Cacophony

by Vivi and Nienor

"Orlando?" He could hardly see who it was; the light from the hallway at Orli's back cast his face in shadow.

"Orli?" Viggo repeated, scrubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"...."

"Orli, it's three in the morning, wh--how did you get a key to the elevator?"

"I nicked Lijah's." His voice was low.

"Is something wrong--" Viggo started, then he smelled it. Some perfume, as cloying as overripe fruit. Beneath it, beer and sour sweat, and he understood. Silently, he stepped back inside, holding the door open and when Orli walked in, he closed it and turned the bolt.

Orlando was standing in the middle of the dark room. Viggo still couldn't see his eyes.

"Who was it?" he asked, his voice deceptively calm.

Orli shrugged. "I don't know. Met her at the pub."

Viggo stepped closer until he could see Orlando's eyes, a wet gleam in the darkness. He didn't touch him. "Go take a shower. You stink like the slut you are."

He went without a word, not a hint of challenge in him. Viggo stood in the middle of the room, listening to the running water. After a moment, he moved to one of the side tables in the sitting area where a manila envelope lay. Moonlight was seeping in through a crack in the curtains and it was just enough light for Viggo to look at the photographs again.

He'd developed them yesterday morning; converting the bathroom into a temporary darkroom had been a pain in the ass but well worth the effort. They were good photos. Lijah looked exquisite in black and white, his skin porcelain fine, but his eyes were just as colorless and so were his lips. Color film, next time, he decided. Next time would be a collage of colors, something to clash with the blue in Lij's eyes.

The sound of the shower cut off. Viggo tucked the photos back into the envelope and waited for Orlando to emerge in a fog of steam and soap. He came out in only a towel, still damp and warm, and only seeing him relaxed from the shower made Viggo realize how tense he'd been before, shifting uneasily like someone hunted.

Deliberately, he reached out to Orli, catching his chin in a hard grip and turning his face from side to side. Not a hint of evidence showed, a darkened bruise or smudge of lipstick. Orli stood compliantly and allowed Viggo to touch him, not uttering a sound of protest until Viggo dropped his hand.

"Shut up," Viggo said automatically and Orli did, for once. "What did she do?"

"Took me back behind to her car. Sucked me off in the backseat."

Viggo nodded, thoughtfully. "What did you do?"

"Offered her fifty quid. She called me a fucking bastard and pushed me out of the car." He turned slightly, offering his back and Viggo saw a light scrape almost covered by the towel.

Viggo looked at the scrape a long moment before he turned away. "Get in bed and go to sleep."

"But--" Orli protested automatically, and he yelped in surprise at Viggo's sudden slap, light as it was; it barely stung his cheek.

"Shut your fucking mouth," he advised. "We're on call at seven tomorrow. Get in the fucking bed and go to sleep."

Orlando dropped the towel and went, crawling between the sheets and laying on his back. Viggo followed, slipping in the other side. He didn't touch Orli at all, only twisted a pillow beneath his head and closed his eyes.

"You'll be punished," Viggo said suddenly, his voice dark with promise. "But not when you want it and not because you want it." He fell silent again and Orlando closed his eyes, sighing softly.

"And Orlando? If you fuck around again, don't come back."

Orli nodded in the dark, and then murmured an agreement, just in case. He listened to Viggo's breathing slow, the only sound in his ears when he finally drifted to sleep.

~~*~~

Orli woke, alone in bed-- something he'd done infrequently enough to be keenly aware of the solitude of an empty mattress, with no warmth radiating into his skin, and no other body weighing him toward the center.

He sighed, rolling over onto Viggo's pillow-- fucking pathetic, his head hurting suddenly from the motion and the stab of light through the half-drawn shade.

God. He was lucky Viggo hadn't just shoved him back into the elevator. How goddamn drunk had he been?

His mouth tasted like mud. Orli groaned, shifting, hiding his head under the pillow.

"So. You're awake."

Low tones, tight. Unforgiving.

God. What the fuck was he thinking, fucking some girl and coming back to Viggo reeking? Did he think anything *good* was going to come of it? Orlando whimpered.

"You want to be punished." Viggo spoke, the same cold and measured tones.

"All right. Let's start." A swish as the shades slid open, and a savage jerk tore away Orli's pillow.

Orli burrowed into his arms, but Viggo ripped the covers away-- fuck, the room was cold, did he have the air-conditioning set on "forty below?"

"Get up!" Viggo's sharp bark in his ear nearly made his head explode.

"OW, FUCK IT!"

"If you thought I'd do something that you enjoy to punish you, you were sorely mistaken."

"Now get up and brush your teeth. You're going to be late for call."

Orlando whimpered again, crawling toward the edge of the bed. "I don't have any clean clothes."

"You're not wearing mine. But you will wear what you find in there. Everything." Viggo followed him into the bathroom, implacable, eyes hard. Orli squinted and stumbled, hanging onto his throbbing head, not entirely sure it wouldn't roll off.

Orli picked up a toothbrush-- neatly boxed-- and struggled till he managed to rip into it. "I gotta piss." God, was that him? He sounded as sulky as Elijah.

"I'm not stopping you."

"I can't piss with you staring."

"Then don't piss."

"I'm not taking off that fucking costume later just to take a leak."

