Dies Irae

by Vivi and Nienor

It was almost too cool a night to be outside with just a tee shirt, and Elijah rubbed the gooseflesh on his arms silently. They were almost to the front of the line, anyway, so bitching now would just get him into trouble sooner rather than later. It would be better to just behave for a little while longer until he saw exactly where Viggo was taking them. Orlando stood next to him, smoking quietly, savoring each inhalation, because Viggo had warned him it would be his only one for the night. It could mean several things; hopefully just that there was no smoking inside.

The line shuffled forward again, and the three of them went with it, only a few people from the door. A peek around him didn't reveal anything interesting; just the usual kind of people you'd expect to see at a bar. It was the duffel bags that were making Lijah curious. Everyone seemed to have a bag of some sort with them, from a basic backpack to suitcases to thousand-dollar leather duffels.

Everyone included Viggo; just a plain black bag that he was carrying himself. That alone made the bag all the more remarkable, that Viggo hadn't just tossed it at him or Orli to carry. Lijah had tried to offer, more for a chance to get his hands on it than anything else, but Viggo's look had shut him up quickly.

He'd been a piss-ass mood lately, something that both Orli and Lijah's asses would testify to, not that they were complaining... or at least not out loud. Orli didn't used to get spankings at all, and certainly not as often as Lij, but that was a thing of the past. Just a piss-ass mood, and that made the little black bag all the more menacing. And enticing, enough to make Lij shift uncomfortably, surreptitiously adjusting himself in his pants.

If nothing else, the evening promised to be interesting.

Another shuffle forward, and it was finally their turn. A guy who looked like he should have taken a part as a stunt double for the Cave Troll was in front of the door, checking ID, and Lij was both surprised and irrepressibly curious when Viggo flipped open his wallet silently, and all three of them were quickly ushered in.

It just went to show you that appearances could be seriously deceiving, and Lij's jaw dropped open as he took in the hallway they'd walked into. The part of town they'd just been in looked like a warehouse district, and this building was no exception, until you passed the door. Lij wasn't sure what he'd been expecting-- some kind of techno punk club, maybe, but this place surpassed his wildest imaginings. He traded a wide-eyed glance with Orli, whose mouth quirked upwards; he wasn't showing his amazement, but he wasn't unmoved, either.

The whole place was done in metal and leather, with colored lights shining down from high, recessed ceilings, giving the hall a surreal look. Viggo led the way to a door on the left-hand side of the hall, and they entered a changing room, like a gym, with lockers-- all painted black, with silvery chrome accents. There were showers on one end of the room, and bathrooms; it would have seemed terribly mundane except for the color scheme and the scattering of people inside, chattering and changing-- into leather gear; harnesses and hoods and boots.

Elijah licked his lips, his heart speeding up with anticipation. Viggo opened his duffel and Elijah and Orlando both crowded close, curious to look inside, but Viggo's glare backed them off. He tossed each of them a combination lock. "Get out of your clothes and put them in a locker. Put these on the doors; I've got the combinations."

Orli immediately started peeling, completely unselfconscious of the looks he gathered-- he was whip-slender, but muscled, and his sunburst tattoo called attention to his lean belly and sharp hipbones. Lij felt pale and girlish by comparison, and he made a vow to work out more, but when Viggo cleared his throat, he hastily elbowed his way out of his shirt and chose a locker.

He blinked when he saw the jeans were almost exactly like the ones he'd been wearing before, and pretty modest considering what everyone else was strapping into and buckling on. Lijah shrugged mentally and pulled them on, realizing half a second later they weren't all that much like his other jeans, after all. Skin-fucking-tight, and he had to exhale just to fasten them, grimacing as his balls and dick were crushed behind unyielding denim.

A little squirming loosened them a fraction, until he could actually breathe, and he found he was a lot happier about the jeans when he saw that Orli was putting on a cock-ring, that particularly nasty one with the seven rings. He snickered, not quietly enough, and Orli gave him a vicious glare while he adjusted the widest ring behind his balls. Better to squeeze into too-tight pants than to have a dozen strangers watch you slip that bastard on.

Next on the bench was what looked like a pile of glossy black mesh. Lijah puzzled over it for a minute, trying to figure out how it went on before he realized it was some sort of shirt. He managed to get the head and arms sorted out and tugged it over his head. It fit loosely and hid exactly nothing, his nipples peeking out between the netting.

There was a mirror nearby and Elijah went over to it and looked at himself. Not too shabby, he decided. The black mesh made him look that much paler, but also masculine, the bulge at his crotch obvious in the tight pants. He ran a hand over it, testing, watching other people in the mirror watching him.

Not bad at all.

"Elijah. You missed something," Viggo's voice cool and firm, and Elijah turned to see him dangling something from one finger. He reached out and took it, running his fingers over very fine leather and delicately wrought buckles. A collar.

"Put it on," Viggo purred, and he did, mindlessly, struggling with the buckles until Viggo batted his hands away and expertly fastened it himself, smoothing the leather over the fine skin of Elijah's throat.

Elijah swallowed and felt the uncompromising pressure of it against his Adam's apple, his eyes wide and startled in the mirror. He felt... owned, and the thought made blood rush to his groin, making the pants that much tighter. He lifted his hands and touched it; it was tight, and didn't slip from side to side, even when he slid his finger through the ring at his adam's apple.

Viggo's lips lifted in a wry smirk, and Elijah realized his hands weren't empty. He held a supple leather cord, like a whip-- only it wasn't; suddenly Elijah saw the clasp in his fingers and knew what it was for. His fingers tried to slide between the leather band and his throat even as Viggo lifted the leash; he tugged at it, heart pounding.

"Be still, little cunt. You can't get it off that way." Viggo's voice was very soft, but it carried over the locker-room noise easily.

He couldn't, he realized; there was a small padlock fastened in the buckle. He'd have to slice through the leather, or take bolt cutters to the lock. "Viggo!" He felt himself on the verge of panic; he hadn't bargained on this.

"Shut up." Viggo clipped the leash into the ring. "And do as you're told."

Elijah heard Orli snicker behind him, and he turned him a nasty look. "Shut up, slut! At least I have something to wear."

"Who says I don't," Orli taunted, and he tipped his chin back to show Elijah another collar fastened neatly around his neck. The buckles weren't as ornate as his, but there was some kind of design stamped into the leather. "Of course, I managed to get mine on all by myself, without daddy having to dress me."

"Orlando." Viggo's voice was as sharp as a whip crack and they both fell silent. He tugged on Elijah's leash until they were next to Orli, and his voice was low as he said, "Neither of you is allowed to say one more word without permission, or so help me I will send you both outside dressed like that and find someone else to enjoy tonight." His eyes searched theirs, coldly serious, and both of them nodded silently.

"One last thing." Viggo rummaged in his bag, and pulled out strips of black leather with holes-- eyeholes, Lij realized, and buckles in the back. He handed one each to Elijah and one to Orli, and then took out another for himself. Theirs only covered their temples, but his covered the entire top of his head and his cheeks. It gave him an evil look, like Batman, his hair visible only below it, his eyes sharp blue, looking through the black leather.

In spite of his snark, Orli helped Elijah tighten the buckle on his mask, and Lij helped him in return. His stomach was twisted in knots and it was only a small comfort that Orli was as pale as he was. Viggo's hand settled at the back of his head and he tensed, but it only petted gently, sliding down to toy with the collar. "You're going to make me proud tonight," Viggo crooned into Lijah's ear, a silken threat. "Or I will make you regret that you didn't."

Elijah swallowed hard. "I'll try, V--"

Viggo's hand slid over his mouth, fast as lightning. "Master, tonight. And you will do better than try." His glance slid to one side to include Orlando, and Lij nodded wordlessly, tongue flickering out to taste the salt of Viggo's palm.

Viggo left his hand over Elijah's mouth and reached the left hand to Orli, clipping a second leash to his throat. "You will be the best, the most obedient, the most desirable and responsive submissives in this club tonight, is that understood?"

They nodded, Lij swallowing hard, reminded once again of the tight collar by the constricted motion of his throat.

"Then let's get out there." Viggo slammed his locker and clipped the lock shut. He picked up his duffel and tugged on the leashes, maneuvering them all back out into the hall.

Elijah jostled against Orli, jockeying for position, and managed to nip in front of him, closer to Viggo. Viggo looked hot, shiny leather pants cupping his ass with a lover's touch, laces dangling a tempting invitation in the front. He wore soft black leather boots Lij would bet money had been nicked from WETA.

