Fic: Mr Mortensen's House
Title: Mr Mortensen's House
Author: legolas_is_mine
Beta: alliwantisanelf Any remaining mistakes are my own, and are blamed on my computer going kaput and taking my finished/ edited/ ready to post version of this with it, so I've had to do it over in a hurry on a borrowed computer!
Rating: NC17
Warnings: Kink, but they both are enjoying themselves!
Disclaimer: Not true, made up in my brain! Has nothing to do with the real peeps, just borrowing names and faces.
Summary: Orlando and Mr Mortensen reunite after Christmas.
Posted for lotr_advent 2014.
This is a sequel to my previous 2 advent fics, which can be found here and here but you don't need to read them to understand this.
"Orlando, your phone is ringing!" his sister called from the living room. Orlando cursed, since he was elbow deep in washing up and his phone was unlikely to react well to soapy water.
"Can you answer, Sammy?" Orlando called back, "I'll be just a minute."
As he shook off the worst of the bubbles and dried his hands, Orlando heard his phone stop ringing, and his sister speaking to whoever was calling.
"Hello? Yes, this is his phone... He'll just be one minute... Sure, I'll let him know." As Orlando walked into the living room, she put her hand over the mouthpiece and said, "Orli, it's your boss! He sounds kinda scary!"
Orlando flushed. Last time he had seen his boss - a mere two days ago - he had been tied up, tormented with office toys, and exposed completely unclothed to waiters from a classy restaurant. His boxers had been confiscated with the proviso that he could attempt to claim them back in the New Year. It was only Boxing Day and now Mr Mortensen was calling him. Orlando took the phone from his sister with a nod of thanks.
"Hello, Mr Mortensen, Sir," Orlando began, walking out of the living room to find somewhere less crowded with family members to talk.
"Orlando. Good. And Sir will do, for now." Orlando could hear the amusement in his boss's voice.
"Yes, Sir. How can I help, Sir?" Orlando asked, wondering if this was a work related call.
"I hope you don't mind, pet, but I took the small liberty of looking up your number in personnel's records. I was very surprised when the young lady answered the phone. Quite thought I had the wrong number." Orlando could hear the question, although he doubted Mr Mortensen would actually come out and ask who it was if he played dumb.
"That was my sister, Sir," Orlando replied. "Sorry I didn't answer - I was doing the washing up. There’s a lot of it as we were all too full yesterday to be bothered."
"I see. You seem to rather enjoy being full up, pet." Orlando flushed again as the memory of their pre Christmas activities returned.
"Now, the reason for my call, Orlando, was to find out when you are planning to return to London. We have business to attend to, and I should so love to introduce you to my little playroom." Orlando shifted uncomfortably, his cock hardening at the thought of what Mr Mortensen might do to him, given the proper equipment.
"Well, Sir, I usually stay until New Years day, but if it's an emergency I'm sure my mum will understand if I have to leave early." Orlando offered, "I could drive back tomorrow morning; I'd be available by early afternoon, then?"
"I think that would suffice. You'll let me know when you arrive and I'll send a car for you. You might want to bring an overnight bag as well, pet." Mr Mortensen's tone suddenly changed, from vaguely professional to downright predatory. "Tell me, Orlando, are you alone right now?"
"Uhm.., Yes sir, I'm in my bedroom. With the door closed," Orlando said, his voice little more than a whisper.
"Good. In that case, I'd like you to open your trousers and get your penis out." Orlando thought it was the matter of fact way that Mr Mortensen spoke that somehow made his words so shocking, but he scrambled to obey, thumbing open the fly of his well worn jeans and slipping his boxers down enough to pull his cock out over the waistband. The small groan as his fingers closed around the sensitive flesh was enough to let Mr Mortensen know that he had obeyed.
"Good boy. Now, I want you to think about what I'm going to do to you tomorrow night, how I'm going to hurt you, to tease you until you're begging me to take you, and I want you to fuck your hand until you're on the edge of cumming. You're to stop when you get there and tell me, understand?"
