20) Rating: NC-17 Pairing: OB/VM

Genre: RPS Archive: Mirrormere, CIB, More Than Mates, Aniron, VOLA, Lirimaer.  All
others please ask.

Summary: Fulfilling an Elven fantasy.

Warnings: Role-playing, bondage, simulated non-con.

Feedback: Yes, please.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, none of this really happened.  The author
is not associated with or is implying anything about the sexual preferences or the
lives of the people depicted within.

Author's Notes : Sorry about the delay again.  RL was harsh, and I couldn't get
Viggo to shut up. :)  Also, this chapter is filled with smutty goodness to make up
for the smut-free chapters.

Many thanks to Salix for her suggestions and help.  And a big huzzah to Elizabeth.
Hope this chapter provides a nice welcome back present sweetie!

Posted Aug. 22, 2005

***** "Surrender to me," Legolas purrs as his lips ghost over my naked, spread-
eagled body.  His sapphire blue eyes are scintillating with an unearthly glow,
burning my soul with the cold fire flickering within the depths of his gaze.

"No, stop..." I whimper, struggling against the ropes binding my wrists.

His melodious chuckle causes a shiver to travel through me. "Your body betrays
you," he purrs, running a finger up the seam of my dripping cock.

Shocks course through my nervous system, and I try to shamelessly beg him to take
me, but my voice won't work. Cursing, I thrust my hips upward to gain more
friction....

Orlando's loud moan wakes me up, and after a bit of disorientation, I realize that
I'm spooned up against him in our bed.  I have hazy memories of being woken up
sometime during the night and being coaxed into relocating by a very persistent
Orli. It makes sense...he never sleeps very well if I'm not there, and he's been
staying at his house for the past few days.  

Of course, if I keep molesting him like this, he's never going get any shuteye.
It looks like my dream was so intense that I pushed my throbbing dick into the
cleft of his ass and started grinding against him. I should pull back, but he
feels so good.  Too good. Unable to resist the temptation, I rub against him and
he groans again at twice his normal volume. Shit, he'll wake Henry up at this
rate.

"Quiet," I whisper into his ear.

He murmurs something and pushes his ass back, his arms flailing around as he does
so.  I growl in frustration --he's still asleep and I'm horny as hell.  It would
be really unfair of me to wake him up, so I guess I'll either have to whack off or
find some way to kill my erection.

Masturbating is the easier option, especially since Orlando can get me hard by
just breathing the right way. I try to roll to the side to take care of my
problem, but Orli stops me by grabbing my hand in a death grip.

"Stay, d'mnit," he mumbles before he presses my palm against his chest, bringing
my fingers in contact with his very hard nipple.

My cock jumps as soon as my fingers brush across the nub.  Great, I either lie
here until I die from blue balls or I go to Plan B.  I'd really rather not think
about Nancy Reagan giving blowjobs, but I guess it'll have to do...

That scheme immediately goes out the window when Orli starts rotating his ass in
small circles against my shaft. My eyes roll back into my head as he rubs against
me, letting out sleepy murmurs of pleasure. As he continues to grind, his tongue
flicks over his lips and he moans as his head lolls back to rest on my shoulder. I
rock into him, and when he whimpers in response, his voice is so thick with lust
that all thoughts of letting him doze away just snap.

I yank open the nightstand drawer, almost pulling it out all the way while I
fumble for the lube.  Once I have the bottle in my hand, I slick myself up with a
couple of hasty swipes.  Meanwhile, Orli has drifted back to sleep, a tiny smile
ghosting across his lips while he makes light snuffling noises.

Let's see if we can change that a bit...I position myself and push my cock slowly
inside of him.  I hiss as I slide in -- it's a constant source of wonder to me
that he's always so tight.  God, he feels wonderful... His eyelashes flutter as I
bury myself in his warmth and I can see that he's about to cry out.  Working fast,
I clap my hand over his mouth, containing his moans.        

He arches against me, every inch of him quivering, clenching his ass around my
erection.  That's all the acknowledgement I need before I start pounding, watching
him claw the sheets as I bury myself inside him over and over again. His muscles
ripple along my dick, and I can't hold it in any longer.  I drive into him one
final time, burying my face in his shoulder as my orgasm crashes through my body.
I hear Orli responding with a scream that would have been ear-splitting if my hand
wasn't there to muffle it.  He slams back, every muscle quivering as hot liquid
spurts out of his cock.

I fly high for who knows how long before I come back to reality.  When I can
focus, I see that Orli has a languid, content smile on his face. His face is
covered in a light sheen of perspiration, and his mohawk is ruffled in a dozen
places.  I can't wait for his hair to grow out again, because I'd love to see what
his curls look like after he's been well-fucked.

"Wow," is all I have the brain cells to say.

He stretches and purrs, "Yeah, that was fantastic.  I love being woken up with a
nice shag."

I'm about to nuzzle his damp neck, but I pause when I see a reddish spot on his
shoulder.  What in the...crap, it looks like I bit him while I was coming; and I
did it hard enough to break the skin.  "Fuck!  I'm sorry."

Orli looks confused.  "Hmm?  For what?" he replies.

"This," I say, pointing to the wound.

He squints at it and giggles.  "Don't be daft.  Why do you think I came harder
than a freight train?"

What?  I think my jaw must be hanging open because Orli giggles again.  "Come on,
Vig.  You can't think that I bottomed without getting into some kind of pain,
yeah?"

I shiver at the thought.  "Sorry...that's just something I still can't get into."

Orli twists around so that he can reach over and caress my cheek. "Don't worry
about it.  But you made me remember an important bit --just to avoid crossed
wires; I'm thinking that we should set aside some time each day to talk about your
fantasies. That way, I can figure out how far I can push you, instead of
blundering ahead."

As soon as Orli finishes his sentence, he begins to twitch nervously.  I cuddle
him closer.  "It sounds good, and you really haven't been that bad."  

I'm rewarded with a megawatt smile.  "Really, really?"

"Really, Elf Boy."

He beams again and presses a kiss to my hand.  "Have a time in mind?"

"Maybe after dinner?  That'll give us some space to mellow out after work and
settle in."

"Sounds fantastic," he replies before his nose crinkles.  "Ew, we're getting kind
of sticky.  We should probably clean up before I start itching."

Orli's clean-freak attack makes me chuckle, and the vibrations cause my soft cock
to flop out of his ass with a none too elegant squelch.  He giggles at the noise
and says, "Christ, now you've left a wet spot, filthy human."

"*I* left a wet spot?" I reply with mock indignation. 

He turns his head and cranes his neck around so that he can look behind him.
"Well...that's your come, lube, and general ranger ick there, isn't it?"

I point at the damp patch in front of his crotch.  "As if you didn't make a mess,
too.  What do you call that?"

Orli nibbles his lip and then replies in a serious voice, "Dainty Elven fluid.
It'll disappear in a tick without leaving a mark, and it's as clean as water."

Okay, we've now both officially gone insane.  I could say something witty, but
instead I decide to smack Orli with a pillow. He girly-shrieks and retaliates in
kind.  We're soon beaning each other vigorously, yelping and cursing until Henry
shouts through the wall, "Hey!  *Some* of us are trying to sleep before our flight
out tomorrow!"

"Sleep on the plane!" Orli yells back before he gets a face full of pillow.  

He sputters before he pounces on me, howling like a gorilla. I start wrestling
with him, grinning as I hear the Smashing Pumpkins blasting from Henry's room.  So
much for sleeping.  We don't have to be up for a few more hours, which is more
than enough time for another round or three.  

****

Henry is pretty surly in the morning, muttering about "needing some serious
therapy" after we woke him up.  Orli responds by planting a sloppy kiss on my
lips.

Henry's face scrunches up and he grumbles, "Great, there's no way I'm going to eat
breakfast now." 

I snort as I pull out a frying pan.  "I know that's going to last for all of two
seconds.  You never could turn down my bacon."

"You made bacon?" Henry says eagerly.  He pouts when I chuckle at him. "Okay,
fine.  You win."

Orli pats him on the shoulder, "Don't worry about it.  Viggo's fish always gets
me.  He knows the way to everyone's stomach in the Fellowship."

"Everyone's?" Henry says.

Orli rubs his chin.  "Hmmm, maybe not BK's, come to think about it."  He then
proceeds to tell Henry about the time BK and I cooked up a salmon that I had
caught.  He's not as good as Dom is with imitating accents, but he still manages
to capture BK's rapid fire orders, along with the wild gestures he makes.

Henry laughs until tears pour from his eyes, and he prods Orli for more stories.
To my embarrassment, Orli does his best to fulfill Henry's request, even detailing
the time Kiran scared the shit out of me when he told me that he couldn't swim.

Once that last story is told, I notice the time.  "We should get moving if you're
going to catch your plane."

Henry jumps up and Orli says, "I'll help your Dad clean up while you finish
packing."

"Thanks!" Henry replies before he scurries back to his bedroom.

I must have looked annoyed, because Orli winds his arms around my midriff from
behind.  "I'm sorry, did I go too far?" he says with concern.

I turn my head around so that I can kiss him briefly.  "No...besides, I'm sure
Henry loved seeing you torture me like that."

"And I'm sure you were willing to endure it if it meant some more bonding time."

"You know me too well," I reply, touching my forehead to his.

***

We see Henry off with very little fanfare, and then it's back to work for us.  The
months just fly by after that; we have a lot to film, and Peter keeps us hideously
busy. However, no matter how tired we are, we always take time out to discuss my
comfort level with our playing.  Things are pretty slow at first -- we just do
plain bondage for a while, but eventually I start opening up. 

I can't describe how powerful it feels to know that I can set our limits, and that
if I want to be pushed a certain week, I can let Orli know about it.  As time goes
on, it dawns on me that the bottom is really the controlling person in a BDSM
relationship.  The top may be giving the orders, but the bottom sets the brakes.
That, and the bottom has it easy.  Yes, you may be put into uncomfortable
positions during playtime, but you don't have to do all of the prep work of
setting the scene and playing it out.  