Music throbbed in the hall, louder as they moved further into the building. Lij was surprised that there was no smell of smoke in the air; most clubs reeked of it, but this one was different. Two bouncers revealed the reason, posted at the double doors checking bags.

Viggo responded to Lij's bright, urgent look. "Looking for drugs. Coke, X, whatever. This place is class-- none of that dangerous shit." He handed over his duffel and they rummaged through it impersonally but with care, then handed it back to him. One turned to Lij and Orli, eyes narrowing.

"He's not hiding anything," the left-most guard chuckled at Orlando. "Unless it's up his ass."

"Present," Viggo snapped at Orli, and caught his head, pushing it down. Orli caught on and bent over. "Open your ass."

Orli spread his cheeks and Elijah tittered as the guard inspected him-- and earned a look of pure venom from Viggo. "Check him extra carefully," Viggo told the bouncer. "Be sure he's not hiding anything."

The second guard, the one who hadn't spoken, nodded silently and pulled on a rubber glove, dipping two fingers into a small jar. Orli didn't move an inch when he thrust both fingers inside, his only reaction a slight tensing in his thighs, and Elijah grudgingly admired his control. He wouldn't have expected it from Orli.

The guard's face was completely impassive as he twisted his fingers in Orli's ass, only pulling them free after flicking his eyes at Viggo. He nodded again, and waved Orli through. Viggo braced a hand under his chest and helped him stand, Orli's face flushed with blood and unmistakable pride, and only when all eyes were on him did Lijah realize it was his turn.

His throat was uncomfortably tight, blood squeezing past the collar through his jugular in nervous pulses. Eyes straight ahead, he stepped forward boldly, and he'd fucking well castrate himself before he let Orlando be braver than him. It was rather disappointing that the guard only patted him down, fingers dipping briefly into his pockets, and neither of them asked him to drop his pants. Half a protest was lurking on his tongue; why the hell didn't they think HE might smuggle drugs up his ass?

He bit it back, watching sullenly as Viggo stepped forward and was patted down as well; his face was expressionless beneath the mask. They handed Viggo back the bag and waved them all through the doors. Orli and Lij followed at Viggo's heels, both trying to peer past him without being obvious.

The sudden blast of music was almost deafening, making Elijah reel back a pace, but he recovered quickly before Viggo could tug on the leash. The absence of smoke was more than made up for by the odor of sweat and incense hanging in the air; thick, but it was not unpleasant.

As nice as Viggo's ass looked in those pants, Elijah wished resentfully that it would get out of the way and let him see something. So far, all that was visible aside from Viggo was the elaborate metal grate beneath him, showing tantalizing hints of movement and what might be flesh writhing along with the music.

"Keep your heads down," Viggo said, barely audible over the music. "And do not make eye contact with anyone. Is that understood?" Orlando was nodding obedient agreement before Elijah had even finished puzzling out what Viggo had said, and he flushed angrily as Viggo patted Orli's head, stroking the shaved line of his hair, and he saw that Viggo's hands were gloved in black leather too.

Fuckers, he fumed silently, keeping his eyes down. He was just as fucking obedient as the fucking slut was. More, even, not spreading his legs happily for anyone with a glove and a few fingers.

The stairs were a little harder to maneuver, only wide enough for one person at a time, and Elijah moved closest to Viggo pointedly, following him down and trying to ignore the almost serene expression on Orli's face. He wasn't fooled, not one damned bit, and if Viggo would only fucking look, he'd see the smugness shining in Orli's eyes.

No. No fucking way was Orlando fucking Bloom going to beat him at this. If Viggo wanted Elijah to be an obedient submissive, then he was going to be getting one.

The music throbbed through the spiral staircase, but they were moving away from it as they climbed. Eyes directed downwards, Lij caught his first glimpse of their fellow patrons as they finally climbed over the level of their heads. Leather and skin dominated the dress code. He could see into the pit where the dance floor was, through the hole in the floor, and there was even more skin on display there, wriggling and gyrating in time to the beat. He caught a whiff of alcohol, too, amidst the incense.

There were both men and women present, and that oddly made Elijah more self-conscious; he wasn't used to being on display this way for women. They were lovely though, pink-tipped white breasts accented by leather harness straps, cat suits, and some with nothing more than chains.

He tore his eyes away, not wanting to be caught dawdling, and cut a sly, furious look at Orlando as they reached the top and started around the balcony. The scent of sweat was stronger here, and moans penetrated the dense cloud of music, punctuated by an occasional shrill yelp or scream.

Lij shivered and wished he dared to lift his head and look at more than the feet of the people around them. But then something caught his eye and made him forget the noise; a burly man was standing at the bar on the floor below, staring straight up at him. He was dressed in a tight black catsuit accented with a leather harness and straps; it covered him from mid-thigh to wrist. He was hooded like Viggo, staring up at Elijah, licking his lips with deliberate lascivious intent. He had a beard like Boromir's, and Boromir's build, and for a moment Elijah panicked looking at him-- Sean? It couldn't be. Not here.

Orli jostled him viciously, tearing his eyes away from the man, and when he looked back, he wasn't being watched any longer, so he decided it was all his imagination and tried to relax. Viggo had been a hard-ass bastard ever since the scene with Sean, and Lij was by no means certain that had been everything Sean claimed it was; certainly Viggo wouldn't discuss it, and Sean had never been back.

Lij elbowed Orli and tried to nod his attention towards the man, but Orli didn't catch on, so Lij bared his teeth at him in frustration.

Then the incident passed from his mind; Viggo's hand fell on the back of his neck and shook him lightly. "Lijah. Look."

Elijah lifted his head, obedient, and watched a dildo the size of his upper arm sink into the body of a woman who lay stretched on a rack. He nearly squeaked; Viggo knew he'd never had a girl, or even been this close to someone who was.

She writhed, whimpering, and Lij shifted, his cock pinched inside the tight pants, swelling to agony. Viggo laughed and patted it, hand caressing lightly. "Maybe sometime I'll arrange to let you have a girl while I watch. Would you like that?"

Lijah nodded, speechless. Orli was merciless tormenting him for his "virginity," and it was a commodity Lij would gladly be rid of.

"See how well she takes it?" Viggo whispered. "She's a sweet fuck, but not half as sweet as you and Orli. I like to watch you gasp, the way she does. I like to watch your eyes close as you struggle, and see your fists clench."

Elijah whimpered, suffering under Viggo's soft stroking. "Shall I do that to you tonight? Shall I see how much dildo you can take, with half the club watching?"

Elijah heard Orli whimper too, and glanced aside to see his dick was swelling inside the cock ring, and turning angry red. "Orli likes to watch you take it up the ass," Viggo hummed softly in Elijah's ear. "I think I'll use him like a surgeon's nurse. He'll hand me whatever I need, so I can keep the dildo buried in you. Or maybe...." He nuzzled along Elijah's check. "Or maybe my arm. Would you like that? We haven't done that since the first time."

"Yes, Master," Elijah whispered, and Viggo leaned in to kiss him, tipping up his chin with one finger.

"You certainly have fine taste, I'll give you that." The soft, familiar voice made Viggo freeze, his lips a breath away from Lijah's. He straightened automatically, turning to face the owner of that voice, and Elijah immediately dropped his eyes back to the ground.

Fuck. It was one of the few times in his life he wished he'd been wrong.

"Particularly good choice of clothes for him," Sean continued, his boots coming into Lij's line of sight, and he could see that Sean was standing next to Orli. "His skin is a much better decoration than anything you could have dressed him in."

Orlando was still and silent, his hands clenched into fists, and Elijah wondered anxiously if Sean had actually touched him. His eyes ached from the strain of trying to use his peripheral vision to look, but he wasn't about to move even an inch to see; he'd bet money Viggo was already pissed.

"Thank you," Viggo said finally, and his voice was so cold he could have spat ice cubes. Elijah shivered in sympathetic chill.

"I'm actually surprised you brought them to a place like this. The last time I saw them they were a little... shall we say, rebellious?" Elijah stiffened at the taunt in Sean's voice, biting the tip of his tongue.

Son of a fucking bitch-whore, he swore silently. Viggo was going to be proud of them, he decided suddenly, if he wanted to take a strip off Lijah's ass, or a dozen strips, Elijah wasn't going to make a sound without permission.

"I'm sure they'll do fine," Viggo replied, his voice as smooth as melted chocolate. He slipped two fingers beneath Lijah's chin, tilting his head up again and licking his cheek with unmistakable possessiveness.