"I... Yessir," Orlando managed to say. He could imagine that by the time his boss was done with him, he would be an absolute wreck, and the mere thought of the depraved acts he would be forced to perform made his cock hard enough that he could have come right then with very little effort. However, that was not what he'd been ordered to do, so instead Orlando stroked himself until he knew that the very next touch would send him over the edge.
"I'm there, Sir," he said breathily, "please, can I?"
"No," Mr Mortensen said, and Orlando could hear the finality in his voice. Begging would get him nowhere right now.
"Tell me, Orlando, do you have such a thing as a cock ring at your mother's house?" Mr Mortensen asked.
"Uhm... yes, Sir, at least, I think so. I haven't used it in a while though. Unless Mum found it and threw it out," Orlando said, although if his mother had wanted his room sorted out, she would have probably asked him to drive down for the weekend and do it. Certain things that she had found whilst cleaning when he was in his teens had led her to be very cautious of poking through his drawers.
"That's good. Much easier for you than trying to improvise something, right, pet? I want you to get it and put it on." The amused tone was back in Mr Mortensen's voice, and Orlando realised with a sinking feeling just what he was planning. Nonetheless, he got up from the bed and rummaged through his sock drawer until he found the simple leather strap, which was nestled in one corner along with a pair of evil clamps and a small butt plug - all of them things he hadn't used for years. Snapping the strap around himself with a whimper, Orlando was about to close the drawer when Mr Mortensen asked him a question that he'd hoped would not occur to him.
"So, pet. Do you have any other toys there at your mother's house?"
"Uhm... Just a pair of too tight nipple clamps, and a plug that's so skinny it's hard to keep it in, Sir," Orlando explained, hoping to dissuade his boss from having him use the toys on himself.
"I see... Well, you can leave the clamps where they are, but I do like a boy to be plugged whenever possible, so I think I'd like to listen to you lube that skinny plug with your mouth and then push it into yourself, and you can work on holding it in until tomorrow night. Unless nature calls, of course." Orlando couldn't hold back his sigh, but he did as he was told, thoroughly wetting the rubber before pushing it into his arse, the muscles clamping around it to hold it in place.
"It's in, Sir," Orlando said.
"That's a good boy," Mr Mortensen praised. "As a reward, you get to listen to me come before we say goodbye."
"Oh, thank you, Sir!" Orlando replied. "May I touch myself whilst I listen?"
"You may, but you're not allowed to come until tomorrow night, so I'll leave it up to you whether you want to touch or not. Oh, and you're to take your underwear off before you leave your mother's tomorrow, is that understood?" Orlando could only groan in response. He wasn't sure if it was more torturous to touch himself or not, knowing that he was going to be hard until tomorrow night. Mr Mortensen was apparently feeling quite merciful, because he didn't draw things out, coming quickly and then leaving Orlando to contemplate telling his Mum that he was leaving early. Driving with the plug in place was sure to be interesting, especially without undies. He'd have to wear baggy trousers, preferably jogging bottoms, to hide his arousal.
Tucking himself back in and pulling his T-shirt down as far as he could, Orlando eyed his all too obvious erection with a shake of his head. It would have to be a jumper - a big, baggy jumper would hide everything. Orlando dug through the wardrobe until he found what he was looking for, and then, having pulled it over his head and checked that it did indeed hide what needed to be hidden, he stuck his phone into his back pocket and went to break the news to his Mum.
******
The Next Morning
"Orlando, sweetheart, are you sure you have to go right now? Surely your boss isn't going to make you go into work today. You could at least stay for lunch and go home this afternoon, ready for tomorrow." Orlando's mother had been trying to convince him to stay just a little longer since he had announced last night that he would have to leave in the morning due to an emergency at work.