"Then take a piss now."

"Fuck you."

"Don't push me, Orlando."

Orlando stalked over to the bowl and pointed his cock straight at the center.

"I can't piss."

"Turn on the fucking faucet."

He did, and returned, and after a minute he could piss, and he did, his ears burning as Viggo stared-- not appreciatively, not mockingly, just flatly. Hard and uninterested, like a jailer.

"What if I gotta take a dump?"

Viggo just stared coldly, and Orlando slouched back to the sink and rinsed his hands, then picked up the toothbrush and squirted a glob onto it. He brushed his teeth thoroughly, grimacing at the taste-- what the fuck was this shit? Tom's of Maine? More like baking powder and salt.

He rinsed, spitting noisily; his stomach wasn't too happy with him and he wondered what Viggo would say if he puked up a lung. When he was done, he scrubbed a hand over his face, but of course Viggo didn't have a razor handy, so it looked like Makeup was going to have to handle that.

His clothes were lying in an untidy heap on the floor and reached for his shorts, grimacing as he remembered how nasty they were, but something plopped down before he could pick them up. "Put that on."

"What the fuck is it?" Orlando picked it up, trying to figure out where the hell it went.

"It goes on your dick. Now. The wide circle goes next to your nuts."

Orlando stared at it skeptically. "That won't fit over--"

"Put it on, or walk the fuck out and never come back."

"But it's cold!" He could swear Viggo'd been keeping the goddamn thing in his freezer.

"That'll help you get it on."

Orli fumbled with his penis and the cock ring-- or rings; there were over half a dozen of the damned things. "You bought this thing for Elijah," He whimpered, agonized, as he jammed his cockhead through the smallest ring and it pinched him tight.

"You aren't that much bigger than he is." Like a striking snake, Viggo lashed out, shoving him up against the shower door. It rattled ominously, but held. Viggo's hand curled around his cock. "Now you get what you want, slut."

Viggo's hand was hot where it touched him between the rings, rubbing just slightly and Orli felt himself getting predictably hard, his dick happily following Viggo's lead. The rings had been uncomfortable before and were slowly moving towards excruciating, Viggo stroking him ever so lightly, and fuck, what had he been thinking when he came here?

He'd seen Lijah's arse after a session with Viggo, Lij looking at himself in the mirror and stroking the welts tenderly but that was another fucking thing entirely. Viggo's thumb was stroking over the tip of his cock, coaxing out a drop of fluid and smoothing it downward and Orli whimpered aloud.

This was going to fucking well kill him.

"This is what you wanted, wasn't it?" Viggo asked, contemptuously. "You wanted me to punish you."

Orli shook his head desperately, sucking in air as he clawed at the clammy glass behind him. Viggo's hand tightened, a vicious counterpoint of pressure to the unyielding rings that were biting into him and Orli didn't dare look down. Just the sight of those rings digging into his precious parts might be more than he could stand.

"What was it you said she did, slut?" Mockingly, and Orli squeezed his eyes tighter. "Sucked you off, didn't she?"

He knew it was coming, he even tried to brace himself for it, but the first touch of Viggo's tongue turned his knees to liquid. Orli almost collapsed right then, would have if Viggo hadn't caught him, pushing him viciously back upright, slamming him back against the shower door.

"I asked you a question," Viggo said, sharply. "Did she suck you off?" His tongue slid over the tip of Orli's dick, trying and failing to dig underneath that first ring.

"Yes!" he wailed, and Viggo's mouth engulfed him, teeth clicking against metal, and Orli nearly screamed, hot, fucking hot, and Viggo on his knees, sucking him brutally, his nails digging tiny gouges into Orli's hips as he forced him to thrust.

He pulled off before Orli could move on his own, tonguing the slit. Orli's hands moved reflexively to his head, trying to push him down and Viggo made a sound almost like a growl, grabbing both of Orli's wrists in an iron-grip. He held them against the shower door, almost overwhelming possession before sucking him down again, biting the tip hard enough that Orli squealed.

"Fuck! Fuck, fuck, Viggo, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," he babbled, Viggo's mouth and the rings making him ache from his balls to the back of his throat.

Viggo pulled back suddenly, completely, and Orli crumpled to the ground, a low whine hissing at the back of his throat with every breath. His hand flew automatically to his cock; a desperate attempt to relieve the pressure and it was caught and slammed against the floor, pinned beneath Viggo's knee.

"No, you're not," Viggo whispered, holding his face against the cold tile with a hand on the back of his neck. "But you will be." He stood up and poured a small cup of mouthwash, rinsing and spitting while Orli trembled on the floor. "Get up. We're going to be late."

"I can't..." he moaned, and found himself suddenly upright, his head spinning as Viggo yanked him up on his arse.

"Yes, you can," Viggo hissed, "And you will." He kicked Orli's clothes at him and moved to stand by the door, staring at him in stony silence.

Trembling, Orli reached for his shorts, managing to get to his knees. The rings were digging in and a wary glance downward made him wince at the purplish color of his dick. One foot at a time he staggered to his feet, Viggo's eyes goading him on, and he managed to get his shorts around his ankles. He pulled them up gingerly, biting his lip as he lifted the band over his dick, settling them in place. The fabric cupping his groin loosely was a new kind of agony, throbbing low in his belly almost like nausea. Orli leaned weakly against the shower door, breathing deeply through his nose.