Elijah could see Sean's face now, and his smirk only redoubled his determination. He tilted his head like a cat, half closing his eyes to Viggo's touch, and watched in satisfaction as Sean's eyes darkened.

"I'm sure they will, as well," Sean said, his voice syrup sweet. "They'll be doing a show tonight then?"

"Yes," Viggo nuzzled the word against Elijah's ear, letting his chin drop. "They will."

"Then my companion and I will be sure to watch." Sean stepped aside, and Lij felt sudden tension in Viggo, disproportionate with the unassuming nature of the new set of feet that appeared, clad in conservative black sneakers under black jeans.

The new voice, though, stopped his breath in his chest, and he froze. "Absolutely exquisite." Warm and amused, the rich British accent caressed the words, and the age-gnarled hand that entered his field of vision and advanced provided him a focus. He watched helplessly as the fingers slid under his chin and lifted; the thumb was soft and gentle as it traced his lower lip. Feeling like a deer caught in headlights, Elijah looked straight into a familiar unmasked face crowned with untidy white hair, incongruous over a black silk shirt and tie.

Sir Ian smiled at him, weathered face looking as though he knew the most amusing secret. "Perfectly lovely," he repeated.

Elijah's breathing re-started with a panicky jerk; his peripheral vision caught Sean's hand stroking along Orli's hip, and then Viggo's sharp motion as he interposed his body between Sean and Orli, bumping Sean back roughly. Viggo caught Ian's wrist with less rudeness and more grace.

"Excuse me." His voice was hard as diamond, unflinching in its disapproval. "You're interfering with my pets."

"I beg your pardon." Ian smiled, perfectly composed, dropping his hand and stepping back. "The temptation of your lovely boys overcame my good manners."

Orlando sidled close to Elijah, his bare flank brushing Elijah's hip, and Elijah resisted the temptation to huddle closer, glad once more that he wasn't naked. Surely Viggo wouldn't--

"You're welcome to look, but don't touch." Viggo's voice remained soft, but there was a tone of steely determination under it. "I wouldn't dream of disappointing such a determined vigil."

Orli made a little distressed sound low in his throat and slipped halfway behind Lij.

"Sean, go fetch us a drink." Ian's voice was smooth and unassuming, but Sean vanished at his command. "If you're sure we won't trouble you?"

"Not at all." Still that tone of steel. "Make yourselves comfortable." He gave Orli and Elijah a warning glance, tilting his head toward the nearest alcove, and they scurried ahead of him.

Elijah hardly had the presence of mind to look at the gear in the alcove; he was so conscious of Sir Ian's eyes on him, it felt like a feather touching his skin. It hadn't been that way when he was naked as Frodo, not even when he realized Liv Tyler had sneaked into the set.

"Slut." Viggo's voice was soft, but it galvanized Orli, who straightened up and stopped acting like a blushing virgin, forcing his hands back to his sides. "Are you ashamed, slut?"

"No," Orli's tongue stole out and licked his lips. "No, master."

"That's good." Viggo's eyes narrowed like lasers. "If I thought you were ashamed to be mine, slut, I wouldn't be pleased. Do you understand me?"

"No, master." Orli sounded panicked, but Viggo's glare did not release him. "I'm not, I'm not. Used to other people." He threw a wild helpless look at Elijah, who could only let him flounder. "Being here," he ended lamely. "Watching." He was crimson, a shade of embarrassment Elijah had rarely seen on him.

Viggo stepped forward, eyes intent on Orlando. "Then you will perform with extra care, so that I don't have to be ashamed that you're mine." But Elijah could tell that he wasn't angry, and he realized that had to mean Viggo was uncomfortable too, and understood-- but he was too proud to back down, his spine straight. He raised his gloved hand and lifted Orli's chin, leaning in to kiss him-- deep and wet and thorough, till Orli's sagging cock firmed, darkening in its prison, and he made a soft sound of submission low in his throat.

Viggo stepped back, a half-smile curling his wet mouth. He looked at Elijah without releasing Orli's face. "What's your favorite part of him, slut?"

Orli licked his lips, surprised, and then paused for a moment's thought before he answered. "His mouth."

"Then kiss him." Viggo stepped back and Orli advanced; Elijah stared into his eyes, feeling somewhat like a deer in headlights, aware of their audience out of the corner of his vision. Orli laid his hands awkwardly on Elijah's shoulders, then leaned in and kissed him clumsily.

Elijah stiffened, then opened under the soft pressure; Orli's mouth was sweet in its uncertainty. "That's my little cunt," Viggo's voice whispered in his ears, velvet snakeskin shedding, and Viggo's hand slid around Elijah's ribs and over his ass. Elijah's head spun dizzily, and some part of him tried to remain remote, dissecting; Viggo was taking care of them, helping them past the awkward moment; Viggo would make sure everything was all right.

Then he was lost as Viggo's hand slipped under his shirt and found his nipple, nails sparking pain as he pinched. Elijah moaned into Orli's mouth, letting himself go slack between the hard bodies that bracketed him like bookends.

"Suck his nipples," Viggo whispered, and Orli slid southward, mouthing Elijah through the mesh. Viggo's fingers tangled in Elijah's hair; he pulled and Lij let himself fold backwards, feeling Viggo's rough stubble and hot mouth on his throat, a direct accompaniment to Orli's tongue playing in the coarse weave of his shirt.

Elijah opened his eyes, gazing hazily back at the hungry gleaming eyes in the faces that had gathered-- more than he had expected, and many he did not know, and it helped. He licked his lips and moaned, letting his head roll, baring his throat for Viggo.

Sharp teeth caught a pinch of skin at his throat in unison to Orli biting down on his nipple, like he and Viggo had some sort of weird mental link, and Elijah shuddered in surprise, swallowing a whimper. Orlando was worrying his nipple like it was a piece of candy, a prickly little pleasure, and Elijah curled in reflexively, both wishing he'd stop and hoping he wouldn't.

"Slut," Viggo's voice was sharp, making Elijah flinch before he realized he was speaking to Orlando.

Orli froze, dark eyes rising to meet Viggo's. "Yes, Master?" he whispered against Elijah's skin, his breath soothing after the force of his teeth.

"You look better on your knees," Viggo said, smoothly, and it took hardly a second before Orlando dropped, hard enough to make Elijah wince. Sliding a foot between Lij's legs, Viggo toed Orli's knees apart until they were well spread, his caged dick hanging heavily between his legs.

"Lovely," Viggo purred, his voice dark and sinuous in Elijah's ear, and he nearly nodded in agreement, only just catching himself in time. Orli was lovely, all tanned, gleaming skin and sex, and certainly their audience seemed to think so. "You'd be even hotter with something in your mouth," Viggo added, musingly, and Elijah's cock leapt hopefully in his pants. "I think I have something that will do."

To Elijah's disappointment, Viggo stepped completely away from him and started rummaging through his bag. It was cooler without anyone touching him, exposed, making Elijah want to shrink from the dark, hungry faces peering in at them. He didn't dare look too closely, afraid to catch Ian or Sean's eyes.

A glance at Orli made him ashamed of his apprehension. He couldn't hide anything, not even his own arousal, and yet he was sitting completely still and unashamed, with only the hint of a tremor visible. Elijah wondered if he could do half as well in Orli's place, with a dozen strange eyes studying his dick critically. At least Orli could be proud of that, he thought, a touch bitterly. When women were turned on the only sign a person might see was a hard nipple or two, but men had to poke out and bobble all over the place, where anyone could see. So not fair.

Viggo made a satisfied sound behind him and returned, walking around Lij to Orlando. He slid a finger beneath Orli's chin and tilted his head up. "You like to please me, don't you?" he crooned, and Orli shivered.

"Yes, Master." Orlando's voice was choked.

"I want you to take this, and I want you to use your mouth. And I want you to do a VERY good job, or I won't be rewarding you with more," Viggo warned. He handed something to Orli, a large, dark shape but even squinting Lijah couldn't see it very well. He almost pouted in disappointment, biting his lower lip instead as he tried to see what Orli was doing.

A dildo, apparently, and large enough to make Lij's own mouth water, Orli's tongue a delicate pink gleam against it in the dimness.

Viggo caught Lij by the shoulders, startling him, but he followed the pull of Viggo's hands soundlessly, stepping back away from Orli. He was released just as quickly, Viggo moving away again, towards the growing sea of people undulating nearby. Orlando was making enticing wet sounds, too far away now for Lijah to even guess at what he was doing.