"I thought you just did the typing anyway," Sam chimed in, earning herself an extremely rude look from Orlando, who shifted uneasily on his chair as the damnable plug threatened to slip out again. He had been mildly amazed to find it still in place when he woke up this morning, but that had been mostly thanks to the pair of slightly too small briefs he had found in a drawer, which had helped immensely. Now though, in a pair of baggy joggers, only his muscles and sheer willpower were preventing supreme embarrassment whilst he argued with his mother and sister.
"Look, all I know is that Mr Mortensen said it was a real emergency, and that they need me there as soon as possible. If I can show that I'm dependable in this type of situation, maybe there'll be a promotion opportunity. You don't want me to miss out, do you?" Orlando asked, figuring that sometimes you just had to play dirty.
"No, I suppose you're right," Orlando's mum, Sonia, gave in with a sigh. "Just don't let them work you into the ground, and make sure they compensate you for missing Christmas at home. We were going to the pantomime tonight, and you'll miss seeing your cousins tomorrow. You know they'll be devastated!"
Orlando sighed. "I'll go and spend the day with them next time I have a week off. They'll never even miss me tomorrow. And you can take Sammy's boyfriend to the pantomime!" This last was pure revenge. That his sister had a boyfriend was not a secret, but she was not at all keen for him to meet their parents, fearing that they would think him unsuitable due to his eccentric way of dressing and sometimes odd ideas.
"Oh, that's a wonderful idea! Samantha, why don't you call him straight away? Six months is quite long enough for you to keep him away from us." With a glare at Orlando, Sammy went to do just that, taking the time to say goodbye to her brother with a punch to the arm on her way out.
Shaking his head at her reaction, Orlando finished his breakfast and then got up, pulling his mother in for a quick hug -but not too close, as he was still hard, the leather strap keeping his erection nicely stiff.
"I'm sorry I have to go, Mum. I'll call you at the weekend, okay?" Orlando said, smiling regretfully at his mother. He felt bad about lying to her, but not so much that he was willing to cancel his plans.
"Alright, son. Don't work too hard now, and try to at least relax a little bit," Sonia replied, walking Orlando to the door and waving as he drove away.
*********
Orlando made good time on his journey home; thankfully the traffic was minimal, once he got past the large shopping centre which was undoubtedly full of people taking advantage of the post Christmas sales. Pulling up outside the house where his flat was situated, Orlando parked the car and went inside.
"Right, shower and shave, and then a quick lunch and pack a bag before you call. You don't want to keep the driver -or worse Mr Mortensen - waiting," Orlando said to himself. Showering and shaving did not take long, nor did making and eating a sandwich, which Orlando did with a towel wrapped around his waist. It was deciding what to wear, and what to bring in the overnight bag, that took time. He didn't want to wear anything too nice, in case it got ripped or cut off him, but he also didn't want to look like a slob.
Finally, he dressed in a pair of quite nice but soft jeans, which clung to his arse but had enough room in the front to accommodate his erection without chafing too much. He chose a plain white t-shirt that showed off his trim physique, but could be easily replaced if destroyed, and with a change of clothes and his toothbrush thrown into a sports bag, Orlando grabbed his phone and dialled, breathing deeply as the line rang in a somewhat futile attempt to calm himself.
“Ahh, pet, I was beginning to think you had changed your mind,” Mr Mortensen said, his tone making Orlando gulp.
“Sorry, Sir,” Orlando stammered. “I wanted to make sure I was ready before I called, that’s all.”
“I see. Well then, since you have called, I take it that you are now ready?” At Orlando’s confirmation, Mr Mortensen continued. “Very well, I will have my driver pick you up. He will be there within half an hour - and as you are ready he will expect you to be waiting outside for him, to avoid any further delays. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Sir,” Orlando responded, his voice heavy with shame at having disappointed Mr Mortensen already.
“Good boy. Oh and pet, there will be some… items… in the car for you. I expect you to use them on your journey. I’m very much looking forward to seeing you.”
“I’m looking forward to it too, Sir,” Orlando said, brightening at the praise.
“I’m glad to hear it. I’ll see you very soon then, pet.” And with that, Mr Mortensen was gone.