"Viggo, I can't do this." Orli hated the pleading in his voice, not that it did any good. Viggo just raised his eyebrows and stared at him coldly. Either do it or get out was what that said, and Orlando wilted under it, reaching for his jeans.

This was going to be a long fucking day.

~~*~~

It had taken a few hours, but finally Orlando had figured out just how to sit; as still as possible with his legs spread just enough to make room for his precious parts between them. That made the whole thing bearable, so long as he didn't move. Or talk. Or breathe.

Unfortunately, acting generally required all three.

Grim determination was all he had to hold onto now, that and a vow to never make Pete have to ask him to stop fidgeting again. There were a few things required to be an Elf, and one of them was when he wasn't speaking during the Council scene he should be still, looking calm and elegant. Not too difficult, all things considered. Once he'd calmed down some the cockring had loosened up until it was pretty bearable, if not exactly comfortable. It should have been easy to make it through the day if that was his only trouble.

The trouble was he hadn't been able to stay calm, due to the workings of the two cocksucking bastards he was currently fucking. He didn't know what Viggo had told Lijah, but if he saw Lij lick his lips one more time and bat his pretty little eyes, Orli was going to sew his fucking mouth shut. Once, Lij had managed to slip a hand under his tunic and pat him on the arse without anyone noticing, and the rush of blood straight to his dick from that little maneuver had stolen his ability to walk for a good half a minute.

Viggo, on the other hand, was just--Viggo. He didn't act any differently than normal, but fuck, just meeting his eyes made Orli hard on a good day. Since the scene required him to look at Viggo from time to time, it meant he was sitting here thanking the costume crew for designing his to go over his lap. Even that wouldn't have been so bad, if he just had to sit and look Elfish. Eventually though he had to stand and actually talk, and then a whole new set of troubles kept cropping up.

He was going to kill Viggo, fucking kill him if he messed up his lines again, pronouncing the Elvish just a fraction wrong and forcing him to redo the scene. Orlando had bounced to his feet a half dozen times already, defending Aragorn and trying not to fall over at the same time, and each time it was a closer thing.

"All right, let's take an hour for an early lunch, everyone," Pete called, sounding distinctly impatient and Orlando winced. Everyone around him muttered in agreement, shooting their own not so happy looks in both Orli and Viggo's directions.

"Orli, I'm supposed to be the one wriggling about the Ring, not you," Lijah mocked sweetly as he walked past and he cuffed Orli in the back of the head with one hand.

"Watch the wig!" Orli hissed, jerking away and then he had to bite back a yelp that no one but Viggo would understand.

Almost everyone had filtered off the set by the time Orlando had worked up the nerve to stand again. Sean Bean gave him a very strange look but if he thought something odd about the way he was acting, he didn't say so. Good thing for old fashioned British discretion, Orli thought sourly, and he walked slowly to the doorway, determined to make this work. If Lij could manage to look sweet and innocent with a plug the size of a baby's arm up his arse, then he could manage this.

He'd nearly made it out, and his mind was on hiding in his trailer, when Ian materialized out of nowhere and caught his arm.

"Orlando." He looked grave, very stern and wizardly under the brim of his hat, and it seemed strange to hear his real name from Gandalf's lips.

He gave Ian a weak, half-assed smile and tried to look inquisitive from behind gritted teeth.

"I noticed your discomfort." Ian frowned, gray brows beetling. "Perhaps you should... cut back a bit, if your evening activities leave you unable to sit still."

Oh, he might be all Gandalf the Grey, but there was a wicked light twinkling in his eyes, and Orlando felt himself blush till it probably showed through his Legolas makeup. "I'm fine, really." Orlando knew he sounded completely lame, but there was no way in hell he was giving Ian the satisfaction of an explanation. "Just a touch of cramp."

The wide-eyed doubting wizard look greeted his claim, and Ian let his arm free. "Really." Ian pursed his lips. "Then I'm sure you won't be doing your best impression of an elf on a hot griddle when you return."

Orli smiled weakly. "You can count on me."

"Excellent." Ian favored him with a final, knowing look. "Because your cramp has had Viggo and Elijah snickering all day, and if it doesn't vanish very soon, I'm certain Peter will be sending you to someone who can do something to cure it."

Orli winced and fled, abandoning all pretense at dignity. It was a good thing Viggo and Lij were good in the sheets, he thought sourly. Nothing like a little public humiliation to make one grateful for small favors.

The peace and solitude of his trailer loomed ahead, and Orlando scurried towards it with all the poise of a one-legged Dwarf. He had a little less than an hour to gain some sort of composure before most of the cast and crew started plotting his death. He was more than a little tempted just to take the fucking thing off and have a wank, but if Viggo found out...Orli shuddered. It didn't bear thinking about.

No one was around when he slipped into his trailer and he turned the lock underneath the handle to keep it that way. Orli heaved a sigh of relief. Maybe a short nap would help get things under control.

"About time you got here. What the hell did Viggo do to you?" Lij should have looked ridiculous with the curly mullet and ridiculous hairy feet, but he looked cute and bright-eyed and the Frodo makeup made him look oddly vulnerable-- very appealing. "And what did you do to piss him off?"