The sudden flare of light in front of him made his eyes water. Lijah blinked it away quickly, his mouth drying at the sight on the floor: Orlando, skin golden in the light, frozen in surprise. His tongue was resting on the tip of a large, black dildo, startlingly realistic and looking very large in Orli's hands. His wide eyes met Lijah's briefly, the whites stark against the blackness of his mask, communicating panic. For the first time, Lijah felt a twinge of sympathy for him, bitterly exposed, and probably unable to see more than a foot past the light. More naked than Elijah thought he could stand.

Don't stop, he tried to share silently. Fuck, don't stop, don't piss Viggo off, don't embarrass us all in front of these people! Maybe Orli understood or maybe he woke up on his own, but he started again, before Viggo even murmured in displeasure. He sucked slowly at first, his tongue flickering uncertainly against black vinyl, then with more confidence, sounds of appreciation filtering from the crowd.

Sweat was shimmering down Orli's chest, gleaming ribbons of wet, and Lijah swallowed hard, knowing how hot it was under a spotlight, riveted by Orli's tongue tracing artificial veins along the dildo's shaft, working its way up to swirl over the tip, leaving it moist and shining. Orli's eyes were closed, his lashes fluttering darkly against his cheeks as he finally sucked on the dildo, inch after inch of dark vinyl disappearing into his mouth, his lips stretching around the base. Distantly, Lijah decided he was showing off, sucking on a cock the size of Lijah's own wrist for the benefit of his audience.

Orli's eyes peeking out from under his lashes confirmed it, flicking towards the moaning crowd as he pulled the dildo completely out before sucking it down again quickly. He worked the dildo expertly, like he'd done this a hundred times before, his own hips rocking slightly and making his cock dance between his thighs, sending bursts of light off the rings to wink like little camera flashes.

Fucking gorgeous, and now that he was past his moment of fear, he was clearly loving every second. The tiny ounce of sympathy Lij had felt for Orli was squelched in a rising tide of jealousy, half of him wanting to be the one pushing into that talented mouth, the other half wanting to shove his ass out of the spotlight and take his place.

An armed snaked suddenly around Elijah's waist and between his legs, squeezing his balls hard enough to make spots dance in front of his eyes and he bit his tongue on a squeal. Only the sudden realization it was Viggo kept him from struggling. Instead, he remained perfectly still, eyes watering as the fucker tried to leave his fingerprints on Lijah's balls through his pants.

"Enjoying the show?" Viggo murmured, his tone strange enough to make Lij hesitate on his answer.

"Yes, master," he replied, uncertainly, and a soft chuff of laughter ruffled his hair.

"Such a little slut." Said with genuine appreciation, and Lijah sourly wished he'd said no, even if Viggo punished him for it.

"Orli's wetting that dildo for you," Viggo promised darkly. "But first, I have something else in mind." His hand tightened, and Elijah saw speckles around his vision; he gasped as his balls shifted, trying to find space inside Viggo's firm hand.

He sucked air desperately when Viggo released him, hardly hearing the rustle of the toy bag. Orli tilted his head back and swallowed around the dildo, his adam's apple moving up and down, his palms open on his thighs.

Then Viggo was back, moving in front of him, and Elijah blinked, his line of sight broken. Viggo smiled, touching his face tenderly. "This is going to be very difficult for you," he whispered. "And I'm going to gag you so you can scream."

Elijah whimpered, his cock twitching inside his pants. Viggo leaned in and kissed him, fucking his mouth slowly with his tongue, then drew back. The ball of the gag was clenched in his fist. "Open up, little cunt."

Elijah opened, and the ball touched his lips and pushed inside. He closed his eyes, tasting Viggo's sweat on the soft foam as it expanded.

"Open your eyes." Viggo was close, and Lij blinked at him. "Are you ready?"

Elijah nodded, knowing Viggo could see his fear, and knowing also that he loved it by the way his mouth curled into his half-cruel, half-fond smile.

"He could suck that dildo till he makes it come," a whisper reached Elijah's ear, surreal, Sean's voice, thick with admiration.

"And it wouldn't take long." Sir Ian, and Elijah flushed.

"Don't listen." Viggo crooned, drowning them out. "Here." He pushed Elijah backwards, and Elijah stepped till Viggo stopped him. He looked up, finding that he stood under a frame roughly the size and height of a doorway, in black metal tubing.

Viggo took his wrist, kissed it, and prisoned it in a manacle that hung there, buckling it down tight. Then the other, and Elijah stood, watching Orli nipping along the shaft of the gleaming dildo, his body wet and his hair glowing around his head like a tousled halo.

Viggo stepped behind Elijah and opened his pants, and Elijah felt himself flush as Viggo teased the zipper down and his cock pushed its way out; he wasn't as well endowed as some men, and being on display made him feel vulnerable. He didn't have long to think about it though; Viggo peeled the faded denim jeans down briskly and tossed them aside, then pulled Lij's ankles apart and fastened them to the frame as well.

Lij heard a murmur of pleasure and dropped his eyes, pretending they were alone. A ratcheting sound startled him, and he felt the pressure on his wrists increase, his body drawing tight as the rack moved around him, pulling him up until the joint of his toes barely pressed the floor. He gasped softly, an image of crucifixion fleeting past his mind. Viggo's hands slid over him in demonstrative possession, briefly fondling his waist and his cock, tweaking his nipple, cupping his ass and sliding down the cleft.

"Are you ready?" Lij nodded even though he suspected no answer was required; Viggo's big hand cradled his balls and his cock, fingers kneading, sending pleasant shocks through him. "Good. Slut." His voice cracked sharply. "Bring the dildo."

The rack tilted, disorienting Elijah and swinging him around and forward, displaying his spread legs and ass toward the spectators

The dildo's head, wet and warm from Orli's mouth, snubbed up against Elijah's ass and pushed in, unlubed; he whimpered and squirmed against the patient pressure. Viggo sank it deep, moving with confident speed, until Elijah trembled, full to bursting. He stared at the footsteps in the dust on the floor; the crowd was murmuring again, and he could just picture how he looked, spread open with the big black dildo inside his ass and Viggo's glove squeezing his hip.

"Fuck him with it while I work," Viggo instructed quietly, and air moved as they traded places, and Viggo spun the rack again. The floor brushed cold under Elijah's toes.

He looked around, frantic, eyes fastening on the toy bag, and then on Viggo's hands. His eyes widened; Viggo held a bag of clothes pins, and his smile had a decidedly frightening edge to it. Lij moaned against the gag; Orli slid the dildo halfway out of him and then pushed it in again, his breath hot against Elijah's neck.

Elijah whimpered, tensing against the restraints as Viggo stepped in. The first pin pinched tight at the base of his scrotum, biting deep between his balls, separating them. It sent a jolt of flame to his cock, and he twitched, clenching on the dildo.

The second pin bit his left nipple, a painfully small pinch of flesh that made his eyes water and felt like a steel spike stabbing him. His right nipple fared no better, especially when Viggo twisted the pins. Elijah cried out, biting hard on the gag.

"Already?" Viggo smiled. He ran his fingertips along Elijah's cock. "This part of you isn't objecting."

Elijah sucked air through his nostrils, meeting Viggo's gaze helplessly. Viggo's hand advanced, and a fourth pin clamped a pinch of the loose skin around his balls. "I have fifty of these, and we're going to use them all," Viggo breathed. "Scream when you're ready. I want to hear it."

The pins burned his tender flesh like lit cigarettes; Elijah breathed frantically and felt his cock twitch as another one sank its jaws in him, and another, and another-- scattered randomly on his balls, then one pinching the skin on his cock, then more on his balls, then one savagely tight on the tip of his cockhead. He jerked at that, yelping, eyes wet, and Viggo added a second next to it.

He shuddered, feeling the leather growing slippery on his wrists. Viggo delicately twisted the pin on his nipple, and he cried out again, tears flowing; the audience moaned, shaming him for his cries.

Orli pressed the dildo into him; half-forgotten, this time it made his balls swing and the pins brushed Elijah's thighs, twisting and pinching. He struggled, curses choked behind the gag. And still Viggo added more, till he looked down and his streaming eyes showed him his balls bristling like a pincushion; pinches of flesh white between the cruel jaws of the pins.

Viggo lifted his balls and rolled them, and Lij gurgled, struggling to hold back, but it hurt, FUCK, it hurt-- like somebody burying his balls in red hot coals. He was sobbing now, his nose running, but he hadn't screamed, hadn't.... "I think I need to adjust these," Viggo purred, and opened the clip on his right nipple, then set it back again, turned ninety degrees; the clip bit already-tortured flesh, contorting it, and the abrupt reversal stabbed white-hot agony through him.