In spite of the fact that they had only just finished talking, so certainly the driver could hardly be arriving just yet, Orlando grabbed his jacket and overnight bag and left the flat, trotting down the two flights of stairs to sit on the front wall and wait. Mr Mortensen had said the driver would be there “within half an hour”. That could mean 29 minutes, or it could mean five, and Orlando was determined that he would not be caught out.
In fact, it was twenty five minutes later and Orlando had just started to shiver, when a large black car pulled up. A man wearing a smart uniform wound down the window to peer at him thoughtfully, pursing his lips as he bent his head to check his phone before speaking.
“Orlando?” he asked, and when Orlando nodded in confirmation and stood up, bag in hand, he smiled in a manner that was friendly, but held a definite hint of mischief - Orlando guessed that Mr Mortensen had briefed his driver on the purpose of Orlando’s visit. The man got out of the car, and grabbed a peaked cap from the passenger seat, hiding his dark hair from view, but even the tailored uniform couldn’t hide the muscles and wiry strength in his frame. Orlando guessed that he served as more than a driver for Mr Mortensen.
“You’re to give me your bag and coat, and get into the back. Mr Mortensen has left instructions for you, and he expects them to be followed to the letter,” the man said, with an accent that Orlando couldn’t quite place. It definitely wasn’t English - perhaps Australian or New Zealand, though. He opened the back door for Orlando, and relieved him of his luggage and coat before closing the door behind him, sealing Orlando in behind the blacked out rear windows. Almost out of reflex, Orlando tried the door once he was sat inside, but found it would not open. An interesting use for what was surely designed as a child lock, he pondered.
There was a folded sheet of paper on the seat next to him, and Orlando picked it up, opening it to read the contents.
Pet,
In the bag on the floor, you’ll find some accessories. I want all of them to be on your body by the time you arrive here. The only other thing you should be wearing when I see you is your trousers. You can leave everything else in the car. See you soon.
Sir
Orlando reached down to the floor and picked up the black velvet bag he found there. Tipping out the contents, he found four leather cuffs, a pair of clamps attached together by a heavy looking chain, and lastly an oddly shaped gag that seemed to have a valve in the front.
Working quickly, Orlando removed his shoes and socks, fastening one cuff around each ankle before stripping off his t-shirt and applying the other two cuffs to his wrists. The leather felt wonderfully soft against his skin, and they were obviously very well used.
Next came the gag. Orlando carefully put it into his mouth, the inner portion of the gag extending into both of his cheeks, as well as pushing his tongue down. His teeth rested comfortably on the mid section, and the outer part covered them, but sat inside his lips. Orlando couldn’t recall having come across another gag quite like it, but he did not really have time to sit and think on it right then.
Bracing himself, he picked up the nipple clamps - they were fairly simple looking alligator teeth clamps, with rubber ends to protect the delicate skin from the metal. They appeared to close quite tightly though, and Orlando was sure that they were not an easy option. Teasing his left nipple into hardness, Orlando applied the first clamp, groaning a little as it snapped shut. The second clamp went on just as quickly, the stab of pain making Orlando’s cock jerk inside his trousers, desperate for relief that Orlando knew it was not going to get for some time. Orlando weighed the thick chain in his hands for some moments before taking the plunge and letting it drop, feeling the increased tug as his nipples took the weight.
Now that he was all ready, according to Mr Mortensen’s instructions, there was nothing to do but wait until they arrived.
******
The car stopped moving, and Orlando tried to see where they had pulled up, but the windows were too dark for him to make out anything. After a few moments the car moved again, and then stopped after several minutes. Orlando guessed that they had just gone up Mr Mortensen’s driveway, and he marvelled at the concept of being rich enough to own a property with a long drive near central London.
Once the car stopped for the second time, the door beside Orlando was opened. He got out, blushing a little when the driver appreciatively eyed his bare chest and the rather obvious hard on in his jeans, the grin on his face and glee in his brown eyes speaking volumes. The man said nothing though, merely gesturing for Orlando to follow him up the steps to the front door. Orlando obeyed the unspoken order, wondering how many times this man had made similar deliveries.