Lij advanced with the confident grace of someone who knew he could bestow torment, but that his victim wouldn't dare to return the favor. "You've been acting like you have fire ants in your leggings all morning. Did he paddle you?"

"No!" Orli colored again. "I just need a few minutes to relax, that's all."

Elijah looked sly. "Did he make you wear a plug?"

"NO!" Orlando bit his lip and looked away from Elijah's face, cursing himself.

"What did he make you wear?" Lij seized on his discomfort and worried it like a puppy with a rawhide bone.

"Nothing!" Shit, Orli knew he was a lousy liar; his face always gave him away. He turned hastily from Elijah and stalked over to the fridge to get himself a beer. Lij followed.

"You're walking funny," he crowed. "What IS it?"

"Why don't you go the hell back to your CUNTebago?" Orli snarled.

In answer, Lij groped his ass, and Orli nearly squealed as his cock surged inside the wicked array that clenched it tight. "It's not a plug," Lij mused, face intent. "Hold still, Orli!"

"NO!" Orli danced away, nearly spilling his beer. "Leave me the fuck alone, or I'll smack you right in the gob, I swear to God."

"What're you hiding under that skirt?" Elijah crowed, advancing triumphantly, and Orli fled for the bathroom with no attempt at grace, slamming the door in Lij's face and leaning his back against it. Lij's fist thudded on the hollow wood. "Get back out here, c'mon!"

Silence ensued suddenly, and stretched; Orlando started to relax. Maybe Elijah had gone home. And maybe pigs would fly. A strange skreeking noise made him frown, and he realized it sounded a great deal like someone with a screwdriver attacking a set of hinges.

"ELIJAH, GODDAMMIT. LEAVE THAT ALONE."

"Not till you tell me what Viggo did!"

Orlando looked wistfully at the narrow window over the toilet. He could probably wriggle out of it, at the expense of his costume-- and then wouldn't Peter be fucking pissed. Plus, if he tried it, the goddamned contraption would probably pinch his cock clean off.

"HE PUT ME IN A COCK RING." Orli growled. "NOW GO AWAY."

"A cock ring? No way. You're acting like he dipped you in sugar and staked you out on an anthill. A cockring wouldn't do that." The door rattled ominously.

"I mean it, Lij. Get the fuck out, you little wanker."

"Like hell."

The door wobbled on its remaining hinge, and Orli realized that it opened outward. Fucking piece of shit trailer. He bared his teeth in frustration.

"Orli?"

"What." He bit the word out curtly, furious.

"Will you do something for me?" Innocent voice.

"What?"

"Think about Viggo's tongue sliding up the shaft of your dick. Think of his mouth closing around the tip, and sinking down..."

Orli whimpered and then cursed, and Elijah's laughter mocked him.

Elijah pulled the useless door out of the doorframe even as Orli sagged forward, the flare of pain as the blood rushed to his cock making his vision go white and fuzzy around the edges.

"Wow." Elijah sounded properly impressed. "Let's have a look." Orlando was powerless to resist, and Lijah coaxed his leggings down, looking at the cock ring with pure devilish mischief. "Damn, Orli! Seven rings, even. I thought you were an Elf not a dwarf. They were the ones who got seven rings."

"Explain that to Viggo," he groaned. Lij's fingers skipped lightly over each ring.

"You better tell me what you did, so I can keep from doing it."

"Fuck off," Orli gritted and he yowled aloud when Lij leaned down and swiped his tongue over the head of his dick. It sparked through his balls like a flint against stone and only his last shred of sanity kept him from snatching Elijah back down.

"Tell me," Lij sang and he did it again, lips carefully parted to keep from smearing his makeup.

"Christ! Fuck, Lij, don't...stop...don't...shit, do it harder! Harder!"

Elijah only laughed and sat back on his heels, "If you tell me, maybe I will."

"You little cunt," he groaned, and it could only have been the better half of insanity, induced by Lij's soft little tongue flickering between those rings that made him admit, "I picked up some girl in a bar."

Elijah froze, and Orlando nearly screamed, digging his nails into his palms to keep from grabbing the little fucking pricktease. Curses were stumbling over themselves in his tongue and Orli couldn't manage to settle on one, his cock throbbing in time with his heartbeat.

"You... what?"

Something in Elijah's voice managed to pierce through the fog in his brain. Orlando opened his eyes and he wilted under Lij's regard. He looked... like Frodo, eyes so wide and impossibly blue and...and stunned, a deeply wounded expression on his face.

"Lij..." he started, regretfully and he wasn't surprised when Lijah shoved him away violently, clambering to his feet.

"You stupid selfish bastard," he hissed, quivering with anger. "He should have torn a strip off your ass!" Elijah stormed out of the trailer, leaving Orli to jerk his pants up hastily before anyone outside got a free show.

"He still might," Orlando sighed, straightening his leggings. If not for screwing around then certainly for pissing off Lij. He was so fucked. The only plus was at least he could walk properly now.

It wasn't much of a consolation.

~~*~~

Orli managed to make it through the rest of the afternoon somehow, but he was off-- and so was Lij, and even Viggo wasn't at 100%, so finally Peter gave up and went away muttering Kiwi obscenities about revising the script.