He heard the noise before he knew he made it; terrible harsh noises deep in his throat that continued and sharpened as Viggo reset the second pin; he jerked, fighting the straps frantically, suspended.

It eased slightly, over time that might have been a minute or an hour; he could feel Orli's mouth hot on his shoulder, surreal.

"Take the dildo out of him, slut." Viggo's voice seemed to echo oddly. "We'll leave him as he is while I take care of you."

The dildo easing out of him was barely noticeable, the gaping emptiness it left in his ass only a mild annoyance. His own shivering had set the pins quivering in unholy unison and it was buzzing in his head, almost like the sudden rush of a shot of whiskey, agony perfectly balanced with ecstatic pleasure until he couldn't tell the difference any longer.

"Open your eyes, little cunt," Viggo said gently in his ear and Elijah realized with surprise that they were closed. He opened them in slits, Viggo's hand tousling his hair in reward before he stepped away and went again to his bag.

“On your hands and knees this time, slut, and be sure you present your best side,” Viggo called, not turning around. Orli stepped back into the spotlight without being told, and slid down to his hands and knees with same easy grace he used as Legolas. He really was loving this, Lij saw hazily; he was almost shining with pride at the approving murmurs of the crowd.

Viggo stepped into the light with him and crouched down, plucking the dildo free from Orli's hand. He did something to the base, twisting, before putting it down again, upright, under Orli's face. It stayed, affixed to the floor somehow, and Viggo rose smoothly to his feet.

“I believe you know what to do,” Viggo purred, and Orlando lowered his head without hesitation, lapping again at the dildo's tip. He'd done that before, hadn't he, Lij thought dazedly, only now instead of bitter vinyl the dildo would taste of dark musk, of Elijah, and Orli sucked it eagerly, the dildo gleaming wetly as it slipped in and out of his mouth.

Viggo was moving, and Elijah watched him with bemusement, his arms aching distantly. He stretched, thoughtless, and nearly screamed again as a thousand ice picks of pain twitched through his nerves. His vision dimmed briefly, wavering to black, and Elijah blinked frantically, wanting to see what Viggo was doing.

Orlando kept working the dildo with expert grace, oblivious to anything else except perhaps his audience, and he didn't see Viggo moving to stand behind them. One of the leashes was folded double over Viggo's fist, and Elijah frowned, confused, and it was only when Viggo drew back his arm that he understood.

“Slut?” Viggo said, dangerously soft. “Don't scream.”

~~*~~

The thick, stiff leather of the leash felt good in his fist, proper, and it swung perfectly, the rising hiss of it almost soundless in the din of the club until it met flesh. Its high-pitched thunder rumbled through Orli's body, communicating itself in sudden tension. Orli's eyes flew open in response, and he lurched forward automatically, nearly gagging on the dildo before he hastily retreated, settling back on his hands and knees. Very obedient, his harsh breathing his only sound as he carefully resumed his ministrations on the dildo.

Perfect, Viggo decided, allowing himself a grim smile. He wondered how long it would take to make him scream, and he swung the leash lightly through the air, watching Orli tense until he realized a blow wasn't falling. He relaxed again quickly enough, tonguing the base of the dildo messily, and the moment Orli was at ease, Viggo struck again, with vicious precision.

A low blurt of sound was muffled by the dildo and two wide bars of brilliant red appeared, crisscrossed over Orli's ass. Viggo stepped closer, running gloved fingers over the marks, and he watched Orli tense again. So very responsive-- both of his lovely little pets hurt wonderfully.

Dropping down into a crouch, Viggo caught Orli's chin in a hard grip, holding him still with the dildo deep in his mouth. His eyes fluttered open, startled, and Viggo smiled unpleasantly. “You're a little too proud of yourself, slut, and that does not please me,” Viggo told him, watching a flutter of fear shimmer into Orli's eyes. “Keep that in mind. How much do you want to please me?” he murmured, pushing sweat-dampened hair away from Orli's forehead. “And don't scream.” He stood again, stepping back and winding the end of the leash around his fist.

“Perhaps we'll finally get the show we've been waiting for,” Just loud enough to carry to Viggo's ears. Sean's voice, and he stiffened. Fucking bastard sitting there watching, critiquing, the fucking audacity of the both of them, touching HIS pets in front of the entire club.

If it was a show they wanted, they were going to see one.

Orli barely gave him a flinch with the first blow, and that was fine, perfectly fine, because he aimed the next one a touch lower, at the tender crease of the thigh and that earned him a sharp breath, a hint of tension. Careful, measured strokes, like painting a picture with the leather in crimson, geometrical shapes merging on Orli's flesh as Viggo carefully added color to his ass.

It was terribly easy to hit harder, to force the flinches, anger kindled by the sensation of Sean's eyes burning into his back. Orli had fucking earned this beating a week ago, with smug words and touches, by WATCHING. The fucking little slut, such fucking lovely slut, his ass blood-red and little quivers shaking him between each flinch.

He was crying, Viggo saw, beautiful crystal tears shining under the spotlight, and that was no surprise, though his silence was. He made not a sound except for breath, still obediently mouthing the dildo, although he had lost a great deal of his smug enthusiasm.

Perfectly obedient, and Viggo realized his arm ached even as his chest swelled with pride. The soft appreciative murmurs of the crowd behind him, wet sounds of people responding to them proved it, and Viggo dropped the leash, moving to kneel behind Orli. Orli startled almost violently when Viggo rested his gloved hands against hips and he caught Orli quickly, steadying him.

“Shh, that's done now,” Viggo soothed, running his fingertips over the abused skin, knowing how wonderful the cool leather would feel against the heated skin. It was tempting to strip the gloves away, to lay his bare hand down and feel that obscene heat throb against his palm, but he had other ideas first.

Viggo unfastened his pants, sighing deeply in relief as he pulled his cock free from its leather prison. A soft murmur behind him, Ian, he thought, not loud enough to understand. Viggo ignored it, lining up and pushing inside with a single hard thrust. Orli was still a little slick from the bouncer's inspection earlier and Viggo had a moment to be disappointed in the lack of friction. It was only a mild regret; Orli's ass was still as tight as the first time Viggo had fucked him, spasming around his dick like it was trying to suck him inside.

He drew back and thrust inside again, harder, felt the shock of it in a blissful tightening in Orli's ass. Orli's head was still bobbing up and down as he sucked the dildo with stunning diligence. Viggo shifted forward enough that he could watch, grinding his hips against Orlando and feeling the pained heat of Orli's striped whip-welts against his hipbones as he watched the elusive pink flutter of Orli's tongue against the dildo.

Talented little slut as well; he swallowed the dildo down easily, his lips swollen from his efforts, eyelids shut and shivering slightly. Viggo shoved in again, remembering that pretty face spattered with his come, slick trails that Orlando would slide his fingers through before licking them clean, the same way he was lapping at the dildo.

So fucking good, and he slid a hand beneath Orli's chest and found one nipple, tight and slippery with sweat. Viggo pinched it hard just to see Orlando's mouth tighten briefly before he kept on, his slim hips starting to hitch back into Viggo's thrusts, a tiny disobedience that Viggo allowed because it felt exquisite.

Tears were sliding down Orli's cheeks again, soft desperate sounds escaping from around the gag of the dildo, and he was starting to squirm, trying to push back harder without letting go of the dildo.

Viggo caught his wrists in his hands, holding Orlando still and slamming into him with all the force he could muster, feeling his balls tighten and he pulled out with a groan, grabbing his dick and pointing it down as he came, uneven spurts that pooled on the floor, shimmering under the lights like mercury.

Slowly, he milked himself, staggering to his feet and letting the last few drops fall to stain his boots.

Viggo decided he felt better, even though he actually felt worse; he could hear Elijah whimpering miserably behind him and for a moment, he quivered, doubting himself-- but they needed his strength, and they wanted this, or they would not be here. "Slut...." Viggo's voice was husky, and he told himself it was from the cry he uttered when he came. "You know what to do."

Orlando pulled back, releasing the dildo with thoughtless sensual grace and licking his lips like a cat. He turned, never rising from his knees; his head came to Viggo's waist and Viggo reached out to run his palm over the soft fuzz of the dark mohawk that only emphasized his slim, graceful face.