When I tell Orli this, he gives me a slight smile and says, "I knew you'd figure
it out eventually."

I shake my head.  "And I can see now why things just went so fast...I wish I had
figured out that diving in headlong wasn't working."

"And I think that this wouldn't have happened if I wasn't such a wanker. I assumed
that after our first discussion, you would pick up that you could always talk
about what didn't work.  I usually have a chat up with my subs after a scene, but
since we were in a relationship, I thought that we'd naturally do that during the
day or something."  He sighs. "Fuck, I'm such a twat."

I wrap my arm around his waist and pull him against me as we continue to walk
across the parking lot.  There's a long break between shots today, so we've
decided that we need to get some more sword training in.  "Stop blaming yourself.
We're fixing everything now, and that's what's important."

He beams at me.  "You always know just what to say. Come on...it's time for us to
get our arses kicked by orcs."

I give him another kiss before we enter the building, knowing that I won't have a
chance to get affectionate once Bob gets his hands on us.  Sure enough, he keeps
both of us busy all afternoon, and I'm tired as hell when Bob has the stunties
ease off.

He nods and says, "Good!  All of you can have a break and we'll try those routines
again!" 

Karl and Dave are there too, and they groan as they flop down in a corner.  I give
them both a sympathetic glance before I stumble over to the fountain to get a
drink, stretching my arms to ease the mild soreness.  Orli intercepts me midway
and holds out his water bottle.

"I don't know why you insist on drinking out of that thing.  The water's tepid and
tastes like arse."

I gratefully take it from him.  The water's ice cold, which I could use right now.
Before I tilt the bottle back, I purr under my breath, "I thought I was the expert
on what a butt tastes like.  Especially yours."

He blushes a bright red and lowers his eyes.  Okay, I'll admit that I'm slightly
evil, because I love doing that to him. "You know, some tops would tan your hide
for a comment like that," he growls.

"Uh huh.  Tell me a new one," I say.

"Cheeky," Orli replies, sticking his tongue out at me.

Bob looks like he's ready to start up, so I give Orli a brief peck on the lips.
"Bob's got to torture me again."

"Well, that makes two of us," Orli says.  He picks up his knives, winking at me as
he twirls them.  "All right! Bring it on, you poncy orcs!" he yells as he bounces
up to the stunties.

I can't help breaking into a wide smile at his enthusiasm. It buoys me up as I
resume practice, repeating each routine so that it can embed itself in my muscle
memory.

At the next break, Orli gives me a peck and says, "I'm done for today, how about
you?"

I shake my head.  "I have the choreography down, but I want to stay a bit longer
so that I can refine my moves.  Go on ahead without me."

"You'll still have enough energy for tonight?" Orli asks.

There's no way I'm going to miss out on tonight's discussion.  "I will, don't
worry about it."  

"Fantastic.  What do you fancy for dinner?"

"You can just pick up my usual from the Parrot."

"Will do.  See ya later," Orli says before he kisses me and bounces off.  

I watch the motion of his luscious ass as I walk back over to where Bob is
waiting, feeling like the luckiest man in the world.  My happiness chases away the
last of my exhaustion, and I'm practically bouncing around when we're finally
dismissed.

Karl and Dave are moaning about needing a stiff drink or three to take the ache
out of their muscles. I'm concerned about getting home so that Orli and I can have
enough playtime tonight, so I politely turn them down while I pack everything up.
Once I'm done, I sprint for the car, which makes Dave and Karl shake their heads
in disbelief.

"Where in fuck do you get your energy, Viggo?"  Karl calls out.

"I picked it up from Orli," I yell back before I leave.  I hear Dave say something
about "elven spunk being a fountain of youth" before I drive off.

That's an interesting thought, and I'm sure Aragorn would be very interested in
exploring that theory. There were plenty of times during film one where he and
Legolas could have sneaked off, and I'm sure that Aragorn would be more than
willing to drop to his knees and suck Legolas' cock.  A shudder passes through me
as I picture Legolas forcing Aragorn to the ground and twining his long fingers in
the ranger's hair, demanding to be brought to orgasm.  Shit, that's it...I need to
talk to Orli about that tonight.

It seems like forever before I make it home, and dinner is waiting for me, just as
Orli promised.  I eat fast, ignoring Orli's teasing about being too eager about
"getting shagged good and hard tonight".

After I clean up, Orli sits down and says, "So, has anything tickled your fancy
this week?"

I try to answer him, but this is more difficult than I thought.  Orli doesn't
pressure me, he just waits, knowing that I need patience.  It seems like forever
before I finally spit it out.  "Um, I don't know how to say this...but I've been
having these...interesting dreams."

His eyes dance with mischief.  "Oh really?  Care to go into more detail?"

I feel my face burning.  "Uh...well, Legolas is in them."

The words freeze in my throat, and I stumble over my next few words.  Orli pats my
hand and says, "It's okay.  Take all the time you need."

He sits still and continues to wait, without any sign of exasperation.  That helps
me relax enough to tell him what happened in my Legolas dreams in graphic detail.
Orli listens to every word, and he occasionally quizzes me on what turned me on
about a specific scenario.

When I finish, I notice that I'm not the only one who finds them incredibly hot --
Orli's pupils are dilated and his breath is hitching.  Not I'm not doing much
better; memories of Legolas ravishing me causes all of the blood to pool in my
groin, and my cock is steadily leaking when I finish. 

He stalks over to me, and I can see the need thrumming in his body.  "Well, that
explains why you've been moaning out Legolas' name in your sleep.  So, what do you
want to do about them, Vig?" he asks in a low growl.

Oh great, I've been talking out loud when I was dreaming. Still...that doesn't
seem to concern Orli and I feel encouraged to put forth my next question.
"Could...could we act them out?"

"Are you sure?"

I nod.  "I'm sure.  God, I wake up so fucking hard after I have them."

Orli's brow furrows for a second, and then he says, "I can't exactly do what you
dreamed of.  Is some modification okay?"

"That's perfectly fine, babe."

"And do you want me to be as rough as Legolas was?  How much do you want me to
fight you?"

I chuckle at the thought.  Even though I'm not exactly buff, I still outweigh Orli
by a good amount.  "As much as your skinny body can handle. I'm more afraid of
accidentally overpowering you."

As soon as the words leave my mouth, Orli gives me a devilish smile.  "That's
something you actually won't have to worry about.  Feel free to struggle."

My cock twitches at the suggestion.  "Are you sure about that?"

He kisses me gently.  "I'm sure.  Come to the bedroom and let me get some
supplies.  Wait... fill a bowl with some oil first and bring it back. They didn't
really have lube in Middle Earth."

"All right," I say as he retreats down the hallway.

I stroll into the kitchen, selecting a bowl that doesn't look too modern.  After I
dump the oil into it, I come into the bedroom, grinning when I see that Orli is
bent over at the hips, rummaging in the bottom drawer of his dresser.

I'm still admiring the view when Orli lets out a cry of triumph and produces a t-
shirt that his aunt had bought for him.  He's never liked the way it fits, so I
wound up borrowing it. It's a little tight on me, but Orli gets very turned on if
I lift weights in it, so it's become my work-out shirt.

I still associate that article of clothing with a great afternoon we had.  I was
wearing it during an extremely hot day and I had been sweating up a storm -- my
clothes were plastered to my body, and I couldn't move without having something
stick to my nuts or my ass.  Then I made the mistake of having Orli spot me on the
bench press.

According to Orli, he could see every single muscle in my chest and arms flexing
while I did my reps, which got him worked up. In retaliation, he positioned
himself so that I could look straight up his shorts; giving me a prime view of the
effect I was having on him. I have no idea how I managed it, but I somehow kept
myself focused enough to do the rest of my set.  After I was done, Orli yanked
down my shorts and demanded that I fuck him before he exploded from frustration.

I still remember how sexy Orli looked as he straddled my hips -- head tilted back
as he impaled himself on my cock, tongue flickering over his parted lips...it's a
good thing no one was around, because he was exceptionally loud that day,
screaming his lungs out until we both collapsed in a sticky, sweaty heap.

I hear a snipping noise, and it pulls me back to the present. Orli's using
scissors to cut the threads on the seams of the t-shirt, and he gazes at me with a
mischievous glint in his eyes as he does so.  He then produces a pair of shorts
that I permanently loaned to him -- I threw them in the dryer on too high a
setting, and they shrunk to the point where I can't wear them in public without
getting arrested.  I think a third of his wardrobe is byproducts of my laundry
accidents.

He gives the shorts the same treatment and then he hands them over along with the
t-shirt. I whistle when I glance at the seams -- there is literally only a few
threads holding the cloth together, and one false move will rip them open. Which
I'm sure was the intention. While I'm admiring his handiwork, Orli pulls open a
drawer in the nightstand and retrieves my collar.  I shudder as he wraps it around
my neck and locks it in place.  

He says, "I can't nick your costume for role-playing, so you'll have to use your
imagination.  Put these clothes on."

I snort at the inside joke.  Everyone in the Fellowship wore something underneath
their costumes, so t-shirts and shorts could be passable sleep gear if you stretch
your brain a little.  Well, everyone except Orli and myself.  We decided to go
commando on a regular basis after the Misty Mountains scene, since having that
itchy fake snow trapped in our boxers gave both of us a slight rash.  Anyway, I
thought it was more authentic for Aragorn to go without underwear, and Orli didn't
like the way "those fucking leggings show unsightly panty lines."

Orli's busy now, fishing inside his closet for his own outfit; after a lot of
muttering, he settles for leather pants and a loose, peasant-style white shirt.
I'm lagging behind because I have a hell of a time getting the t-shirt over my
head.  It was always a bitch to put on, and I have to go slowly or I'll tear the
seams open. While I'm fumbling around, Orli retrieves several lengths of rope from
our toybox.

I'm too busy struggling into the shorts to react. Once I stuff myself in, I see
Orli coiling the rope and stashing it inside his pocket, looking at me with a
predatory grin.  My cock hardens even further, straining the material almost to
the breaking point.

