NEXT PART

May. 30th, 2004 10:35 pm
[identity profile] sadness1986.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] rugbytackle
I'm back, hungover and tired as ever. Great weekend. Last exam was Friday. Here's the promised next part.

TITLE: LIKE A CHILD Part 4
SERIES: Like a child
AUTHOR: Sadness1986
PAIRING: SB/VM, VM/ ?
RATING: NC-17
WARNING: angst, BDSM, rape, non-con
SUMMARY: But late at night, in the growing shadow of Sean's house shielding the full moon, Viggo is back on his doorstep. Barefoot, shy and as frail as moonlight with a silent plea in his shadowed eyes.
DISCLAIMER: It's fiction.
NOTES: #flashbacks#
Please, take the warning serious. THIS is the most perverted stuff I EVER wrote. If you don't like it, don't read it.

TITLE: LIKE A CHILD Part 4
SERIES: Like a child
AUTHOR: Sadness1986
PAIRING: SB/VM, VM/ ?
RATING: NC-17
WARNING: angst, BDSM, rape, non-con
SUMMARY: But late at night, in the growing shadow of Sean's house shielding the full moon, Viggo is back on his doorstep. Barefoot, shy and as frail as moonlight with a silent plea in his shadowed eyes.
DISCLAIMER: It's fiction.
NOTES: #flashbacks#
Please, take the warning serious. THIS is the most perverted stuff I EVER wrote.If you don't like it, don't read it.


Viggo is gone like a fading whisper of smoke, leaving the remembrance of warmth, breath and heartbeat in Sean's bed, when he awakes. Groaning, Sean throws the alarm clock against the wall, clinging to an image, a splinter of a dream, that spreads like the bittersweet pain of longing inside his heart and doesn't dare to open his eyes until it fades, too, untouchable, a curl of smoke in his clenched fist.

Running late, Sean runs into Viggo on his way to the set. They go on silently together.
Sean sees the change in his eyes, sees the dullness of autumn grey, that reminds him of dry, falling leaves, vanishing as Viggo becomes Aragorn, step by step.

They never talk about this, never talk about the night before. They don't talk at all, just about family and art and music and theatre and movies, never about important things, because they are afraid of what they see in each others eyes. So much promises, never kept in the past of their lives.

But late at night, in the growing shadow of Sean's house shielding the full moon, Viggo is back on his doorstep. Barefoot, shy and as frail as moonlight with a silent plea in his shadowed eyes.
He moves slowly, like the ghost of the man he was, limping like a marionette with its strings cut, tiredly, like walking through water.

They sit silently on Sean's couch, listening to the voice of night, to all the little sounds, that are drowned in day's fuss. To the sound of their breathing, their heartbeats, the sound a feet sliding over the carpet, when one of them shifts, the small sounds of creaking furniture.

It was a long, tiring day and none of them spoke a word, they are comfortable in mute agreement. But Sean has problems to keep his eyes open and just vaguely hears Viggo's soft whisper of: "I'll make some tea."

# He's lying face-down on the bed, wrists handcuffed behind his back, fastened to the restraints holding his ankles together, spine forced into a tight bow.
He's even unable to squirm without sending agony through his abused body. Thighs forced apart by his own strained frame, that still refuses to settle into a position like this, leaving him open, vulnerable, eyes becoming wet. "Why?", circles constantly in his head and "How can somebody take pleasure in other's pain?"

HE can, Viggo just recognised too late, that there was more than passion burning in those intense eyes, that those big hands are strong enough to force him into any thing HE wants.
There was sweetness first, flirting, laughing, kisses and touches gentle. But then HE took him on journey through HIS darkest fantasies.
Viggo is scared about the open sight of cruelty in them.

Eyes watering, he tries to find a more comfortable position, but fails.
When HE takes him like this, it always hurts most: his muscles and hamstrings aching, his thighs unable to press together, to close, to hide his vulnerability; his insides tense, making him even tighter, his whole frame unwilling to be penetrated, to have something that hard and big forced inside.

So wrong. Viggo had ever been aware of his bisexuality, he'd been with men before. But it never went further than kisses, maybe handjobs - till he met HIM. HE could coax him into anything, HE wanted. Opened his mouth for anything, HE wished him to swallow. HIS cock, HIS cum and when HE wasn't pleased with Viggo's behaviour even HIS piss.

Then HE would shove himself into his ass, so strange, so wrong, so painful. How could anybody enjoy this? Is it that, what a woman feels? To be taken, forced into submission by being filled mercilessly, selfishly and brutal again and again, just thinking: "Please finish it off, please stop, it hurts, hurts so bad...Please, please..."

The mattress tilts under HIS weight and HIS cool hands run slowly over Viggo's shivering, twisted frame. He can hear his own camera taking pictures of his forced apart thighs and of between them. Never his face. He's reduced to his body.

Then he feels in horror something hard against his entrance and immediately tenses. It's smooth but dry. "Lube, please", he whispers, his voice small in the silence. Whatever it is, it's pressed even harder against him. Defeated he tries to relax, knowing, it would hurt ever more if he doesn't.

Slowly, so slowly. Long burning slide into his ass, his body violated, desperately trying not to tense. Fails, he grits his teeth, feels tears welling up. It's big, too big, even bigger than HE is, so deep inside him, his unprepared body protesting as he feels something tear. It's too much, but even more pressure is added, forcing that thing through any resistance.

Viggo tries again, trembling in pain and fear: "Please, stop..." His voice small and pained, all male raspiness gone, leaving it bare, smooth, boyish.

Finally HE responds: "Shut up and take it, it's just halfway in." Helplessly he whimpered and surrendered.#

Date: 2004-05-31 02:14 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] little---hobbit.livejournal.com
This is incredible. Sad, perverted indeed, but incredible. Please write more.

;)

Date: 2004-05-31 07:40 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jojos-s-v.livejournal.com
*Curled up on the couch with chips just waitting for more...LOL*

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