Orli looked to his eyes for reassurance, and then bent his back-- he had not been required to do this before, Viggo realized; it was something Viggo had always asked of Elijah, when they were alone. That was one omission he was glad to see remedied; Orlando's body bent gracefully in submission, and his dark pink tongue flickered out sensually to curl over black leather.

Viggo could almost taste the salt of the leather as Orlando's tongue caressed it; his teeth plucked at the laces and his tongue snaked under them, tracing the lines and seams of the boot. He found a wet patch and lapped at it hungrily, and Viggo could hear him murmur softly, a low sound of pleasure, and he licked harder, urgently working to take every last trace of the taste.

God. Viggo slid his tongue over his dry lips. Orlando liked this; he wanted it. His eyes were hot as they turned up to Viggo again, and he slid his tongue up the side of the boot, holding Viggo's gaze as though to ask whether he wasn't just as good as Elijah, or maybe even better-- the faintest hint of uncertainty lay raw and vulnerable beneath the heat of his expression.

Viggo bared his teeth silently, a command and an appreciation, and Orli licked downwards again, sliding till his belly touched the floor, his knees wide-spread. He drew his tongue along the curve of Viggo's foot until he reached the toe, then closed his teeth over it and sucked at the tip like a cock, tongue teasing the underside.

Viggo felt his dick twitch, spent though it was, struggling to respond. "More, slut!"

Orli obeyed, broad, flat-tongued swipes along the gore of the boot, not pausing at the strings, cleaning the last few splatters away and licking his lips to savor all the taste, then catlicked his way back down again, and Viggo fumbled for a chair, his knees gone weak. He sat down. Orli took his cue, lifting the boot, and licked the sole from the arch to the toe eagerly, savoring it as though he were relishing the privilege of licking Viggo's dick.

Viggo moaned low in his throat, eyes locked with Orli's, heat meeting supplication. Orli closed his eyes and licked again, tongue making love to the shining leather, tickling between sole and top, tracing curves and curls and angles. His wet, red mouth pressed open kisses to Viggo's instep and he drew the tip of his nose along the laces, caressing and nuzzling.

"My slut," Viggo whispered. "Such a slut you'd even make love to a man's boots. Don't leave a speck of dust on the sole, or I'll cane you for it," he warned, but he knew his tone was hot and full of praise.

Orli dared a wicked smile before licking again-- heel and arch, persistent licks, and Viggo wished he could come enough to cover the whole floor, and watch Orlando go on his knees with his ass in the air as he licked it all up.

"The other one," he whispered, and Orli started again-- not giving a damn about whatever Viggo might have walked through, sucking love bites on the edge of the heel, hands caressing Viggo's ankle.

He watched Orli through half-closed eyes, watched him licking broad swipes over the sole, and Viggo could imagine the taste of dust and grit, the faint bitterness of polish. Orli's lips were red and swollen from his efforts, his eyes peeking up through his lashes as he moved upward again, caressing the metal eyelets with the tip of his tongue.

So desperate for approval, his slut. His boot gleamed wetly as Orlando searched it for any speck of dirt or come, lapping and sucking as eagerly as he had the dildo. His lashes shivered in a soft flinch, the faintest hint of crimson tingeing his lips before he licked it away, and Viggo saw he'd cut his tongue on one of the eyelets.

Orlando didn't so much as whimper, only sucked the blood quickly from his lips before it touched the leather. He continued without pause, using the flat of his tongue now instead of the tip. So pretty, his well-beaten ass in the air like the most obscene of art as he worshipped the dark leather encasing Viggo's foot. Their onlookers were silent, respectfully awed at such exquisite obedience. He wondered if Orli even remembered he was being watched, eyes closed in something like a trance as he searched desperately for any untouched portion.

“Enough,” Viggo murmured, pulling his foot away and he did not miss the way Orli's fingers tightened at his ankle, brief as it was, before he let go and crawled backwards, his head low as he waited for Viggo's command. "The floor, slut," he prompted, letting a hint of displeasure enter his voice.

Orli moved hastily, beautifully, crawling along the floor in search of any creamy droplet. Skin wet and soft-looking in the light, and yes, he was eager to please. His failing was not in defiance but in pride, in knowing exactly how beautiful he was. He was very much a slut in mind, if not in body, and for that he very much needed physical punishment, but not now, where he could bask in the attention of their audience. Better to save that for when they were alone.

Instead, Viggo walked over to Orli and put his foot on the back of his neck, pressing down lightly. Orli froze, his tongue still pressed to the floor and a tremor quivered through the muscles in his back. "Make sure you get it all, slut," he ordered softly, carefully grinding Orli's face against the tiles before he stepped back and freed him.

Orli's hands were clenched into white-knuckled fists, the only sign of emotion Viggo could see, and he nodded approvingly to himself. Still desperate for approval but less pathetic, with a hint of anger to temper it. Lightly, he touched Orli's back, tracing the long scar bisecting his spine before dipping lower and pinching a welt on his ass.

A soft inhalation and the wet sound of his tongue against the floor was the only noise, and Viggo let Orli feel his approval this time, patting his ass gently before stepping back to watch him crawl.

Another soft whimper came from behind him; Elijah, his face twisted beautifully in a grimace of near-anguish. "Your turn will come, little cunt," Viggo promised. Elijah was coming along well, drenched with sweat and shuddering with the pain. The clothes pins held his flesh in mottled white and red pinches; he gleamed wet all over.

"What would you do for me, slut?" Viggo asked Orli, still looking at Lijah.

"Anything." Breathless, thick voice; instant response. Viggo smiled.

"You let me whip you, you lick my boots, you lick the floor, you suck your own filth off my cock," he whispered. "Do you like it?"

"Yes..." anguished honesty.

"What do you dream of, slut?" He caressed the words.

"Your cock in my ass. Your mouth on me. Your hands." Orli drew a shaky breath. "You making me... making me do what you said. You making me show you how much I-- how much I want you."

"How much you what?" Viggo's voice cracked like a whip, almost startling even himself.

Orli's chin dropped; and Viggo felt the certain accuracy of his instinct. "...love you," Orli's voice broke.

"Suck my cock, slut." Viggo didn't let his eyes blink or his voice shake.

Orli crawled forward, trembling; he nuzzled at Viggo's crotch and lipped delicately at his cock. Viggo met his pleading eyes with cold dispassion, and Orli's shoulders hitched as he sucked Viggo's cock in, licking it with desperate adoration, coaxing it with every ounce of skill at his disposal.

"You'll have to do better than that." Viggo made his voice cold and hard. "Elijah could."

Orli whimpered, and somehow, amazingly, he did. His mouth melted like butter, his tongue everywhere, suckling and licking and gently pressing behind Viggo's balls, stroking his mouth over Viggo's cock, as desperately, maddeningly sweet and hot as the first girl Viggo ever fucked. Viggo hardened fast, filling his mouth, nudging the back of his throat and then sliding down it as Orli greedily sucked him in, fucking his own face up and down.

"I said do better," Viggo rasped, and Orli looked up desperately, eyes wet, completely undefended and desperate. There was no more to give.

"On your belly." His voice dripped with contempt, and his own cruelty burned him, but he flared with lust as Orli fell without question, slapping the hard tile.

"What should I do to you?" Viggo nudged his rubs hard with the toe of his boot.

"The cane, Master," Orli whispered.

"No." Impatience, a curling thread of dry in his tone.

"Piss on me? Piss in my mouth." Breathless-- hungry even for that.

"I think...."

Orli lay trembling, tense, wanting.

"I think I have better things to do." Viggo turned and left him, running his hand up Elijah's ribs, ignoring Orli's half-stifled wail. Elijah blinked at him, wide blue eyes hazed with pain. He hardly seemed aware of anything outside himself, and Viggo nodded, approving. "Wake up, little cunt." He slapped lightly at the thicket of clothes pins biting into Lijah's balls.

Elijah threw his head back and screamed into the gag, perfect and shrill; a low purr came from the gallery.

"Yessss," Viggo murmured. "Scream." He reached for one at random, twisting it; Lijah shrieked again, nostrils flaring and pinching as he struggled for air. Tears brimmed out of his eyes, and Viggo snaked out his tongue to lick one away. Hot salt, luscious, metallic and decadent, better than wine. Lijah's hands clenched and released, curling and uncurling; he didn't have long enough fingernails to slice his palms.

Viggo released the pin and reached in to pinch the spot himself, working it and reversing it as Lijah screamed through the gag, short and sharp and piercing each time he rolled his fingertips. He licked the salt off Lijah's chest, off his nipple, off his flat belly and out of his navel. God, but he was gorgeous jerking in the bonds, face suffused with blood, tendons standing out all over his boy-slim body.