Orlando's eyes flick down to my blatantly outlined erection and he runs his tongue
over his lips.  His voice lowers an octave and he says, "Okay, here's the scoop --
Legolas fancies Aragorn quite a bit, but the ranger's pretty thick.  He keeps
seeing Leggy as a friend and just indulges in manly hugs with him.  Leggy
tolerates this until he sees Aragorn kissing Arwen on the bridge and then he goes
completely apeshit.  He decides to find Aragorn, who's retiring for the night, and
show him exactly what he's missing."

The deep growl in his words causes me to shiver. "Sounds good..."

"Get into position by the window, Vig.  Keep your back to me."

I nod and I stroll over to the spot Orli indicated, thinking about the enormous
sacrifice that Arwen has performed for me.  I feel both elated and distressed that
the love of my life is giving up her immortality for me.

A hand on my shoulder startles me out of my reverie, and I grab it, intending to
deal with the intruder. There's a blur of movement, and I'm slammed to the ground
before I can react. I spot a familiar braid of blond hair in my peripheral vision,
and I snicker.  I have no idea why Legolas decided to start a wrestling match, but
the elves are quite playful.  I don't mind indulging in a small tussle, so I don't
offer any resistance when he rolls me onto my back.

The laughter dies in my throat when I see Legolas' face. His eyes are blazing with
raw fury.  Odd, I've known Legolas since I came of age, and he's always been calm
and composed.  He's also using his full weight to pin me down, immobilizing me.

"Your senses are weak, human," he hisses in a voice as cold as the winter.

This doesn't make any sense whatsoever; he was overjoyed to see me just a few
hours ago. Have I offended him somehow?  "What angers you, mellon-nin?"

He lowers his face down to mine and growls, "I saw you on the bridge today.  With
Arwen."

"You were spying on me??? How dare you?" I flex my arms to push him off, but he
shifts and prevents me from moving.

"Are you blind, Aragorn?  We have fought and bled together...how could you cast me
aside like common refuse?"  He looks at me, and I see the pain of several decades
mirrored in his eyes.

This can't be possible...I refuse to believe it. The ring must have ensnared him.
"Release me, mellon-nin," I say quietly, trying to placate my friend.

That was the wrong response.  His gaze turns dark again.  "Do not feign ignorance.
I have seen how you look at me when we bathe in the river."

Now I know he's gone mad, and I try to dislodge him with all of my strength.  It's
futile -- Legolas skillfully immobilizes me, and he presses the length of his body
against mine.

Oh, no...he's hard.  Does that mean...no, that's impossible. I'm still frozen in
shock when Legolas snarls, "Since you insist on denying me, I will have to open
your eyes." He seizes the collar of my tunic and jerks down, ripping the cloth
apart with ease and baring my torso.

"No!" I cry out, fighting as much as I can.  My struggles are in vain -- the
prowess of the elves is legendary, and I can't break his hold.

Fire leaps in my veins as he bites my neck.  No!  I cannot...I am not interested
in him in a carnal fashion.  "Legolas... stop this."

The feral glint in his eyes is not comforting, and I'm disturbed by the pulse I
feel in my groin as he rakes his eyes over my chest.

"Nay.  You have denied me for far too long," he purrs.  He produces a length of
rope and binds my wrists with one end.  I spit curses at him, but he pays them no
heed, dragging me across the floor until I'm close to the bed.  In moments, he's
secured the other end of the rope to the footboard.

Realizing that he intends to fully restrain me, I try to use my legs to flip him
off my body.  He's too swift, though.  Before I can get any leverage, he shifts
his weight onto my thighs, holding me in place. He pulls out more rope, and my
ankles are tied, leaving me in a spread-eagled position.

"Now...I can do as I wish to you.  Your torment will be extensive, mellon-nin.  I
have no intention of ceasing until you beg me for release," Legolas murmurs.

The lust in his deep voice reverberates through every inch of me, and I shiver at
the caressing tones, sinful images forming unbidden in my mind.  I try to squelch
them, trying to keep my traitorous body from responding and failing utterly.  My
cock swells, pushing against my breeches until the cloth strains to its breaking
point.

Legolas chuckles and runs a finger along the outline of my hard shaft; his lips
curling up in an amused grin when I squirm.  "You want me," he coos.  "Do not
fight it."

"No," I reply feebly, trying to ignore the urgent throbbing between my legs which
is sapping my will to fight.  Desperation flares within me, and I thrash against
the cotton rope.  "Let me go."  

"You forget...*I* am in control here," he replies before he swoops down and
captures one of my nipples in his mouth. I cry out, arching against the wet heat
lapping along my sensitive skin.  

"Stop!" I protest, but it trails off into a low moan when he traces his tongue
over the area in small circles, coaxing my flesh into a stiff peak.  I let out a
choked gasp when his hand skates down, cupping and massaging the bulge between my
legs.

"That's it...let your body speak for you," he says in a low voice, his fingers
caressing me until I feel like I'm going to go mad.  The material of my breeches
rubs against my aching cock and I can't stop my hips from pushing upward. Legolas
grins predatorily at my reaction, increasing the pressure until I'm twisting
against my bonds.

"Is something troubling you?" he says with amusement.

I can't...this is wrong...I need to retain my self-control.  "Release me," I croak
out.

"Nay," he replies.  "I see that you require stronger persuasion."  Before I can
reason with him, his fingers latch onto the waistband of my breeches and he tears
them off with a swift yank.

I have to stop him.  "Legolas! Don't...unggh..." I start to say, but it turns into
a gurgle when he dips his head down and flicks his tongue across the tip of my
erection.  He rubs his lips in the moisture beading out and pulls back slowly,
drawing out a long thread of fluid between us. All reason has fled my mind at this
decadent sight, and all I can do is gape in wonder.

"What were you saying?" he purrs before he licks a hot stripe down the seam of my
cock.  I let out another breathy cry, and he travels back up my shaft, alternating
between languid swipes from his clever tongue and light suckling.  Desire courses
through me, and I pull on my bindings and whimper, knowing that I'm helpless and
at his complete mercy.

My head's thrashing from side to side...I'm drowning in sensation, and the breath
in my lungs is coming out in ragged pants.  He drives me into a sheer frenzy, and
I flex as hard as I can against the unyielding rope, trying to do something,
anything to get more contact.

The touch of his fingers against my entrance shocks me back to reality.  I can't
let him do this. "Stop!" I cry out, renewing my struggles.

With a smirk, Legolas dips his hand into the bowl of oil nearby.  Without any
warning, he pushes a finger into me, causing me to quiver.

"I expected more resistance, Aragorn," he says.  "Perhaps you want this?"

"Never!" I spit, but the venom in my words dissolves into a needy moan when
Legolas brushes something inside of me, causing shocks to electrify my body.  I
have no idea what he's touched, but it is nothing like I've felt before.  

"I'm sorry, but my hearing appears to be defective.  What do you wish me to do?"
he purrs, before stroking the spot again.

I moan, the power of speech robbed by his skillful, light caresses.  He continues
rubbing that area inside of me until I'm pushing down on his fingers, panting
heavily.  My body is heated beyond belief, and I still crave more.  

Getting too hard to think...I ache so much... I'm still in a fog when Legolas
abruptly stops.  My eyes are closed, and I hear the creak of leather and the
scrape of clay along the floor.  I mumble something incoherent when he unties one
of my ankles and pushes my knee up to my chest. But then I feel his slick cock
nudging me --is he going to...

"No!" 

"It is futile to resist," Legolas says before he slides in.

I writhe when Legolas impales me.  I try to get away, but any backward motion is
thwarted by the ropes. His hand caresses my hip, as if he were gentling a panicked
animal.  "Give in to your passion, melamin," he coos.  "Can you not feel my hunger
for you?"

"Stop," I protest weakly, but he pulls back until just the head of his cock rests
inside of me and then pushes back in, dragging his hard flesh over that sensitive
spot deep within me. Sparks explode behind my eyes, and I throw my head back,
voicing my pleasure.  Legolas smiles as he continues to thrust, stealing away my
reason again as blinding pleasure courses through every inch of my body. 

"That's it...surrender to me," he purrs. His voice is a low rumble, dripping with
barely restrained need, and the sound of it almost makes me climax then and there.
He latches onto my chest, sucking and nibbling my skin until I'm on fire. His
strong hands caress every inch of my exposed flesh, stoking my lust even higher.

"Legolas," I choke out, arching against him.

He doesn't reply, but he continues to touch me, inside and out. The pleasure
builds until I feel as if I'm bursting at the seams.  I arch up, straining against
my bonds as I try to get some contact.  Legolas moans as his pace increases,
pushing me across the carpet.

I feel a touch between my legs, and my eyes widen as I realize that he's gently
easing a finger into my entrance, alongside his thrusting shaft. Pure ecstasy
floods my system, overloading my senses and sending the world spinning out of
control. Legolas crooks his finger inside of me and I spasm upward, gurgling
incoherently.

Smirking, he says, "Do you surrender now?" His finger rubs my sensitive spot,
destroying the last of my sanity.

"Yes," I moan.  "Make me yours..."  I push down, pleading with my eyes to be
released from my torment.

Legolas pulls his finger out without replying. Before I can complain, he slams
into me, filling me until I feel the echo of his thrust in the back of my throat.
The shocks haven't died down when Legolas grabs my hips and pounds into me,
pumping inside until all conscious thought is destroyed, and all I can do is drown
in sensation.

I'm melting, dissolving under the sweet assault; I'm his...his plaything for
however long he will have me.  Every time his hips meet my flesh, I beg without
shame for more, chanting out his name as if it was an obscene prayer.

"Fuck..." he moans, "Getting close...oh God!"  He throws his head back and his
lips part as he slams into me one final time, wailing as he fills me with his
release. The sight of him in complete ecstasy drives me to the edge, and I'm
trembling as he drifts back down, craving relief.

He grabs my cock and tugs on it.  "You can come now," he purrs, twisting his hand
along the length.  The world turns to white light as I scream out his name,
splattering hot liquid over my chest and stomach.  I drift in a pleasant haze for
what seems like an eternity, reveling in the buzzing glow blanketing everything.