Hugo favored them all with a disgusted stare, Sean Bean gave Viggo a disdainful look, and assorted elves and dwarves and men stomped off the set muttering. The WETA crew came in and started collecting leaves as Orli slouched away, his shoulders slumped.

He went back to wardrobe, and then to his trailer, where the door, still lying off its hinges, mocked him. He took his time taking out his contacts, moping. When he was scrubbed clean of makeup, he sat still for a few minutes, unable to muster the initiative to put the door back on its hinges-- it didn't look like he'd have any company soon, anyway. He wasn't very popular at the moment.

At least the argument had killed his little problem. His cock felt like it might never stir again, even when he took it in his hand to tuck it into a pair of clean sweats. He had to face the music; if he stood Viggo up tonight he'd never get invited back.

He shouldered into a worn-out t-shirt and jammed his favorite baseball cap onto his head, and a pair of sunglasses, then went out into the waning daylight and caught the bus uptown towards Viggo's hotel. He had enough presence of mind to remember his key, and was grateful that the elevator still responded to it, even though he dragged his heels heading down the hallway and hesitated before knocking on Viggo's door.

Elijah would be there, indignant, with hectic red spots burning on his cheeks, full of recrimination and accusation and madder than hell, and who knew how Viggo felt, anyway? There was no telling.

Before he could knock, the door swung inward. "Orlando." Viggo's voice, smooth and rich as single-malt whiskey. "Come in. You're nearly late." That was enough to make him hustle, but once inside, there was nothing to do except slouch.

Elijah sat crosslegged on the bed, still wearing most of his hobbit makeup, but without the wig or the ears and feet. He looked edible, but Orli had no hope of getting a taste any time soon.

Viggo closed the door behind Orlando and surveyed him with eyes that gave away nothing. "Strip."

Strangely reluctant, Orli obeyed, pulling his shirt slowly over his head. Yesterday, he would have done it eagerly, probably started before Viggo even asked him to, if he thought he could get away with it. Today, faced with Elijah's angry eyes and Viggo's indifference, he could hardly stand to unfasten his pants. His dick was completely flaccid and only the fact it had been tight to begin with kept the cockring from sliding off. Orli felt himself blushing, embarrassed at his lack of response, but it wasn't as if Viggo and Lij were showering him in vibes of lust.

Fuck it. He crossed his arms over his chest and met Viggo's eyes evenly. If things were already screwed up beyond saving, then it hardly mattered if he was limp or hard enough to pound nails.

"Elijah," Viggo said, his eyes never leaving Orlando's, "Orli needs a little help."

"So?"

"So I want you to help him," Patiently, amazingly so for Viggo, barely even a hint of warning.

"Why should I?" Lij snarled. "Who knows where he's been sticking that thing? If he wants to give people the fucking crotch rot he can go do it somewhere else."

Orlando cringed inwardly. This was a mistake, one huge fucking mistake from day one, and he should just cut his losses and leave...except they were going to be here for months yet, nearly a year, and he'd have to see Viggo every day and think about how he'd fucked this up because he was too chickenshit to see it out.

No. He'd earned whatever punishment Viggo and Lijah wanted to dish up, and he was going to take it. Let them try to make him scream, he decided grimly. Just let them try.

Viggo was frowning at Elijah. "Because I told you to," he said, his tone sharp. "And because if you do, I'll let you fuck him."

No matter how pissed Lij was it was impossible not to see the flicker of real interest in his eyes. "Fuck you," Lij said sullenly, but there was no heat behind the words.

"No. You can fuck Orli." Viggo's tone changed suddenly, coaxing, "You've never fucked a man in the ass, Lijah. Do you know how hot it is inside? Orli's a slut, but he's tight as hell."

Viggo's voice could make a stone wall come, Orli decided, swallowing hard, and if he'd been disinterested before, his cock was definitely showing signs of awareness now.

"He's a cheating dickwad," Lij muttered, shifting onto his hands and knees. The makeup made him look younger even than he was, his eyes absurdly large.

"Then make him sorry." Viggo tilted his head towards Orli. "When you turn him on," he pointed out, "he'll suffer."

Lijah's eyes narrowed. "He fucked around on us, Viggo."

"He got a blowjob," Viggo corrected.

"He got a blowjob from some whore in a bar."

"She wouldn't let him pay."

"Guys, I--"

"SHUT UP." They both turned cold glares on Orlando, and he subsided, feeling very much exposed.

"We haven't been paying him enough attention," Viggo resumed talking to Elijah, ignoring Orlando calmly. "We'll have to take care of him better, so he won't forget he's ours." The words sent a sweet thrill up Orli's spine, and his cock reacted, clamped painfully inside the steel jaws of the cock ring. He hissed even as he flushed with pride.

"He is ours," Elijah tried the words on for size, and glared at Orlando.

"Lock, stock, and barrel." Viggo nodded.

"Can I spank him first?" Elijah asked abruptly.

"If that's what you want."

"With a paddle?"

"I don't think you'll need to. Your hands will be enough. He needs to feel skin on his skin. He needs hands and mouths and dicks."

Elijah adjusted himself, wandering over to glower at Orlando. "Go... go bend over the table. No. No, let's go in the bathroom." Orlando blinked, but he obeyed, fear and resentment and lust sizzling through him in conflicting waves. A glance at Viggo was enough to speed him on his way.