Orli would beg for this, Viggo thought, just to have Viggo's hands and tongue on his body-- Orli, even though he didn't like pain, not the way Lijah did, even though he couldn't poise himself on the brink of agony and find ecstasy in it, Orli whose cock shriveled when he was truly hurt, where Elijah's filled and purpled.

He replaced the pin, taking a smaller, tighter pinch. Gleaming tracks traced down Lijah's cheeks and dripped from his chin; his lashes were spiky wet. His cock bobbed, adorned with pins of its own, still hard.

Viggo's hand fairly itched; he wanted a supple rattan rod in it, wanted to slice Elijah's back open and lick up blood like sweat, wanted to see the marks on Elijah in the morning, in a week, in a month, in a year.

He settled for caressing Elijah's ass, dipping his finger between the sweat-slick cheeks, looking at fading love bites he'd left himself. He reached around and cradled Elijah's balls, rolling them, moving the pins; breath whistled through Elijah's nose audibly before he screamed it out again.

He looked over Elijah's shoulder at the faces-- Sir Ian perfectly composed, Sean licking his lips-- even Sean looked impressed, an amazing feat. Many of the men were openly hard, some with hands in their pockets, others stroking the fly of their jeans.

He opened Lij roughly, with three fingers, then added the fourth rapidly; Lij's thighs tensed and quivered. "Little cunt." He licked Lij's throat, then bit the tendon. "I'm going to take off your gag."

Lij hung in the restraints quietly and let him; it fell near Orli's head, making him flinch.

"Don't scream now. Tell me what you want."

"Your hand." Lijah's voice was rusty but audible. "Inside."

Viggo smiled, and curled his thumb under, pushing deeper. Lij was looser than he'd been the first time they did this, more elastic; he took Viggo's hand with only a gasp and a shudder. Viggo turned the frame, confident now, letting them see his hand inside Elijah, and he reached for lube, popping the cap with his thumb, and doused his arm, covering his skin to the elbow, listening to the astonished murmurs as the crowd gauged his intention.

Pretty Elijah, warm and tight and alive. Viggo's cock pulsed; he ignored it and pushed his hand deeper. Elijah moaned and Viggo paused to press against his prostate, turning his hand, rotating it back and forth.

Sean's hand was on his jeans now; his eyes were hot. Viggo glared triumph and hate at him, and pushed deeper till Lijah gasped and jerked. Sir Ian's lips quirked, a wry smile, and Viggo tipped his head at the man, acknowledging him with polite reserve, then shifted his feet and pressed again. He reached to Lijah's chin, tipping it back, baring his throat.

A third of his forearm. Half. Lijah quivering and shuddering around him, clenching violently, involuntary muscles strained beyond capacity.

"Be still, little cunt." Viggo licked Elijah's ear. "More?"

"More..." Harsh and barely coherent.

He pushed, curving his wrist, working his way in. He could see Orli's eyes glittering through his lashes, watching.

More lube on his arm, almost there-- he wanted Lij's flesh around him, wanted to feel it in the crook of his elbow; his whole forearm buried. He looked down, seeing the shape of movement in Elijah's lean belly-- the motion and size of his own arm visible in the shift of skin and flesh as Lijah accommodated him. Lijah was gasping for breath now, terrible whooping gasps, but he did not scream.

"Another inch." He coaxed his way in, going down to his knees, shifting the frame forward at an angle, free hand ratcheting the lever that held it upright.

Sweat dripped from Lijah onto the floor, off nose and chin and toes. "One more," Viggo breathed; Lijah couldn't take much more, he was very tight; there was no room and he was quivering like he'd grasped a high voltage line; he'd tear inside and go into shock in a minute, if Viggo pushed him too hard.

Another curve, and he couldn't contort anymore, but Lijah shifted with a low cry of pain, and there was a slight yielding, opening him a crucial fraction; Viggo slid home and stood frozen, arm half-buried. He reached and unclipped the pins from Lijah's cock, dropping them; one fell on Orli's back and he put his head down quickly.

"Now come for me, little cunt. I want to feel you come."

Lijah sucked air through his teeth as Viggo's hand stripped his cock, the pinches hard little ridges, hot-cold where the pins had bitten and pushed blood out of his skin. He was mewling, past speech, spasming on Viggo's arm; it only took a few strokes before he shot, spattering Orli with come, pulsing and wringing around Viggo's arm, face contorted, only a low whimper in his throat.

Viggo locked eyes with Sean for a long moment as Lijah spent himself, then abandoned his gaze with contempt. He pulled out of Lijah, a very slow, very ginger process-- keeping a wary eye out for blood, not wanting to hurt him, not wanting to shock him by leaving him empty too quickly. Aftershocks shuddered through Lijah, and he couldn't keep silent, a soft sob on the intake of each breath and a whispering moan on the out.

Lijah shuddered like an over-ridden horse, his skin clammy with sweat, and Viggo rubbed his back soothingly with his clean hand. He snatched the towel from Orlando impatiently, wiping off his arm and then, very gently, Elijah, listening carefully for any sound of more than mild distress.

There were only very faint traces of pink on the towel, hardly visible, and Viggo tossed it aside, wrapping his arms around Lij's waist and rubbing a hand low on his belly. "You did very well, little cunt," he crooned, carefully avoiding jarring him more than necessary. "I need you to hold on for just a minute more, all right? Can you do that for me?"

"Yes," hoarsely, hardly more than a whisper.

"You can scream if you need to," Viggo promised, and then quickly he started removing the remaining pins from his balls, letting them fall carelessly to the floor. Elijah jerked in his arms like he'd been struck with a current and his scream was nearly soundless, more like the guttural shriek of a crow, long and low in his throat.

He finished it as rapidly as he could, cupping Lij's newly bared testicles in his palm and simply holding them, feeling the warmth return slowly into the folds of skin. "There, that's finished," he soothed, "You were very brave, my sweet little cunt."

He pulled the release lever slowly, catching Lijah easily as his legs refused to hold him. "Unbuckle him, slut," he said, sharply, and Orli hastily obeyed, guiding Lij's arms down rather than letting them flop uselessly on their own. Orli knelt to unbuckle his ankles and Viggo lifted Lijah easily into his arms. "Stay there," he ordered, and he walked over to a pile of cushions against one of the walls, settling Lijah on them gently.

Petting Lijah's damp hair back from his face, Viggo pressed a gentle kiss against his parted lips. "Just stay here and rest for now," he whispered, too low for the others to hear him. "I'm very proud of you."

Lij sighed deeply, his breathing still shaky as he lay in the curve of Viggo's arms. Large blue eyes opened and met Viggo's trustingly. "Yes, master," he said simply.

Swallowing against the sudden lump in his throat, Viggo pulled slowly away and stood. He backed away rather than turning, studying the lines and angles of Lijah's body, the gleam of sweat still drying on his slim form, and he was halfway across the room before he could tear his eyes away.

Orlando was still kneeling at the base of the frame, watching Viggo through the corner of his eye. Resentment was clearly visible in the tense muscles of his shoulders, the faint pinch of tightness in his lips. His cock was hanging heavily between his legs, nearly purple, the silver rings biting cruelly into the flesh.

A new surge of energy filled him, and he caught the back of Orli's head in a vicious grip, yanking it backwards and pulling him up on his knees until they were nearly nose-to-nose.

"Feeling neglected, slut?" he purred, and crushed Orli's mouth beneath his. The taste of blood filled his mouth like a slice of metal, from Orlando's cut tongue, and he sucked Orli's lower lip into his mouth, nipping carefully to avoid breaking the skin. No marks that makeup can't hide, he reminded himself, the temptation to hurt Orlando almost more than he could resist. To watch his soft eyes fill with tears again, crystalline and beautiful, his breath hitching with sobs.

Not today. He forced his hands to relax, lowering Orli back on his haunches even as he devoured his mouth. Pain mixed with resentment would last beyond today, and he didn't want that, no matter how prettily Orlando suffered. He pulled back, licking Orli's swollen lips.

He pulled back, licking Orli's swollen lips. "Suck me off," Viggo murmured, straightening, and Orli's eyes shone. His hands nimbly released Viggo's dick from his pants again, steadying it with one hand on the base as it slid between his lips. Viggo groaned aloud, uncaring that he would be heard, and caught Orli's head between his hands and thrust, feeling him swallow and gag briefly before he pulled back, allowing him one breath before he shoved in again, fucking the sweet heat of Orli's mouth with relentless force.

