This is heaven. I'm sitting on the edge of Viggo's bed and he's kneeling on the floor with his hands braced on my thighs as he voraciously sucks my cock. God, that thing he does with his tongue when he traces patterns on the underside of my dick should really be taught to all people who give blowjobs -- it's fantastic! I idly wonder where he learned that trick, but I don't really want to know. I don't want to think about Viggo being with anyone else, just like I'm *his* whore and I wouldn't be anyone else's.
I didn't even have to beg for the blowjob. We finished filming early because Pete wanted to treat the cast to a nice dinner, and Viggo suggested that I come back to his place before going out. I obviously agreed, and he immediately pulled my trousers down and inhaled my cock once we got to the bedroom. So here I am, with that wonderful mouth sucking and licking around me mercilessly, his hands playing with my balls, and a finger every once in a while straying to tease my arsehole. What did I do to deserve *this* treat?
Wait . . . why is Viggo stopping? Hey, get back here, you crazy man! Of course, I know better than to say that. "You want me to finish, don't you?" he asks, his lips still shiny from his exertions.
"Yes," I pant, balling my hands in the sheets to prevent myself from reaching down to just beat myself off and finish the job.
"But I think you need to be taught a very important lesson, Orlando."
"What? Why?" I search my brain for any possible mistakes I could have made recently that would have upset Viggo.
"Two days ago on the set I saw you talking with one of the girls from WETA. Actually, flirting is a better description of what you were doing."
"You mean Tara?"
Viggo raises his eyebrows as he stands up and walks across the room. "I didn't know her name, but yes, I suppose I'm talking about Tara. You were extremely affectionate with her right in front of me; you even gave her a kiss when you left."
"On the cheek, Viggo!" I exclaim. "I don't even like birds anymore! I was only doing it to get a spanking or two!" The truth is that I *was* flirting a bit with the girl from WETA, but it was nothing serious. It was only to get some fun punishment out of Viggo, not to really upset him.
"You wanted to be punished, right?"
"Exactly!"
"Well, you'll be punished, Orli. But not like you think." Viggo opens his toybox and pulls out something I've never seen before.
"Um, what's that?" I shift nervously on the bed.
He walks back to the bed and sits down next to me. "This is a cock ring," he explains calmly. "It goes on the base of your cock and restricts the blood flow. So you'll be hard, but there'll be no way you can come. You're going to wear this during dinner as punishment for misbehaving so blatantly the other day, and *if* you behave yourself, you'll be rewarded afterwards. Do you understand?"
"Yes," I say shakily.
"Good." Viggo fastens the cock ring to my still-throbbing erection, and I immediately whimper at the feeling of being trapped inside the mini-torture chamber. "You can take it," he tells me with a smirk.
"I know," I gasp.
"Now practice walking," he instructs. I stand up and gingerly hobble around the room, slowly adjusting to having my cock in a vise. It's really not an easy thing to do, but after a few minutes I'm starting to grow as comfortable as possible with the concept of walking with a cock ring. Viggo tosses me my baggy jeans and an unopened package of briefs. "This is what you're wearing tonight. Briefs will hopefully help keep your erection hidden."
"Thanks." I *very* carefully put underwear and my jeans on before reaching for the green lace shirt that I bought specifically for this dinner.
"Nice shirt," he teases.
"You know you love it," I shoot back.
Viggo laughs and grabs his car keys, tossing me my own pair. "Let's go to dinner, Orlando."
*****
"Orli, what *is* that shirt?" Billy hoots as I arrive at the restaurant. "A doily gone wrong?"
"Even blind people know that it's ugly," Elijah snickers.
"A demented grandmother made it," Dom adds.
"Yeah, *Orli's* demented grandmother," Elijah laughs.
"Oh shut up, the lot of you," I snap.
"Jeez, we were just fucking around," Elijah says, managing as always to look like a kicked puppy.
"Sorry, Lijah," I say tiredly. "I'm just a little short-tempered tonight." Yeah, that's one way to put it. Another way to put it is that I have a bloody ring around my cock and I was *this* close to getting off just thirty minutes ago.
Right at that moment, Viggo glides into the restaurant, cool, calm, and collected, wearing jeans and a button-down shirt. That only makes the cock ring feel even tighter. He looks over at me and gives me a tiny smile, his eyes flicking down to linger on my crotch just long enough so that I notice but no one else does. My cheeks flush crimson and my cock automatically hardens more. He is such a bastard sometimes, and I wouldn't change him one bit.