Orli's voice brings me crashing back.

"Shite, I need to pull out so that I can clean off my trousers," he mutters while
he unlocks my
Lube stains are hell to get out."

I'm still in Aragorn's headspace, so I briefly think that it's Legolas swearing
his pretty little head off in a Canterbury accent.  The dichotomy is both strange
and fucking funny, and I just lose it, giggling like a madman.

"What?  They do stain," Orli whines before he pulls out, which makes me laugh even
more.  Every time I try to stop, something else sets me off, and it just snowballs
until tears are leaking from my eyes.

By the time I can finally compose myself, Orli has stripped off his outfit and
untied my limbs.  He's sitting cross-legged by my side, head cocked as he watches
me. "You're completely insane."

I kill a snuffle of laughter rising up.  "Sorry...I think it's the endorphins."

"Or else you're just mad."

"And who made me that way?" I ask, waggling my eyebrows.

He giggles and kisses me on the tip of my nose. "Okay, I guess I should share a
tiny bit of the blame... but only a little."  

I snuggle up to him and whisper, "Mmmm, do you know that you overemphasize your
glottal stops when you're really relaxed?"

Orli sighs, "Vig, could you speak English?"

"Your accent is stronger right after you give me a good fucking."

Orli rolls his eyes.  "I changed my mind; your insanity is completely your own
fault.  Should I leave the room before you start spouting dirty limericks in
Elvish?"

Uh oh...I know that edge in his voice.  He's starting to get really annoyed.  Orli
sometimes gets a little tweaked after an intense scene, and I can see that he
doesn't want to be messed with right now.

I force myself to sit up and kiss his pouting lips.  "Sorry, I think I'm just
punchy.  Everything was perfect, baby...I'm impressed that you stayed in character
throughout the whole scene."

Orli lowers his eyes and blushes.  "I wanted to make it good for you, yeah?"

"It was more than good," I murmur before I press a kiss to the side of his jaw.
I'm tempted to ask him how he tossed me around so easily during our role-playing,
but that can wait.  "I love you."

He cups my face in his hands before he gives me a toe-curling kiss.  "I love you,
too."  

----end part 18





Title: Boundaries (19/20) Type: RPS Author: Lostiawen (changeling@planetx.org)
Rating: NC-17 Pairing:  OB/SB/VM Website: http://www.planetx.org/
~changeling/index.html

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, none of this really happened.  The author
is not associated with or is implying anything about the sexual preferences or the
lives of the people depicted within.

Warnings: Some pretty harsh humiliation play (don't say I didn't warn you),
simulated rape, role-playing, cream facial, coarse language, snowballing, and
tongues meet floors.

Feedback: Yes, please.

Notes: Sorry for the length (this monster is 12,600 words!), but this chapter has
one of the nastiest and not very sexy pieces of humiliation play that I've ever
written. I originally didn't mean for it to come out that way, but that's where my
muses led me.  It's something that had to be explored, since men tend to get into
humiliation play, and not all of it is nice.

That said, the reason why this chapter is so long is because I didn't want to
leave people hanging after the intense scene.

Many thanks to Salix for her suggestions and ideas, and a big smooch goes to
Elizabeth for encouraging me to run with this thing.  Thank you for supporting me
and preventing me from toning it down, babe.

And yeah, I know, Orli kills coffee makers.  But I started the series before that
little tidbit came out.

Posted Oct. 17, 2005

Summary: Giving Sean a going away present.

*****

Sean is grinning from ear to ear when we stumble into the Cuntebago for our
morning call.  "Looks like someone's had a good night.  Do you need a soft cushion
for your chair, Vig?"

I feel a slight tingle in my groin as I replay parts of last night's role-playing.
"Fuck you," I say without heat. "My ass is fine."

"But he's got carpet burn all over his back and his shoulders are a wee bit
sore," Orli adds with a knowing smirk. "And I gave him a hell of a bruise on his
hip."

"Ah, young love..." Sean says, fluttering his eyelashes.

"Shut it, you wanker!  Vig just wanted a bit of rough and tumble."

Sean's grin widens.  "I'm not surprised.  He grabs every opportunity he can to
wrestle with me."  

Okay, I'd better divert this conversion before they start talking about me as if
I'm not here.  I squeeze Orli in a bear hug and push up his sleeve. "Would you
believe that these skinny little arms can toss me around like nobody's business?
When Orli jumped me last night, he slammed me to the ground using some sort of
judo hold before I could lay a finger on him."

Sean doesn't even react.  "Nope, not surprised at all. They teach classes on how
to do that sort of thing in the BDSM community."

"What?"

Orli beams when he sees my confused expression.  Evil fucking elf.  "You wouldn't
believe how many big, burly men really love the idea of tiny women overpowering
them.  It sounded like something I could use, so I took lessons as soon as I could
free up the time.  And it was cool, man, I was the tallest one there."

"That's because you were the only bloke," Sean remarks.

"Cunt," Orli growls.

"Sod off."  

Before the argument can degenerate more, the door creaks open, signaling the fact
that Tanya's arriving.  The three of us scatter and vault into our chairs. It's
best not to incur the wrath of your make-up artist; otherwise you'll wind up
looking like a drag queen.  

When Tanya steps in, we all smile at her, trying to look as innocent as possible.
She groans and says, "I know you three have been up to something.  One of these
mornings, I'm going to catch you three arsing around, and then there's going to be
hell to pay."

"We weren't doing anything," Orli says.

"Uh huh, right," she replies, taking our wigs off the shelf and inspecting them.
While she's setting up, I chuckle to myself, imagining what would have happened if
we had been less alert.

"What's so funny, Viggo?" she asks.

"Oh, nothing."  Some things are best left unsaid, and I'm sure our earlier
conversation qualifies as one of them.     


****

I start losing track of the days -- everything is just crashing down at a frantic
pace.  The script changes are now affecting huge chunks of the movie, fights still
need to be blocked out and aren't even close to being done, there are sets that
still haven't been built, and several key moments don't even exist on paper.  And
I'm not even counting the CGI that has to go into all three films.  Everyone's
working non-stop to make it happen, and I pitch in when I can between takes --
helping the crew lug stuff around, cleaning up; whatever I can do to make things
go faster.

The breakneck pace just increases my need to play, but with our crowded schedules
it's hard for us to find the time to do it. We wind up just setting aside Tuesdays
every week to do a scene, rain or shine, which usually means that we're zombies on
Wednesdays.

Frankly, I find it more relaxing than sleep, although Tanya always bitches at us
the next day for the dark circles under our eyes.  Just to keep the peace, I show
up every Wednesday morning with a box of Swiss truffles.

Our routine is interrupted one day when Sean stumbles into the Cuntebago later
than usual. He looks dejected, but before I can ask what's wrong, he says, "Well,
it's official.  Pete says that I'm filming my last scene next week."

Orlando looks crestfallen.  "Fuck, already?  Feels like you just got here, mate."

"We only have three months left, it makes sense," Sean replies.

My stomach sinks.  We've been living in each other's pockets for so long here that
it feels like a dream.  But the fact that Sean is leaving just bursts the
comfortable bubble that I've been floating in and brings some hard facts back to
reality.  One of which is that Orli and I will have to do a lot of thinking as to
how we're going to maintain a long distance relationship.

I wish to God I could go with him to India after we wrap, but it wouldn't be fair
to Henry.  Unfortunately, this means that it's going to be a long while before we
see each other again.  I already know that Orli's signed up for three films, and
more offers keep coming down the pike on a frightening basis.

Sean's yelp of surprise interrupts my wool-gathering. I look up to see what's
grabbed his attention, and my face cracks into a wide smile when I see that that
Orli has deposited himself into Sean's lap.

"I'm going to miss you, you daft bastard," Orli murmurs, throwing his arms around
Sean and hugging him tightly. "We had some good times, yeah? Once you thawed out
when we were trapped together after that landslide, that is."

"Shite, don't remind me about it," Sean says.

Orli sticks his tongue out.  "Sod off. It wasn't that bad, was it?"

Sean holds up his hand and begins to tick points off with his fingers.  "Let's
see, you were in an exclusive relationship with a vanilla person, so you either
tortured me with dull locker room talk about how great it was to shag on the couch
instead of the bed or else you'd tell me about how Jemma got daring once and
decided to play with chocolate body paint; you'd get squiffy after two glasses of
wine and then you'd sing off-key; and you're a noisy bugger when you wank."

Orli gives Sean an evil glare.  "I am *not* noisy," he growls. "Am I, Vig?"  He
says, looking to me for support.

I bite down on my lip, trying very, very hard not to laugh or even snort.  If I
do, I'm a dead man.  I waggle my head mutely, knowing that if I open my mouth,
I'll just lose it.

"Oh *thanks*," Orli says, pouting.  "Don't make me come over there and slam your
arse into the ground."

Before I can give Orli a comeback, he squeaks in surprise. I'm about to ask him
what's wrong when the door bangs open and Tanya appears.  

"All right, time for you to stop being cuddly," she says without batting an
eyelash.  Of course, I didn't expect her to -- Orli's pretty infamous for lap
crawling.  I think the only person in the Fellowship that he hasn't sat on is
John.

Orlando shoots his best puppy dog eyes in her direction.  "But I just got
comfortable, luv.  Can't I stay here a while longer?"

Tanya sighs.  "No.  I need to get to work or Carolyn will have my arse in a sling.
Don't even try pouting, Orlando, you know that I'm used to it by now."  When Orli
doesn't move, she flips her wrist up and glances at her watch.  "You have two
minutes to get off Sean or else you're going to have frosted pink lips and glitter
eyeliner today."

Orli shoots me a quick "help" look and flicks his eyes quickly to the side.
Following his gaze, I see that Sean looks really flustered.  In fact...shit, I
recognize that expression because I've had it myself; something's gotten Sean hot
and bothered, leaving him with an embarrassing erection.  

Tanya clears her throat again, giving Orli the Glare of Death.  I need to distract
her.  Now. Reaching into my bag, I fish out this morning's offering of truffles.