“Touch yourself,” he gritted out. “I want to see you come. Do it!” he ordered when Orli seemed to hesitate, wrapping a hand gingerly around his inflamed cock. His whimper vibrated through Viggo's dick and up his spine and he hissed, thrusting sharply.

Orli jerked himself awkwardly with his left hand, his other hand still clasped around Viggo's cock. "So good," he crooned, thrusting blissfully deep and holding, feeling Orli's tongue flutter beneath his cock. Orlando was stroking his own dick harder, glimpses of silver and reddened flesh visible between his fingers. "Faster, do it faster," Viggo growled. "I want to see it, slut."

Orlando was making noises deep in his throat; sounds that spoke of almost desperate pleasure and need, and he was breathing harshly through his nose, his face reddening like he wasn't getting enough oxygen. Another ramming thrust and Orli nearly squealed, eyes watering, but his hands never stilled, his own hips arching as he pushed into the tunnel of his fist.

The first hot pulse spilled over Orli's hand, leaving a long streak to shine wetly on his skin, the second and third falling across Viggo's boot in sharp contrast to the black leather. Viggo watched through narrowed eyes, his own orgasm boiling up from his balls and spilling into Orli's mouth to be swallowed down eagerly, Orlando's sweet whimpers a jarring discord to the throbbing in his cock.

He withdrew with a sigh, petting Orli's head soothingly as he licked his fingers clean without being told. Orli suckled each one elaborately before sinking lower and again lapped Viggo's boot clean, pressing feverish kisses against the leather when he was finished, obviously reluctant to let matters end.

Viggo allowed it for a moment longer, feeling a weak twitch in his balls even now at the sight. Tucking himself back into his pants, Viggo stepped back and finally broke contact. "Enough," he said, but gently.

Orli obeyed instantly, sitting back on his heels, tensed to receive another order. His dark eyes had the bewildered, resigned look of a kicked puppy.

"Up," Viggo murmured, opening his arms, and Orli bounded into them. Viggo wrapped him up, nestling Orli against his body. He tilted Orli's face into reach and kissed him, deep and sweet and slow, tasting come and shoe polish, stroking his back and his sweet ass and damned if his cock wasn't struggling to rise to the occasion again even though there wasn't a shot in hell that it was going to make it.

"So beautiful," Viggo murmured against Orli's lips. "So easy to hurt. And so lovely, hurting."

Orli shivered, and Viggo kissed him again. "If you sucked cock any better, you'd suck my brains out through my dick," Viggo smacked his ass crisply.

Orli brightened like a lifting thundercloud; a cocky grin immediately split his face and Viggo shook his head, unable to resist returning it-- contagious.

"Who do you crawl to?" he asked.

"You."

"Anyone else?"

"No." The truth of it shone in Orli's eyes, radiant.

"On your knees then. Gather the things. Use your teeth, not your hands."

Orli went to his knees instantly, bending to take a clothes pin in his teeth, and Viggo challenged the audience with a flat stare. It had grown-- thirty, maybe forty men, and a dozen or more women, all flushed and predatory. They melted away as he stared, many giving him polite nods and smiles, couples slipping back into the club-- Sean last, looking speculative but remaining silent. Ian tossed Viggo a wink over his shoulder and pulled him away.

Feeling a nudge at his thigh, Viggo looked down-- it was Orli, with his leash in his mouth. Viggo fastened him up tenderly and cupped his cheek in his hand. Orli nuzzled into his hand, licking his palm and kissing it, fawning.

"Stay here," he ordered softly, and went to kneel beside Elijah. He was sound asleep, one hand curled under his chin like a child. "Elijah," Viggo called softly, touching his shoulder, and then shaking him when he didn't stir.

“Elijah, it's time to get up.” A low whining moan was his only reply and Viggo grinned in spite of himself, feeling almost foolishly content. "If you get up we can stop and get a drink before we go," Viggo coaxed, teasing.

"Don't wanna...." Lijah snapped, rolling over and wrapping his arms around himself.

"Fine. Slut, get the bag." He didn't wait to see if Orli obeyed, scooping Lijah up into his arms. He curled around Viggo ingenuously, resting his head against Viggo's shoulder. "I'm going to punish you for this later," he warned, a soft whisper against Lij's ear.

"'Kay," Lij mumbled, yawning and snuggling into Viggo's arms.

Orlando had the bag over one bare shoulder, waiting patiently, and something in his eyes was softer, gazing at Elijah without his earlier resentment. Viggo awkwardly caught his leash in one hand as he walked past him, tugging it lightly and Orlando followed in silent obedience, his eyes once again on the floor.

"We'll get a drink, shower, and leave. You two need something; you're both dehydrated from sweating." Viggo maneuvered them down the stairs, and the crowd cleared the way politely; he responded to a few murmured offers and requests with a curt shake of his head, leaving disappointed patrons behind them.

He found a convenient booth and propped Lijah in the corner on the bench; Lijah blinked at him, heavy-eyed, and smiled. Orli slid into the booth when Viggo gestured, folding his hands demurely on the table.

Viggo laughed. "You're awfully prim for a slut." Orli flushed, but with pleasure, and his lips parted as he looked at Viggo. Viggo shook his head fondly; perhaps he'd underestimated Orli's devotion, but it was not a miscalculation he'd make twice.

Viggo coiled Orli's leash and held it to his lips; Orli took it happily. "I'll be right back."

The bartender nearest to him was a young woman dressed in a leather cat suit, busily pouring drinks and opening bottles of bear. Viggo waited for his turn anxiously, reluctant to leave Elijah and Orli alone for too long, even though they should be technically off limits while they were in the bar area.

When he finally got his three bottles of water, he tipped the bartender generously and she gave him a charming smile, her eyes flicking over him briefly before she returned her attention to the other patrons.

Two familiar figures were standing next to their booth, and Viggo frowned, a sharp burst of temper spurring his steps. "Can I help you gentlemen?” he asked icily, noting with satisfaction that Orlando and Lijah weren't even looking at them, their eyes instead focused on the table.

"Easy, we weren't playing with your toys," Sean said calmly, and Ian nodded politely.

"Indeed, I can assure you we were merely waiting for your return."

"That was quite a show the three of you put on," Sean continued, and he looked down at Lijah with a small smirk. "Thought we'd compliment you."

"Thank you," Viggo said flatly, setting a bottle of water each in front of his pets before opening his own and taking a swallow. "And as you can see, we're somewhat exhausted from it."

Sean ignored his deliberate hint, his eyes still on Elijah, who was completely awake now and drinking his water. "Right," he replied absently, his eyes flicking up to meet Viggo's. "You know, if you'd be interested in a trade of sorts, I'm sure I could teach this one a few tricks that you might not think about." He gestured at Lijah, not quite touching his cheek.

Elijah suddenly turned to look at him, his eyes spitting blue fire, "Not if you had a gold-plated dick," he snarled, his cheeks reddening in fury. His blush deepened as he glanced quickly at Viggo before lowering his eyes to the table again.

Viggo's lips quirked upward in a slight smile. "I'd say that's a 'No, thank you'. That wasn't polite, cunt," he chided, and ruffled Lij's hair lightly. Lijah peeked at him through his lashes, a worried smile curving his lips.

Sean laughed aloud. "I'd say, yeah. What about this one? He's got a sweet mouth on him, doesn't he?" He reached over the table, one hand nearly curled under Orli's chin before Viggo caught it in a hard grip.

"He does," Coldly. "And it's mine. You'll just have keep wondering." Orli flushed brighter than Elijah, practically glowing in his contentment.

"Right," Sean's voice was considerably tighter as he pulled his hand free, shaking it slightly. "Never hurts to ask."

"Strange. It looked to me rather like it did," Ian murmured, unfazed by Sean's sudden glare. “Thank you for the lovely show, he added politely. "We'll leave the three of you to recover from it. Sean?"

Ian nodded at Viggo and walked smoothly away. Sean didn't follow him, holding Viggo's eyes for a moment longer. He bared his teeth in a sharp grin. "Right. See you later then," he tossed over his shoulder, following Ian and vanishing into the crowd.

Viggo watched them go, then took a deep swig of his water, gazing at Orli and Elijah. They both looked tired, fading, and he wanted them where they belonged-- in his bed, resting. "Let's get showered and get the hell out of here," he murmured.

"What about Sean?" Orli asked, looking nervous in the direction he had vanished.

"Sean? He can shut the hell up," Viggo reached a hand out for each of them. "Let's go."

-finis-

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