"Now bend over the sink. So you can see yourself in the mirror."

Viggo nodded approval, visible leaning against the doorframe. "Good idea."

The countertop was fucking cold, but it didn't discourage Orlando's stubborn erection as he awkwardly spread himself out, nearly nose to nose with his reflection in the mirror. Elijah stepped up behind his ass, surveying him. "Viggo, are you sure I can't paddle him with a hairbrush?"

"Well... maybe after you warm him up."

Orlando gave up all dignity and laid his forehead down against the cool tile of the counter.

"Stop that. Look in the mirror." Elijah's high voice and his own rapid obedience shamed him, making him squirm.

"Lijah?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't let him come." Viggo stepped in and lowered the toilet lid, sitting down to watch.

"Not a chance."

The first blow was nothing-- a girl could've hit Orli harder, and some had-- across the face, a few of them.

"Harder," Viggo urged quietly. "He can take it."

Elijah tried again, and managed to jerk a little sting. "Ow," he complained.

Orli smothered a snicker, but not well enough, and that pissed Lij off. The next flurry of blows crackled sharp and fast, and Orli grimaced a little, keeping half an eye on Viggo, who sat back calmly, not offering further criticism. Lij kept going once he was fairly started, alternating hands, and Orli bit his lip. He might look puny, and he was maybe a slow starter, but he wasn't a girl at all-- he wasn't tiring, and he wasn't backing off out of pity.

"Move around some." Viggo advised.

"Spread your legs," Lij told Orlando, slaps coming lower on Orli's ass, aiming at the tender crease of hip and thigh. Orlando squirmed to obey; what was worse than the spanking was looking at Lij's face while he delivered it-- smug and malicious and with a shade of hurt still lurking in his blue eyes.

And what was worse than that was the fucking cock ring. It caught the cold of the tiles, lacing Orli's flaming skin with bars of ice, and it didn't yield a fraction to his swelling cock, which had chosen to take his humiliation and Lij's touch as an encouragement. Moving his legs just meant he couldn't keep the pressure of his dick and his nuts, and he moaned when he settled again. Elijah's tongue slicked his lower lip.

Lij's palms were red, but he kept smacking Orli, open-handed, working up and down his exposed arse until Orli began to jerk, whimpering as his cock was ground against the counter top. "He's ready for the hairbrush," Viggo purred after a few more blows, and Lij backed off, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Good. My hands fucking hurt."

Orli saw the hairbrush before he felt it, reflected in the mirror, and just the sight had him wincing. Apparently, only natural bristles were good enough to tame the snarls from Viggo's hair, but it wasn't the bristles so much as what they were attached to, a wooden handle that curved perfectly into Lijah's hand.

Lij smoothed his other hand over Orli's hip and around to his stomach, stinging hot in comparison to the countertop and Orli lurched forward despite himself, trying to rub against it while he could. Before he got even a half a wank, Lij pulled away, laughing mockingly. "I'm going to enjoy this," his voice was dark with promise, and without another warning, the hairbrush cracked against Orli's arse.

"Fuck!" he yelped, his nails skittering over the counter and Elijah stopped. His sinuses stinging, Orlando blinked frantically. That had hurt a hell of a lot worse than Lij's hand and it had taken him off guard. Bracing himself for another blow, Orli vowed not to make another sound. He'd seen Lij wriggling over Viggo's lap, all but inventing new ways to curse and Orlando wasn't going to give him the pleasure of doing the same.

Nothing happened. It took Orli a minute to realize Lijah was touching the mark that the brush had left on his arse, tracing the outline. "Look at that," Lij said, and Orli shivered to hear it. There was wonder in his voice, and a trace of something like greed, and Orli remembered Lijah looking at his own welts with that same kind of look in his eyes.

Lij pinched him suddenly, right on the fucking spot, the heat of the mark flared red-hot and Orlando bit his tongue.

He was so fucked.

The next crack of the brush fell on the other side and Orli had a mental picture of matching marks on both sides of his arse. But Lij didn't take the time to play with that one, and the strokes started falling faster, spreading evenly over his arse like Lijah was determined not to miss a spot. Methodical fucking cunt had been spending too much time with Viggo, and a blow against the back of his thigh yanked a cry from Orli, the pain just a little too sharp.

"Not too low," Viggo warned behind him, and Orli barely had a moment to be grateful before Lij obediently moved back up. His arse was on fire with it, acid pain that had him sweating. Orli pressed his forehead against the cool mirror, staring into his own blurred eyes and he was at the point of saying something, anything, degrading Lij's parentage back to Eve if it would make him fucking well stop.

"Spread out over a sink with your ass in the air is a good look for you," Lijah observed, and he slapped the brush against Orli's arse again, putting some force behind that he seemed to have been holding back and it was just a little too much for Orlando to take.

"You little fucking cunt!" Orli snarled, "I'm going to ram that fucking hairbrush up your arse until you gag on it!"

"Promises, promises," Lijah taunted. "I bet if I keep going you'll glow in the dark."

"I'll kick your fucking arse!" Orli struggled as the brush came down again-- the hell with getting laid; no way was Elijah sitting here and--

"Will you kick mine?" A ghost of irritation in Viggo's interruption. "Lijah, hand me the brush." Orli flopped back down on his chest, breath rushing out of him in a rush as Viggo's hand came down on his back. "Lijah, go get a pillow."