Everybody finally arrives, and the waiter shows us all to a private room at the back of the restaurant. Pretty much the entire cast has gathered -- the four hobbits, myself, Viggo, Bean, Ian, John, Liv, Hugo, Cate, and Christopher are all here, plus Peter, Fran, and Philippa. I definitely can't sit next to Viggo, since that would be absolute torture for my cock, so I decide to sit between my fellow elves, Hugo and Liv. Funny, intelligent Hugo, and sweet Liv.
"How are you tonight, Orli?" Liv asks.
"I'm doing okay, Princess," I lie. "And you?"
"Well, I had to find someone else to chauffeur me here, but other than that, I'm okay," she teases.
"Sorry," I apologize. "Um, a friend needed me." That's certainly one way to put it. Another is that I was getting an unfinished blowjob from Viggo.
"And how are you tonight, Viggo?" Hugo asks. Viggo? Oh, shit.
"I'm fine," Viggo says as he sits down across from me. "How are the Rivendell elves doing?" Hugo and Liv assure Viggo that they're having a nice evening, then he looks directly at me. "And how about you, Orlando? How are you faring?"
"Oh, everything's dandy," I tell him as I paste a smile on my face. No one but Viggo seems to see through my false cheeriness, and I'm immensely relieved when a number of random conversations spring up as people start talking to each other. I pretend to look very interested in my menu, refusing to look up at a certain man sitting across from me who will only make my situation worse.
Okay, looking at my menu should *definitely* take my focus off of my undying erection. Eggplant parmigiana looks good, and so does the broccoli rabe. Ooh, baked ziti! I love that dish! But fuck -- ziti is a bit phallic in shape! That wouldn't really help my predicament. And penne pasta is also phallic in shape. So is rigatoni. Man, why did Pete have to pick an Italian restaurant for dinner?
I finally decide on minestrone soup and a Caesar salad, a dinner that's healthy and completely non-phallic in shape. But if I thought the evening was starting to look up, I was wrong. To start, Viggo subtly pitches his voice just a little lower and raspier than usual when he engages in conversation. If anyone notices, well, they probably already think he's nuts so they don't care. But to me, that's his bedroom voice, the one he uses when he's fucking or spanking or doing whatever he wants to me, and my cock throbs even more within its restraints.
Our main courses arrive, and while I'm content with my salad, Viggo has ordered angel hair pasta with plum tomatoes. He's subtly eating his meal as seductively as possible, sucking the strands of pasta into his mouth and then taking the individual tomatoes into his mouth and rolling them around before crushing and swallowing them. Meanwhile, I must look like a horny rabbit as I munch on big lettuce leaves.
And as if that's not bad enough, I nearly let out a yelp when I feel his bare foot (he must have kicked off his shoes under the table) traveling up the inside of my leg. The cocky bastard is playing footsie with me at a cast dinner! Okay, maybe I shouldn't have thought of the word 'cocky', because that automatically made my libido think happy thoughts. His foot slides up my thigh and briefly nudges at my crotch and I glare murderously at him before taking another angry bite of my salad.
Dinner eventually winds down and we reach dessert time. Viggo decides to torture me further by ordering a cappuccino, licking his lips a bit after every sip of the coffee-and-foam drink. God, what I wouldn't give to taste those lips right now. I'm so bloody frustrated; if my napkin were paper, it'd be in a million shreds by this point.
"Are you okay, Orli?"
I look over at Liv. "Huh?" Yeah, I'm a really eloquent guy sometimes.
"You seem a little off tonight," she says with a smile.
"Oh, I'm fine. There's nothing to worry about."
"Really? You look a little . . . stressed."
"I'm fine," I say again, then suddenly realize exactly why she's smiling. My shirt has rode up and is no longer covering the crotch of my jeans; my erection is tenting just enough to be visible to her. Yeah, that's exactly where she's looking. Shit, this is so not good!
"Orli, is this for me?" she whispers as she leans in closer, placing manicured fingers on my thigh. I shake my head no, gently pushing her hand off of my leg. Viggo is looking at us, but no one else seems to be paying attention. "What a nice surprise," she giggles.
"Don't you have a boyfriend?" I hiss, rearranging my shirt. Liv just gives me a coy grin and goes back to her dessert. I grit my teeth in frustration and wonder what else can go wrong tonight.