"Tanya, could you possibly start working on me, first?  I'll hand feed you
chocolate if that's what it takes."

She spots the box and beams at me.  "Now there's a bribe that I can get behind."
She sidles up to me and picks up my wig.  "Could you start with the raspberry
creme one first?"

"Your wish is my command," I say with such deference that she giggles.  While
she's transforming me to Aragorn, I dutifully pop truffles into her mouth, trying
not to get melted chocolate all over my fingers.

Now that she's occupied, I replay our earlier conversation, trying to figure out
what caused Sean to sport some serious wood.  Let's see...they joked about the
landslide incident, then Sean teased Orli... and then Orli threatened to slam me
into the ground... That must be it.  I almost grin to myself; I love it when Orli
pins me down, so I don't blame Sean for getting hard at the thought.  

Using my peripheral vision, I notice that Orli has climbed out of Sean's lap.  He
starts bouncing around the Cuntebago, chattering at his usual five million miles a
minute until Tanya's done with me.  He then launches himself into his chair,
settling down as Tanya pulls out his elf ears from a bag.

While she's applying them, she says in a playful tone, "Well that certainly took
you long enough to get unglued from Sean.  Don't tell me that you're shopping for
another boyfriend?" 

"Nah, those Northerners are too rough on delicate me. I'll stick with my smelly
ranger."

"That's natural musk, Elf Boy," I grumble back.

Orlando turns his nose up and sniffs the air with delicacy. "Oh, is that what you
call it?  I don't know about you, but I think your costume is getting pretty
manky. If Aragorn were real, I'm sure he'd rinse it more often than you have."

Sean adds, "If you ask me, Viggo is taking this authenticity thing way over the
top.  I heard that he crawled through horse shite yesterday."

"Ewww!" Orli says.

I try to avoid looking smug.  I knew that it wouldn't be long before that little
incident spread on the grapevine. While it's true that I did accidentally stick my
arm and chest in some crap, the costuming people came in right afterward and
cleaned the spots as best as they could.  I asked everyone to keep quiet about
getting the stain treated, because a wicked idea was forming in my mind.

Orli's not too swift on some things, and it looks like this happens to be one of
them.  Guess he doesn't remember what happened later in the day.  Oh well, it's
just a matter of waiting...

After a few minutes, I see a flash of insight sparking in Orli's eyes.  Here it
comes...Three, two, one...

Orli turns to me and his eyes narrow.  "Wait...you did this yesterday?  Didn't you
bear hug me after we wrapped?"

"What's the matter, baby?  I brushed it off beforehand," I reply, grinning evilly
at him.

Tanya immediately backpedals away from his chair.  I brace myself for the
inevitable explosion, but all Orli does is give me one of his megawatt smiles.  

"You've got an odd sense of humor, luv," he says, giggling.  "Good one, though."

My jaw almost hangs open in shock.  Did body snatchers kidnap Orli and replace him
with a pod person?  He should be tackling me, cursing at the top of his voice and
telling me that I'm a bloody fucking cunt.

"What?" Orli says with complete innocence.

"Aren't you pissed off?" I stammer.

Orli gets out of his chair and I brace myself for an attack.  It doesn't come,
though.  He just strolls over and gives me a peck on the cheek.  "My temper's
always gotten me into trouble so I thought that I should try a hand at controlling
it."

My brain refuses to accept that Orli is being calm, so I look over in Sean's
direction.  He shakes his head, indicating that he's as clueless as I am. I'm
still suspicious, though, so I keep an eye on Orli while we get made up, expecting
him to do something once I let my guard down. He remains serene throughout the
entire process, and doesn't even dwell on my prank, which makes me even *more*
worried.

This is going to be a long day.

***

I'm talking to Dom about how we want to approach our scene together when he looks
behind me.  "Oi, our poncy elf's back on set," he says.

My face pales.  "Fuck!"  I grab Dom by the shoulder and hustle him around a
corner.  "Quick, we need to hide."

Dom's completely puzzled.  "Did you have a row this morning?"

"No, worse.  Remember what happened yesterday while we were filming those scenes
for Pelennor Fields?"

Dom snorts.  "Remember?  I was the one who asked you how you could've missed that
bloody great horse pat."  A slow grin spreads on his face.  "What did you do to
Orli?  I figured you were up to something when you asked us to stay mum about
getting it cleaned off."  

"Just a little bait and switch.  I let him be his usual affectionate self and then
waited for someone to tell him that I was coated in crap yesterday."

Dom snickers.  "I don't envy you a single bit right now, mate. You know that you
should never get on the bad side of a narked elf."      

No kidding.  The last time I crossed Orli, I wound up with a trailer full of dead
fish and fake shit; not that I let any previous repercussions stop me this time.
Guess this is why Liv said once that we make the perfect couple because we're at
the same maturity level.

I let out a huge sigh.  "That's the problem. He isn't angry at all."

"What?"

"He just laughed it off, and he's actually been extra affectionate whenever he
sees me."

As soon as I say this, Dom blinks.  "Orli didn't happen to hit his head last
night?"

"No."

"And space aliens didn't kidnap him and scramble his brains with an anal probe?"

"No...and I don't think that his long lost twin is taking his place today.  I
don't know why he's acting the way he is."

Dom rubs his chin and sinks deep into thought. "Well, since anal probes and twins
are out... all I can think of is that he's plotting something over the top.
You're dead meat, Vig."

Fuck, I was hoping that he wouldn't say that. "I told him later that I was
perfectly clean when I hugged him, but I don't think he believed me."

"And I don't want to get caught in the blast radius when he gets you," Dom says.
He thinks for a bit and then smiles at me.  "I know, why don't I get the rest of
the Hobbits together and we can drag him off to the clubs tonight?  And I bet that
Billy and me can con him into a game of Tig or something until we wrap."

Well, that sounds good in theory, but I know Orli too well.  "I'm not sure he'll
take the bait. You know how determined he gets."

Dom puffs his chest out.  "And you don't know how stubborn four Hobbits can be.
We'll get him off your back, Vig."

Relief floods through me -- determined Hobbits have never let anything sway them.
"Thanks."

"Now go on and don't bitch me up," Dom says, giving me a shove towards the
monitors.  "Find Billy while I give Orli a chat up."

I think I see Billy discussing something with Peter, so I amble over, keeping an
eye on Orli.  Sure enough, Dom has intercepted him, and whatever he's talking
about has Orlando's full attention.

That's good.  I'm hoping that this will diffuse things, so I can stop skulking
around like some sort of Gollum knock off. When Billy has a free moment, I tell
him Dom's plan, and he agrees to help.  

As the day goes on, I make a mental note to myself to buy a round for the Hobbits
the next time I hit the pubs with them.  Dom's plan goes off without a hitch, and
they keep Orli occupied non-stop.  Everything flows smoothly, and before I know
it, Peter has called a wrap.

I'm saying my goodnights to the crew when I see Orli bounding over towards me.
Judging by the way he's vibrating, I'm guessing the Hobbits are dragging him
somewhere exciting.

"Dom told me about this smashing new club that just opened up. Do you mind going
home by yourself?" he says, bubbling with enthusiasm.

Thank God, he's sounding normal again.  I try not to let Orli see how relieved I
am. "No, that's fine. I was going to go talk to Peter about some more script
changes, and you know how long that takes."

"Yeah.  I'm gonna meet the Hobbits in their trailer after I get de-elfed and then
we're going to head out." He gives me an impish grin.  "I'll hang around a bit in
case you change your mind."

"Not likely," I say, giving him a kiss.

"Your loss."  Orli waves and trots off for the Cuntebago, still full of energy.  I
shake my head as I see him jumping Billy and Dom.  He's irrepressible, and I
wouldn't have him any other way.

My talk with Peter doesn't take nearly as long as I thought it would, but I don't
see anyone around when I return to the trailer. Guess he took off with the Hobbits
already.  Oh well, the water's actually running hot today, so I'm going to treat
myself to a nice long shower.

I've just poured shampoo onto my hair when I hear the bathroom door creaking open.
"Is that you, babe?" 

Billy's voice calls out, "Vig?  I was shouting earlier, trying to figure out who
was in here."

"Sorry, Billy, you know how noisy this shower gets.  Why aren't you at the club
with Orli?"

"We haven't taken off yet.  Orli dropped by our trailer, and he started talking
music with Elijah.  Then he started wrestling with Dom...and right in the middle
of it, he realized that he forgot to put on his hair gel. So then he started
whinging about how his mohawk was going to stick up at weird angles.  And you know
how Orli is once he starts bellyaching, he goes on for ages.  I volunteered to
fetch the bloody tube just to shut him up."

I chuckle.  Orli's very absent minded, and he almost always leaves something
behind when we leave the house.  So far, he's gone back for his keys, his charms,
his script...he even forgot an elf ear that fell off once when he came home early
and took a nap.  I'm sure that he'd probably take off without his cock if it
wasn't attached to him.  

"The gel's inside the little cabinet underneath the sink," I tell Billy before I
start soaping up my face.

I hear some shuffling and Billy yells, "Thanks, Vig!"

All I can do at this point is grunt something unintelligible.  It's hard to be
witty with bubbles dripping down your nose.  

"I'll assume that's a 'you're welcome'," Billy replies. "See ya!"  I hear the door
creak open again as he leaves.

I finish up a few minutes later and I step out onto a bathmat. What the fuck?
Where are the towels?  I could have sworn that some were on the racks when I
jumped in the shower...

I guess I'll just have to drip over the floor while I rustle up some spares.
That's weird, there's nothing in the small cupboard where we usually stash them.
Looks like I'll have to get the carpet wet while I hunt around in the clothes rack
for my bathrobe.  I think it can blot up enough liquid so that I can get into my
jeans and t-shirt without soaking them.

My jaw drops when I emerge into the main area.  Sean's standing there, with a
mischievous smirk plastered on his face and a big fluffy towel in his hands.

"Don't even try to look for your robe, Vig. Billy scarpered off with it.  Oh, and
he nicked the towels, too."

Note to self -- never, ever again, trust a Hobbit.  While I'm plotting all sorts
of interesting ways to torture Billy, Sean hands me a piece of folded paper.