Elijah rushed away and Orli stared wildly into Viggo's reflected gaze. The shade of anger wasn't visible in his eyes, but his jaw was set. Elijah produced the pillow swiftly, and Viggo stuffed it between Orli's face and the countertop. "I suggest you scream into that."

"Fuck, fuck, Viggo, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to; I was just--" Orli babbled, struggling.

"You know the rules. You don't touch Elijah. He touches you, and you thank him."

Orli squirmed, frantic, trying to get away, but Viggo held him fast.

"After what you did, you should thank both of us for letting you stay here and get punished instead of kicking you the fuck out." Viggo almost never swore; Orli winced and clenched his eyes shut tight. He was, he was fucking furious.

"When I get finished, I expect a proper 'thank you,'" Viggo warned, and before Orli could gulp agreement, he peppered his ass with a crisp, savage stroke that made Orli bleat out loud like a sheep.

"This," Viggo mused in a pedantic tone, apparently to Elijah, "is how to whip someone with a hairbrush." And with that, he drew back his arm and showed Orlando what it felt like to tangle with the balrog's flaming cat'o'nine tails.

After the third stroke, Orlando buried his face in the pillow and screamed, sucking stale, detergent-flavored air through the fibers; his fingers scraped wildly at the tile and at the mirror, but found no purchase. Sweat poured off him; he could feel it rolling off his ribs with absurd clarity, but couldn't discern it from the tears that welled out of his eyes unbidden, soaking the pillow.

He reared his head back, arching till it hurt. "PLEASE! I'M SORRY! PLEASE!" His fucking cock, GOD, his cock was on fire too, as hard as nails inside its prison; every nerve was alight and he couldn't tell the difference between agony and orgasm; he shuddered, begging, sniveling into the pillow, squirming helplessly.

A last crack seared him, harder than any of those that had come before, and then the whipping stopped.

It took a minute for his head to begin to clear enough to realize that the pain in his arse wasn't growing anymore, and another to realize that the silence filling up the bathroom had an ominous edge to it. Viggo's hand lifted off his back, and Orli slithered to the floor, scrubbing at his nose with his hand, then gasped and flopped onto his side like a fish; his arse fucking hurt.

"Th-th-thank you," his voice was very tiny, and Viggo's jeans felt harsh, the corded denim too coarse for nerves worn raw by sympathetic feedback. He thought of Andy Serkis, and realized how he looked, fawning at Viggo's feet. "Please, no more, please. Thank you. Please."

"Thank Elijah." Viggo's voice was stern, inflexible.

Orli crawled laboriously towards Elijah's bare feet, thought of kissing them, and went for his hands instead, nuzzling into one palm. "Thank you." The words burned, they hurt almost as much as his arse, but Lij's hand curved around his chin, trembling, and Orli licked his wrist, then followed the salt down into the center of the palm and traced it around his fingers, licking and suckling, wondering if Elijah was sweating in sympathy or if he was just tasting his own tears.

"God, Viggo, look at him." Lij's voice shook; the ferocity of the whipping had taken him off-guard too, and Orli could hear his fright, and his heart cracked weirdly as he suckled Lij's fingertips, falling helplessly in love with the lost sound in his voice.

"Get up, Orlando." Viggo's voice had softened too, and he reached to catch Orli's arm. "Slowly, your legs will be shaky. Back on the countertop."

Orli shied, mewling, tears stinging anew, but Viggo shook his head. "That's over, for now. But don't do it again. You want pussy? You ask permission. You want cock? You ask to be let out of the deal. You want Lijah? Get your ass on that counter."

Orli obeyed as fast as he could, but had to have help-- he was wobbling like a newborn, and tears were drying on his face, making his skin feel dry and tight.

"Elijah," Viggo's voice caressed, even as his hand gently stroked Orli's arm, soothing him. "Take him. And don't use lube."

He could barely muster a soft sound of protest. Elijah's hands blessedly cool on his abused backside as he spread Orli carefully, and Orli could feel him lining up, the softest pressure against his arsehole.

"Ah..." Orli whimpered, his hands clenching on the edge of the counter. He was so terribly sore and shaking, and he met Lij's eyes in the mirror. Elijah looked stunned, wide-eyed and he bit his lip when he started pushing.

After having Viggo try to fuck him through beds, tables, walls, and whatever other surface was convenient, it was almost second nature to relax, letting Elijah breech him easily, pushing in to the hilt.

"Oh, fuck," Lijah hissed, his voice breaking. His hips jolted against Orlando's arse in little sharp blurts of pain, and Lij shifted awkwardly, his first thrust so hesitant that Orli barely felt it.

"Like this, Elijah," Viggo murmured, and Orlando yelped anew as the pressure on his backside increased, Viggo's hands brushing him as he caught Lij's hips and pushed him forwards.

He sure as hell caught on quickly, Orlando managed to think, shaking his head desperately as Lij finally gave him a hard thrust, babbling almost incoherently about how tight, how hot Orli was, every other word some kind of a curse.