*****
I pull my car into Viggo's driveway only a minute after he does and immediately hop out of the driver's seat. "Someone's a bit impatient," Viggo chuckles as he unlocks his front door.
"This bloody contraption is driving me mad," I tell him. "And dinner was pure torture."
"That was exactly the point," he smirks.
We walk into the house and Viggo drags me to the bedroom, unceremoniously pushing me down on the bed. He unzips my trousers and pulls them down to my knees, along with the briefs. I take the liberty of pulling my shirt off and look down at my poor, tortured hard-on, then look up at Viggo. "Please," I implore him. "I'm sorry I flirted with that WETA girl."
He looks thoughtful for a moment. "I saw Liv putting a move or two on you tonight."
"Yeah, and I managed to brush her off. I have no interest in her or any other girl or guy, Viggo. Listen, I'm *begging* you -- take this thing off!"
"Well, you *were* very good at dinner," he murmurs, his hand sliding up my thigh. "So I suppose I have to stay true to my word and reward you."
I gasp in relief as he loosens the clip on the cock ring and removes it. "Thank you!" I breathe. It's unbelievable how much better I immediately feel, and I want to simply take my dick in hand and whack myself off for two seconds so the ordeal will finally be over. But I know Viggo has something else in mind.
"Take your clothes off and get on your hands and knees," he orders. I quickly strip completely and position myself how he wants me, wondering what he's planning now. "You were so good at dinner," he coos, running his hand down my back and over my arse. "I think you deserve your reward now."
He yanks open the drawer where he keeps the lube and my breath quickens with anticipation as I hear him spreading it on his fingers. Two fingers enter me roughly, and I push my hips back at him. Damnit, all I need is to come now, nothing more than that; Viggo knows that and purposefully avoids my prostate as he opens me up.
The sound of his jeans being removed makes me smile, and once again I can hear lube being slathered on skin. Strong hands grip my hips, giving me a second to brace myself before Viggo's cock rams into me and makes me shriek from that wonderful mixture of pleasure and pain. That first fiery thrust of his is one of the best sensations I've ever experienced, and it never diminishes no matter how many times we've done this.
After all the time I spent in that diabolical cock ring, it's not surprising that my orgasm is *really* close. So after a grand total of five hard thrusts of Viggo's cock, I come with a yell, feeling my seed coat my belly. This feels like the mother of all orgasms -- it seems to last forever as I'm caught up in this bizarre haze of pleasure that makes me feel like I'm spinning out of control. When I come back to my senses, Viggo realizes that I'm exhausted and pulls out of me, maneuvering me onto my back so I can lie down. "Thanks," I murmur.
"You're welcome," he laughs. He then proceeds to enter me again and resume his relentless fucking. It's only a few minutes before he comes, then immediately pulls out and slides down to lick my freshly-fucked arsehole. The special of the day down there? Viggo's come. He seems to like it, at least if the fact that he spends seemingly half the night snogging my hole is any indication.
My fingers lazily scoop up my own come and I suck it off, grinning as I realize that we can both act whores. Not that I'd ever tell Viggo that he's a bit of a whore; I couldn't even conceive of what punishment I'd merit for *that* offense. Finally, he slithers up so that he's at eye level with me, and he gives me the customary kiss on the forehead.
"So from now on, I promise not to flirt with anyone like I did with that girl from WETA," I vow.
Viggo smiles. "Thank you."
"I really didn't mean to upset you; all I wanted was to coax a good spanking or fucking out of it."
"I guess I can understand that, but I get a little touchy when my whore starts behaving like you did."
"Trust me, Viggo," I say, taking his hands in mine. "I wouldn't want to be anyone else's whore. And I wouldn'd want anyone else to be *your* whore. You really don't have to worry about that." I kiss his cheek. "Now get some sleep, okay? We've got an early call tomorrow."
He chuckles. "Are you telling me what to do?"
"For once, yes. Just relax and go to sleep, Viggo." I climb out of bed and turn off the light. "I'm obviously staying over again tonight. There's nothing to worry about; I made a mistake, I did my penance, and I learned my lesson. The bottom line is that I'm yours, and I couldn't be happier," I tell him as I get back under the blankets.
"Good," Viggo says, and I can tell that he's grinning. "Because
I want you to be mine for as long as possible."