"Read it," he says.

Grumbling, I open the note.  I recognize Orlando's loopy scrawl immediately.
"Surprise, filthy Human!  I was just waiting for you to let your guard down before
I got back at you, yeah?  Anyway, I press-ganged the Hobbits to make off with your
keys, all of the towels, and all of your clothes, including that filthy costume of
yours. You should know by now that the furry-footed have no loyalty if there's a
good prank to be had.  And never underestimate the power of bribing them with
copious amounts of alcohol, especially with Dom. (I swear, he'd sell his own Mum
up the river for a year of free booze.)

"If you want your clothes back, you'll have to run over to the Hobbits' trailer.
Don't worry, I'm not completely cruel; you'll have something to cover your naughty
bits.  Sean has it.  *kiss**kiss* Sweetie Darling -- O."

I almost crumple the paper in my hand.  I think at this point, filleting the
Hobbits and slow roasting them over a fire is sounding really appealing. As for
Orli...God, the cheeky little twit...there must be *something* I could do to
him...

"Oi, Viggo!  Quit scheming and get back with the program!" Sean barks.

I give Sean a baleful glare.  "Fuck off.  You're not the one standing around butt
naked."

"I am supposed to take care of that, you know."

"Let me guess, Orli is going to make me wear low-riding bikini briefs that have an
elephant trunk where my cock is supposed to be."

Sean rolls his eyes.  "How mean do you think he is? He gave you something quite
decent to wear."  

"Oh really?"

"Here are your pants," Sean says, pulling a glittering object out of his pocket.
He tosses it to me, and I see that it's a sequined star with a paperboard backing.
What the? Shit, it's a large pasty, the type strippers use to cover their
crotches.

While my eyes are popping out of their sockets, Sean holds out another note.
"Might want to read this before you stick it on."

It's from Orli again.  "P.S. Since I heard that you actually cleaned up before you
hugged me, I've giving you a break.  If you don't want to run bare-arsed to the
trailer, you can let Sean dry you off.  Once he's done, he'll get your clothes
back from me and then he'll drive you home."

Evil. Fucking. Elf.  He knows that if I let Sean touch me, my dick will get stiff
enough to drive nails through a board. And then I'll have to walk out to the
parking lot with a painful bulge in my jeans.  Since all of us are putting in long
hours, there are still a substantial number of people milling around the set, and
there's no way in hell I'm going to let them see what I look like with a hard-on.

I'm also sure that I'll want to jump Sean once he drops me off at my place. Not a
bad idea; but Sean doesn't do vanilla sex, and I'm not sure I'm ready to bottom
for him.

Ah, fuck it.  Streaking is no big deal.  I look up at Sean.  "Hand me the glue,
I'm taking door number 1."

Sean replies, "You don't want a good rub down?  I'm hurt."

Oh no, he's turned on *that* voice -- the one that makes every syllable leaving
his mouth drip with pure liquid sex.  He stalks towards me, green eyes flashing
with lust.

"I'd love to just run my hands over your body... your chest, roll your bollocks in
my hand and listen to you moan..."

I bite back a whimper as my cock hardens in two seconds flat.  Sean closes the
distance between us, his chest brushing against my own while he continues purring
in that honeyed voice of his. "I'd love to see you tied up again, watching your
muscles stand out while you struggle..."

My knees go weak, and Sean capitalizes on that opportunity to grab me.  I let out
a small cry as he yanks my arms behind my back, pinning my wrists together.

"It'd be even better if you were gagged and blindfolded," he murmurs, his hot
breath fanning over my ear.  "I can just see you now -- cock hard and dripping
while you twist against the ropes, begging like mad for me to finish you off while
I shove my tongue up your arse."

My earlier resolve just crumbles away at his husky words. "Fuck yes," I breathe,
tilting my head back so that he can nip at my throat.  His hard dick is straining
against his slacks, pressing against my own.

I'm arching against Sean, craving more when I hear him whisper, "Vig?" 

"Hmmm?"

"Not now."  His hands drop away and he abruptly backs off.

I blink in shock as the spell is broken.  Half of my brain cells are nonfunctional
from being in a lust-filled fog, and the other half can't believe that Sean just
dropped me like a hot potato.

Sean looks with regret at my throbbing erection and says, "I haven't received
permission to play with you from Orli, and I don't want to nark him off.  You two
have had enough troubles."

He takes a deep breath, adjusts himself, and then heads for the door. "You should
probably have a good wank before you run over to the Hobbits' trailer.  That star
isn't going to cover shite right now."

God fucking damnit.  "Could you at least have the decency to get my keys from
Orli?"

Sean replies, "If I do, I'll be driving you home, and you know full well that I
can't keep my hands off of you.  Once we're out of sight, the first thing I'd do
is pull over by the side of the road, open my trousers, and shove your head down
onto my cock.  As much as I hate doing this, you need to talk it over with Orli
first."

I curse up a storm in every language I know.  "Fine.  Skip the driving, but can
you bring back my clothes?"

In response to my question, Sean's lips quirk upward into a roguish smile, which I
don't find at all reassuring. "I would," he replies, "but I *am* a bit of a
sadist.  Have fun running about starkers."

He waves at me and then steps out, letting the door bang shut behind him.  I don't
react at first -- my mind just won't acknowledge that he just left without a
second thought.  When it finally dawns on me that he's not coming back, I let out
a primal scream of frustration that makes the one I did for the helmet kicking
scene sound like a mouse squeak.

****

Orli's still laughing hard when we finally get home. "Oh man!  I can't *believe*
the expression on your face when Fran and Philippa snapped that picture of your
arse!"

I glare daggers at Orli.  I'm in a pretty shitty mood now.  I had to jack off
before I dashed over, only to find out that my evil elf had another surprise. Orli
had apparently told Fran and Philippa about his little revenge, so they were
hiding behind the Hobbits' trailer with cameras, lying in wait until I had my back
to them.  

"Fuck off."

Orli ruffles my hair.  "Shut it, silly human.  I saw you grinning before you did a
bump and grind at them." When Orli sees that I'm still glowering, he throws his
arms around my neck and gives me a sloppy kiss. "I love that you're such a bloody
exhibitionist."

Okay, he's got me there.  It's true that I've never been shy about my body.  "You
realize that they'll owe you for that?" I reply, feeling some of my sourness fade
away.

"Uh huh.  I expect to see more soy lattes delivered to me in the morning."  He's
bouncing with joy, causing the last of my grouchiness to disappear.  I never could
stay cranky while he's this happy.

His ebullient mood never stops -- he keeps darting around while I prep the
ingredients for dinner, and he keeps shifting around in that signature half-perch
of his while he's eating. Once we clean up, though, it's time for the evening's
talk, and that acts like a dash of cold water on him.  He settles down, waiting
patiently for me to start the dishwasher before I sit down next to him at the
dining room table.

"So," I begin.  "Um, Sean and I almost started something in the Cuntebago."

"Really?  And why didn't you?"

"That's what I asked Sean.  And he said that he had to get permission from you,
first."

Orli slaps his forehead.  "Because he doesn't do vanilla sex, and it's rude to
play with another person's sub without asking.  I'm going to have to buy him a
pint for being so considerate." He giggles and then turns solemn.  "Seriously,
Sean can get pretty intense, so it's best for me to be around when you do a scene
with him."

"Looks like great minds think alike.  Since his final shot is next week...I was
going to ask you if you wouldn't mind the two of us playing with him one last
time."

In response to my proposal, Orli launches himself out of his chair and hugs me.
"Mind?  I think it's brilliant!  I'll chat Sean up and arrange a time when we can
plan out what we're going to do, yeah?"

Okay, now here's the hard part.  I wanted to do something special for Sean, but I
wasn't sure what.  An idea popped into my head while I was fixing dinner, but
thinking about it and mentioning it are two different things.

"Orli?"  I say, kicking myself for the slight waver in my voice.

"Yeah?"

Deep breath, I know I can ask for this.  "Orli...um...I want Sean to pull out all
the stops."

"Excuse me?"

Steadying myself, I reply with more confidence, "I don't want Sean to worry about
whether or not I can take what he can dish out.  No pain -- but I'll do anything
else."

Uncertainty flits across Orli's face.  "Er, are you sure? Sean's into humiliation
big-time. I mean, he won't do golden showers or anything like that...but it might
be too much for you."

"I'm sure.  I'm ready for it now."  I don't think Orli's as confident, because
he's chewing his lip.  "I'll grill him about his repertoire ahead of time, but I'm
positive that it'll be okay."  

The crease between Orli's eyebrows is still there, which concerns me. He's also
twitching, and he looks pretty tense. Fuck, he's probably stressing over the fact
that the last time he invited Sean over, things just blew up later. I look deep
into his eyes, keeping my gaze steady. "Don't worry, I really want this.  Really."

Orli lets out a loud sigh of relief and he visibly relaxes.  "If you're fine with
it..."

"I am.  Come on, get Sean on the horn so that we can give him a memorable send
off.  Judging by his reaction this morning, I'm sure it'll involve you manhandling
me."

*****

It's almost two in the morning when I sneak onto the set, taking advantage of the
fact that one of the side gates is always poorly locked.  I'm wearing a plain blue
shirt and jeans --Sean had asked for a men in prison scenario, so finding
appropriate clothes was pretty easy.  

Finding a suitable place where we could stage the scene was *not* easy. All of us
wracked our brains, trying to figure out where we could set this.  Orli suggested
renting out space in a dungeon, but he didn't know if any of the BDSM clubs around
here had anything resembling a prison cell.

Sean finally suggested that we could use the communal showers on the set.  They're
located way in the back, and security never checks there. I agreed, and we set a
time for my arrival.  Once that was established, Sean kicked me out of the house
so that he could hash out what he wanted Orli to do.

I'm sure it'll be great.  As I promised Orli, I grilled Sean about what he likes
to do to his subs, and he didn't mention anything objectionable.  