The cockring bit into him viciously, almost blinding pressure and Orli rubbed against the unyielding counter, separated from it just enough by the metal rings that it only made it worse, and God, he was desperate for anything to just fucking end it, every nerve in his body screaming for some kind of relief.

"Please," Orli begged, and there was no room left in his head to feel even shame. Elijah was fucking him almost frantically, slamming into him like he'd done this a hundred times before, and the agony of his hips slapping into Orli's arse mixed with burn of his cock inside it was suddenly too much to bear.

"Please, I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I'm so fucking SORRY!" he wept, pushing back against Elijah, fucking himself on Lij's dick, no longer caring if he outlasted anyone, if he could take more than Lij, and it was just too much.

Lijah gasped, and Orli felt him quiver, spilling with bone-deep shudders, hands clutching painfully on Orli's hips, and any triumph he might have felt in outlasting Elijah was totally drowned in the despair of his growing certainty that Viggo might just see to it that Orli never came again.

"Help me get him up." Lij was a little shaky, but not as much as Orli, and he helped Viggo haul Orli off the counter and steer him stumbling into the bedroom, where he managed to fall onto his side on the mattress, instead of on his flame-licked backside or on his pain-circled cock.

"Is it safe for him to be that shade of purple?!"

"Not for long," Viggo eyed him critically. "But you'll take care of that."

Lij blinked at Viggo, and Orli fumbled at his cock, trying to decide whether jerking off was allowed, or if he could even bear to touch himself if it was.

"I want you to get on him," Viggo explained. "Mount his cock and ride him till he comes."

"But...!" Elijah sounded startled, and Viggo's eyes narrowed.

"I said mount him."

"But he was with--"

Viggo didn't say a word, but Orli realized he still held the hairbrush at approximately the same moment Elijah did. "Suck his cock," Viggo's voice whispered absolute authority, "And then sit down on it."

Elijah, eyes fixed warily on the hairbrush, scrambled to obey. He parted Orli's thighs and slipped between them, leaning over indelicately in his haste, and Orli watched as Viggo smiled.

"Yes. Just like that." He stepped forward and slid his palms between Elijah's thighs; Orli watched his fingers appear and then press the slender, pale legs apart. He ran the brush up along the inside of each thigh, and Elijah swallowed hard as its back tickled along his balls and traced up the cleft of his arse.

"Now," Viggo whispered, and Elijah lurched forward, gracelessly sucking Orli down, his tongue fluttering experimentally along the cockring, working Orli's overstimulated flesh almost painfully.

Orli hissed, the muscles in his hips quivering, half-terrified that Viggo would swing the brush and Elijah would bite him in two. But then Viggo dropped the brush on the mattress and leaned in, and Elijah sobbed a low, whinnying moan around Orli's cock.

Orli moaned too; he almost never got to see Viggo tongue Lijah's ass-- just like he almost never sucked cock, and absolutely never bottomed.

Elijah whined, keen and high pitched, and sucked harder, his mouth working slickly up and down Orli's cock.

"Now, Lijah," Viggo whispered darkly, pushing Lij forward to straddle Orli's hips. Lij caught Orli's wet cock in one trembling hand, positioning him and slowly sinking down.

The first ring resisted stubbornly, both Lijah and Orli straining towards each other, trying to work past it. It gave suddenly, sliding to the next one and both of them yelped. Lij's eyes were clenched tight and he worried his bottom lip between his teeth, tightening inside almost unbearably and then relaxing, the second ring prying its way inside.

It was absolutely fucking unbearable, Lij's slow persistence as he pushed down steadily and Orli slammed a clenched fist down on the bed, trying not to grab him and fucking force him down, to flip him over and just shove his way past any resistance, to just fuck him until he squealed.

The world had blurred into something like insanity, Lijah rocking on him slowly, crooning obscenities, so fucking tight, the combination of Lij's arse and the cockring clenching his dick like a vise. Orli shook his head, sending droplets of wet flying, sweat or maybe tears, and fuck, fuck, this was KILLING him, it was too much, too fucking much.

"Come on, Orlando, you can come now," Viggo murmured, and Orli dimly felt him sliding a hand over his chest, moving slickly through sweat. "He marked you, didn't he? Yes, that's it," he encouraged as Orli gasped and choked, snapping his hips upward. "He marked you, now you can mark him. C'mon, Orlando, do it, come on--"

Orlando screamed into Viggo's hand, suddenly clamped over his mouth, his dick swelling as he finally, finally let go and came, spurting in hot throbs that sent pulses of agony through his cock, distorted pleasure that he thought might never end, would just keep pouring through him until he'd spent every ounce of come and blood he had into Lijah.

He nearly screamed again as Lijah moved off of him, letting his cock slide out and flop limply over his balls. Orlando whimpered, drained and helpless as a soft tongue lapped at him gently, Lijah, he knew, cleaning him, dipping around the rings to catch every drop.

"Elijah?" Viggo's calm voice.

"Mmmh?"

"Take the cockring off Orlando..." Elijah obeyed, working it tenderly over the dwindling flesh, and Orli gasped softly, his muscles lapsing into boneless relief. "...and put it on yourself."

Elijah's eyes went wide as saucers. Orli snickered, helpless to stop, covering his mouth with his arm, and Lij elbowed him crossly.

"Orli?"

"Yeah?"

"SHUT UP."

-finis-

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