My body tingles as I remember Sean giving me a call an hour ago, telling me to put
on my collar and lube up "with that silicone shit that hangs around forever"
before I had to leave.  He also gave me a little more background on the role he
wanted me to play.  It sounded like he's planning on a ravishment scene, which
suits me just fine.

The faint scent of bleach stings my nose as I draw close to my destination.  Yeah,
just as Sean remembered, the cleaning staff scrubbed everything down today, which
is why we had to wait until two.

No sign of them yet.  On the other hand, it's plenty dark, so they could be
hiding.  I pad over to the changing area in my bare feet, feeling the niobium
links brush against my skin as I walk.  The contact makes me shiver, and my cock
hardens, straining against my jeans.

Fuck, this won't do.  Not for the initial set up.  I need to do something about
it. Once I reach the room, I close my eyes and slow my breathing down so that I
can sink into character.

My erection dies down as I concentrate and lose myself --I'm a scam artist and
I've never been in prison until now. I got careless, and I was caught.  And
frankly, I'm scared out of my mind at this moment.  I want out, as fast as
possible.

Thank God I got lucky tonight.  One of the guards wasn't paying attention, and I
was able to slip out during the final counts.  I'm in the showers, looking for a
way out of this hellhole.

"Well, if it isn't the new fish," a voice in a deep Southern drawl says from
behind me. "You're a pretty one, ain't you?"

I almost jump out of my skin, and I bite my lip to keep from trembling. Fuck, this
was what I was dreading -- fighting some huge wall of muscle.  I whirl around, my
heart pounding in my chest, and I blink in disbelief when I see that I'm face to
face with a skinny mohawked kid. He's also wearing prison blues, but the sleeves
have been ripping off, revealing the tattoos decorating the length of his slim
arms.

The coiled tension inside of me relaxes.  He's way too girlish looking to be a
threat.  He's probably someone's bitch, should be easy to scare off.

"I could ask you the same thing," I reply in a dry tone.

The kid glares and says, "Are you trying to insult me, Bob?"

I snort.  Right, this slender little thing is trying to intimidate me.  "My name's
David."

The kid's eyes glint with a feral look.  "No, it's BOB --Bend Over Backwards.
It's what I'm going to do to you."

"Right," I reply.  "Are you on something?  Because you're high if you think you
can kick my ass."

There's a blur of movement, and I'm suddenly slammed to the ground, which knocks
the breath out of my lungs. I try to rise to my feet, but he grabs me and tackles
me to the ground again before I can recover. My head is still reeling when the kid
jumps on top of me, twining around his arms and legs around my own to keep me from
moving.

"No one talks to me like that!" he hisses, shifting his grip so that he can free
up a hand.  The kid glares at me with a look that paralyzes me cold; his eyes are
black soulless voids with no hint of warmth.  He's seen death, and a lot of it. I
turn pale.  I picked a fight with exactly the wrong person.  If I'm lucky, he'll
just kill me. If I'm not...I pray that he'll be fast.

He reaches down and pulls something out of his pocket. "Do you know who I am, you
cunt?"  I hear a snick and a switchblade is now hovering near my throat.  A
whimper escapes my mouth when I see the deadly weapon.  

The kid laughs at my distress.  "Yeah, that's right -- me and my partner own this
prison, and we don't take kindly to being fucked with."

I feel the blade press against my skin.  Wincing, I brace myself for the slice
across my jugular, but nothing happens.  I'm confused as I open my eyes to look at
my attacker.

His lips twitch into a cruel smile.  "If I didn't have plans for you, I'd cut you
good."

Before I can figure out what he means by "plans", the kid turns his head and says,
"Yo, Sean!  Get your butt over here!" 

Another man comes into view, and I swallow hard when I see the large muscles
rippling under his shirt.  Shit, I'm outnumbered and completely screwed.  I need
to go along until I can find an opening.

"Looks like you've got a tasty one there, Orli," Sean says, his eyes raking over
me like I was a piece of meat.

"Yeah, I saw him coming off the bus.  Told one of the screws to let him slip out
tonight." Orli climbs off of me, still keeping the blade pressed against my
throat.

I'm still stunned at his words -- that means that they planned this...oh God...

Orli isn't going to let me think about it, though.  He grabs my hair and yanks my
head back.  

"Stand," he barks.  "And no funny stuff or I'll cut your balls off and feed them
to you."

I don't want to show these bastards how frightened I am, but my body won't listen
to me.  I'm shaking uncontrollably as I scramble to my feet.  As soon as I'm
upright, Sean grabs my wrists and jerks them behind my back, causing me to yelp in
pain.  He then frogmarches me into the showers, with Orli following close behind.  

Once we're on the tiled floor, Orli squeezes Sean on the shoulder.  "So, how do
you like our new bitch?"

My blood turns to ice at Orli's words.  No, Gods, no... My thoughts churn with
thousands of unpleasant scenarios, but I'm too scared to move or speak while that
shiv can still cut me open.

Sean purrs, "You've always known how to pick them."

"Want me to unwrap him?" Orli asks.

"Go for it," Sean replies. 

The blade pulls away from my neck and I realize that I have to get away from them
now.  There won't be a second chance. I try to stomp on Sean's foot, intending to
follow up with an elbow to the stomach, but he dodges out of the way and grabs me,
using his strength to throw me face first against the wall.

"Asshole!" Sean hisses, pressing his body against mine to pin me against the cold
tiles.  A hand clamps around my neck, locking my head in place.

"Do that again and I'll break your arms and legs and leave you in Orli's tender
loving care." His voice lowers to a growl.  "The last person he worked on took two
weeks to die, and the guy was begging to be killed after the first hour.  Don't
let that angel face fool you --he's the sickest bastard that ever walked this
planet."

Oh God, that's not an idle threat.  The fight drains out of me, and I stop
struggling.  

"So, what now?" Sean asks.  

"Just hold him there," Orli replies.

I hear the thud of Orli's shoes as he closes the distance between us, popping open
and folding his switchblade closed in time with his steps.  I try to turn my head
to look over my shoulder, but Sean's grip is too strong, and he keeps a firm hold
on me.  All I can do is use my ears, and judging by the closeness of his last
step, I'm guessing that he's standing behind me, just out of range of my
peripheral vision.  My suspicions are confirmed when Orli speaks again.

"No more fight from this one?  Aw fuck, I was hoping he'd have more fire in his
belly."  He sounds disappointed, like a child who's had his toy taken away from
him.  "Guess I'll have to go with plan B.  If you know what's good for you, Bob,
don't move an inch."

The knife disappears from view, and I feel a tug under my shirt collar.  Moments
later, something metallic comes in contact with my skin. Oh shit, he's going to
kill me after all...I hold my breath as I feel the knife moving downward, but
there's no pain, just a ripping noise.  My panic eases slightly when I realize
that he's cutting open the seams on my clothes instead of me; but that slight is
relative...butterflies are still fluttering in my stomach.

My shirt is the first to go, and my bare arms pimple with goosebumps.  My jeans
are next, and it takes all of my self-control to not flinch when that knife passes
within scant inches of my vitals. After what seems like an eternity, my pants fall
away, exposing my entire body to the cold night air.  I can feel Sean's and Orli's
eyes looking hungrily at me, and I shiver, wishing that I could curl into a ball
to shield myself from their predatory gazes.

"Ease up a bit, Sean.  I need access," Orli says while he places the blade at my
neck again.  

Sean says in a harsh voice, "After I let you go, you're going to stick your ass
out and spread your legs for Orli, you hear?  Remember what we'll do to you if you
act up."

I nod, quivering with fear as Sean releases me. My face is burning as I scoot my
legs back, bending over so that Orli can get an eyeful. 

Orli makes a smacking noise with his lips before he reaches down and squeezes each
side of my ass in turn.  I bite my tongue, fighting down the urge to slap his
hands aside.

"Ooo, aren't those the roundest cheeks," Orli coos.  "I can't wait to see Sean's
cock sawing between them." 

His hand slides around and cups my crotch, and I can't stop myself from flinching.
Orli ignores me and runs his fingers over my hairless pubic area. "You're shaved?
Shit, man, you might as well hang a sign around your neck that says 'Bitch!'"

"It was a joke that my girlfriend pulled on me," I protest.

"Uh huh, right," Orli says, rolling my balls in his palm before his fingers tug on
my dick. Oh crap...my cock's getting hard from his fondling.  That can't be, I'm
not interested in men!  

"Stop," I say weakly, ignoring the throbbing in my groin.

Orli snorts.  "That's not what your dick is telling me."  He leans in closer,
brushing his lips against my ear.  I shiver as his deep voice lowers another
octave.  "By the time we're done with you, you'll be gagging for cock."

"No..."

Sean cuts me off.  "Quit whining and get on your hands and knees."

When I hesitate, Orli growls, "Follow his orders or I'll cut you bald."

My legs are shaking as I drop down.  A whimper of panic escapes my throat when I
hear the sound of a zipper opening.  "I'm going to enjoy this a hell of a lot",
Sean says before he slams inside of me with one heart-stopping thrust.

I screech as pleasure and pain explode through my body. Before I can recover, Sean
drapes himself over my back and pistons his hips, rutting purely for his own
release.  My head is spinning out of control; Orli has taken me hard before, but
he doesn't have the weight or strength that Sean possesses. Sean isn't giving me
any quarter -- I know I'm going to have bruises on my hips tomorrow, and I won't
be able to sit down at all at the rate he's hammering into me.   He's fucking me
so hard that I'm gasping with every stroke.

Crap, I can't let myself enjoy this too much. Remembering my role, I try to
scramble forward, trying to get away.  Sean thwarts my escape by grabbing my hair
and jerking my head back.  "Uh uh, you're staying here."  

He punctuates his sentence with a jab that's so hard that I almost lose my
balance.  Electricity crackles through my nerves, but I have to remember to stay
in character.  

Forcing myself to concentrate, I struggle in Sean's grasp.  "No!  Stop it!"

Sean laughs harshly.  "That's it; I like them with a little fight."  He pounds
into me, hissing, "Take it... take all of my hard cock, you cherry bitch."

I make a small cry, feeling my insides turn to jelly as Sean claims me.  His balls
slap against my skin while he pistons into me, fucking me without mercy.  Unlike
my earlier role-playing with Orli, there's no sweet ravishment here.  Sean is
determined to assert his mastery through pure domination and fear.  I'm a
convenient hole for this sex-starved convict, his plaything to be discarded when
he's done using me.

His next thrust hits my prostate, and I can't contain the moan that escapes my
throat.

"You want this," he says with a sneer.

Panic claws through my brain.  I've resigned myself to letting Sean use me, but I
can't surrender that part of me to him.  I need to retain that last shred of my
dignity.  Steeling myself, I reply, "No."

"Bullshit.  You love cock." 

"No..." 

Sean jabs me hard.  "Say it!"

"Fuck you!" I shout back with more bravado than I actually feel.

Orlando snarls, "Say it, you little cunt, or I'll bleed you dry."

I squeeze my eyes closed, feeling my heart beat out of control. I can't
weaken...but then Orlando presses his knife against my jugular. 

"Last chance," he says.

A sob escapes my lips.  I don't want to give in, but I have no choice at this
point.

"I love cock," I whisper.

Sean jabs me again.  "Louder."

"I love cock!"  A tear rolls down my cheek -- they've broken me.

"Awww, did we hurt your feelings?" Orli replies with a cruel laugh. "Get over it.
I knew you were aching to spread yourself open for us, you little twat."  

Sean chuckles, "With those lips and ass, he was born to be a whore." His fast pace
has resumed, and I'm crying out as he hits my sweet spot over and over again.

"Mmmm...don't know what you're going to do to get off.  His hole will be too loose
after I'm done with him," Sean purrs at Orli.

"Like I'd want to fuck it after you put your dick inside," Orli snickers.  "Don't
worry, man, I'll figure what else we can do with our toy."

The realization that I'm not even a person to them, that I'm less than a dog in
their minds, causes me to start crying. I don't even try to hide my tears; it's
not like they'd give a shit.

The rhythm of Sean's thrusts becomes jerky and irregular. He's close to orgasm,
but instead of slamming into me one final time, he pulls out abruptly.

"You don't deserve my come," he says in a harsh voice. I hear the sounds of flesh
against flesh, followed by a loud grunt.  A choked cry escapes my throat when
Sean's release splashes all over my ass, making me feel completely worthless.

Orli is eyeing me, his cock straining against his jeans.  I tremble in fear,
wondering what he's going to do to me now that Sean's finished.

I receive my answer when Sean shoves two fingers into my ass.  My hole is
sensitive from his fucking and I wail, almost launching when he hits my prostate.  

"Let's give Orli a little show, hmmm?" he says.  "Show him how much you enjoyed
it."  His fingers rub against the spot, and my cock twitches, drooling out a long
string of fluid.  

"Oh yeah," Orli replies, stepping forward until his crotch is level with my eyes.
He unzips his jeans and pulls his erection out, tugging on it with sure strokes,
watching me.

"Stop it!" I protest.  I don't want to come, not like this; but Sean's stroking is
relentless.  My body goes into auto-pilot, and before I know it, everything is
spinning out of control. I climax with a pained sob, my release hitting the tile
floor.

"Yesss," Orli moans, throwing his head back as he flicks a thumb over the head of
his erection.  His prick jumps, and I gasp as he spurts over my cheeks and chin.

I don't have a chance to recover from the shock when Sean's fingers twist
painfully into my hair. He forces my head down, holding it over the lines of come
streaking the tiles.

"You made a mess.  Clean it up."  

Weeping, all fight drained out of me, I dutifully lick everything up, not even
registering the bitter tang stinging my tongue.  My tears roll down my cheeks,
mingling with Orli's spunk.

When I'm done, Sean tosses me aside like so much trash. He zips himself up and
says, "I could use something to eat, I'm feeling a little hungry."

Orli grins.  "Kitchen's always open to us, man. Come on."  He tucks himself in,
and they just stroll away as if nothing happened; solidifying in my mind that what
they did to me mattered about as much as scraping something off their shoes.

I curl up into a fetal position, feeling debased and used.  My emotions overwhelm
me, and I let out several ragged sobs, crying without remorse.

Orli's voice cuts through my fog of pain.  "Vig?  Vig?  Oh fuck!" He rushes to my
side, his hands trembling as he unlocks my collar.  I'm still crying as he pulls
me close. "Damnit, I knew Sean would push you too far.  I shouldn't have let him
run this one.  I'm such a fucking cunt. Fuck fuck FUCK!"

Tears are pouring down his cheeks, and his lip is quivering.  For the first time,
I realize how hard this scene must have been for him to sit through.

"I just got too deeply into character. It's okay, really," I murmur, hugging him.

"No, it's not," he sniffles.  "I wanted to call safeword when Sean piled on the
humiliation, but something in your eyes told me to shut up and go along.  And now
you're fucking crying." He presses his face to my chest and sobs.

I can't hold myself back, and I weep with Orli, rocking him as the tears flow down
my face. I'm making hiccupping noises as I let it all out, crying until I'm
drained.

The two of us just lie there, clinging to each other.  I'm feeling raw and
vulnerable, so I hold Orli as if he was the most precious thing on the planet.  As
his body warms my own, it hits me that in the back of my mind, I've always been
insecure about our age difference. Orli could have his pick of lovers, and yet he
settled on me.  

And somehow I've never shaken the fear that he'll abandon me someday for someone
younger, more athletic, more into his own interests. He and Sean have shown me a
permutation of my worst possible fear tonight --that Orli is just with me for the
sex and that he'll toss me aside when he gets tired of me. They tore it out of my
soul to be displayed in all its ugly glory.  

Still...after all that, Orli's first thought when the scene ended was for my well-
being.  He showed no disgust at my weakness, and I can't detect any indication
that he was disappointed with my behavior.  He and Sean put me through hell, and
he still wants me.  I can't put a name to the feeling that surges through me at
this point, knowing once and for all, how unshakeable our relationship is.

Cupping his face, I look into his beautiful dark eyes. "I love you.  So very, very
much.  And thank you for this; both you and Sean."

Orli sniffles.  "Really?  You're not just saying that?"

"I mean every word."

Orli presses his lips to mine, and I gasp at the intensity of his kiss.  It's
never been this needy before.  Our breaths mingle together, and I can taste the
faint salt of his tears on his lips.  We stay together as long as we can, pouring
our love and support into each other, trying to make this moment last.

When we finally part, Orli murmurs, "Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?  I stashed a
robe for you in the changing room."

Damn, forgot that my clothes are in shreds.  That, and something else is
missing... "Hey, where's Sean?"

"He thought we needed some time alone.  He'll be around in the morning to check in
with us, seeing as how we don't have to be in until later."  Orli disappears
momentarily and comes back with a damp towel. I sit still, watching the tip of his
tongue poke through his lips as he wipes me down.

Once he's done, he leads me to the area beside the showers.  I pull on my
bathrobe, feeling myself return to reality. "That sounds good.  Take me home, Elf
Boy."

*** We were so exhausted when we got back that we pretty much fell asleep as soon
as our heads hit the pillows.  I set the alarm for about 10am, which should give
us plenty of time to shower, have brunch with Sean, and show up for our late
afternoon call.

When the buzzer goes off, I notice that Orli's already awake, and he's frowning.
He's also nibbling his lip, a sign that he's been worrying.

"Hey, did you sleep okay?" I ask.  "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he mumbles, looking down. "I'm just being silly."

"Orli..." I gently tilt his face up.  "I still want to hear it.  If it bugs you
this much, it's not silly."

He chews his lip again and says, "Well, it's just... somewhere in the back of my
head, there's this little devil squatting around, whispering to me that I'm going
to push you the wrong way one of these days, and you're going to get offended and
leave me.  And after yesterday, he was convinced that you were going to tell me to
sod off when I woke up.  I could just hear you saying, 'So sorry, Orli, but this
isn't what I signed up for when I said I wanted to try kink.  Bye.'"

"Oh baby..." I caress Orli's cheek and kiss him gently, trying to reassure him
that everything's fine.

"I'm sorry, Vig.  I know we've been talking, but since what broke us up was me
pushing you too far, that just kind of sticks with me, you know?  I really don't
want to fuck things up again."

Pressing my lips to the crease in his forehead, I murmur, "I know, and I love that
you're so concerned, so careful with me.  But I really am doing fine."

Orli looks at me, and his dark eyes are so vulnerable and open that my heart
almost breaks.  He cups my face and presses his lips to mine in a hungry, almost
desperate kiss.

My tongue slides against his, dancing and teasing; my kisses remain slow and
tender, seeking to calm his frayed nerves.  The tension radiating from Orli is
palpable, and I can see that he needs reassurance that everything's okay.

When we part, I nibble and suck my way down the side of his neck, listening to him
mewl as I run my tongue over the sensitive flesh.  I pause at the hollow of his
throat, flicking my tongue against what I know is one of his erogenous zones.  My
hands are gliding over his smooth skin, touching him everywhere.

"Vig," Orli moans, arching against me.  I run my fingers through his mohawk,
whispering nonsense words.  Sliding down, I trace wet circles around one of his
nipples, teasing it into a hard point.

Orli thrashes in my arms.  "Want you inside me," he urges, grabbing at my hips.

I ignore his plea, determined to worship every bit of him.  Kissing my way over, I
lavish attention on the other nipple, nursing it until he melts in my arms with a
breathy sigh.

I work my way down his body, tracing my tongue over his sun tattoo. He's stopped
trying to make demands, and his eyelashes flutter as he enjoys the attention I'm
giving him.

When I finally slide down between his legs and push his knees up to his chest, he
moans, "Oh yeah..."

Smiling, I part the cheeks of his ass, feeling moisture welling out of my cock at
the sight of his pink hole.  I swipe my tongue around, lapping at the pucker with
enthusiasm.  Orlando writhes underneath me, mewling and babbling as I reduce him
to a delicious wreck.

"Vig!  Oh God!" Orli cries out, his hands balling up the sheets when I stab my
ton