Mr Mortensen's driver pulled the door bell, and then patted Orlando on one shoulder, a murmured “Good luck, mate,” were his only words before he re-entered the car, leaving Orlando standing nervously on the doorstep.
Technically, there was nothing to stop him leaving even now. There was nothing he was wearing that he couldn't remove himself, and although he would have to get home barefoot, he still had his wallet and phone in the pocket of his jeans. For a moment Orlando considered bolting, but then he calmed, remembering Mr Mortensen's previous words to him - he wanted Orlando to enjoy what they did as much as he did himself. This was not some seedy stranger. It was Orlando’s boss, and he wouldn't do anything that Orlando didn’t want him to.
The door opened, and Orlando, who had been half expecting a housekeeper or some other servant to answer the door, was gratified to see Mr Mortensen within. The other man looked Orlando up and down appraisingly, and when he twirled one finger round without a word, Orlando was ready and turned obediently, bending forward just a little so that the base of the plug pressed against the back of his jeans. When he faced front again, Orlando peeked up at Mr Mortensen from underneath his curls before dropping his eyes to the floor in a more traditional posture.
“Good boy. I see that you've obeyed well. Come inside, then, and we’ll have a chat before we get started." So saying, Mr Mortensen took a moment to caress Orlando’s hair before moving out the way to allow him entrance into the house. Orlando walked inside and then stopped, unable to stop himself from looking around, slightly awed at the beautiful house he found himself in.
“Do you like what you see, pet?” Mr Mortensen asked, clearly amused by Orlando’s expression. “I’ll show you round properly, later on. Just now though, we’re going into the sitting room.” He gestured as he spoke, and Orlando went ahead down a small hall and into a luxurious sitting room, where a fire blazed merrily away, sending warming heat throughout the room.
Mr Mortensen seated himself in a comfortable looking armchair near the fire, and then smiled at Orlando, who was standing awkwardly, not quite sure what he should be doing. Given the relationship they had, he wouldn’t dare take the liberty of sitting in one of the chairs without permission, but he felt faintly stupid just standing here.
“First thing’s first - take your trousers off, pet, and then you can come and kneel at my feet whilst we talk,” Mr Mortensen ordered after allowing the awkward silence to stretch for close to a minute. Just long enough to really make Orlando squirm. Orlando did as he was bid, first opening his fly to reveal his poor engorged cock, and then pushing the trousers down and stepping out of them. Mr Mortensen was given a wonderful view of his backside, the end of the plug nestled between his cheeks, as Orlando bent to pick up his jeans before folding them and placing them neatly on the floor where they would be out of the way.
Having done so, Orlando walked over to the chair where Mr Mortensen sat. He dropped to his knees on the wooden floor, letting his hands fall on top of his thighs and looking down at the floor, although his eyes peeked upwards.
“Good boy, now, open wide for me. I’m going to remove your gag for just a little while, although I’ll be putting it back in soon - I do love the way it looks, peeking out from between your lips, and you haven’t even seen the best thing about it yet.” So saying, Mr Mortensen carefully extracted the gag from Orlando’s mouth, laying it on a handy table. “Good. Now, just to check, can you remind me of your safe word, please?”
“It’s Canterbury, Sir,” Orlando said, running his tongue over his teeth and stretching his lips a little.
“Good. And for when you’re gagged, do you have a signal? If not, we should set one now.” Mr Mortensen knew that he was planning to push Orlando tonight, to see if the connection that he’d felt in his office was real, and if Orlando was interested in a longer term relationship. He’d far rather call a scene to a halt than go further than the boy was ready for. Trust was important in any relationship, but never more so than this type.
“Uhm… I don’t think I’ve ever used one, Sir,” Orlando said, tilting his head to one side as he thought back over his previous encounters. Usually when he’d been gagged before, it was just because he had a tendency to scream when fucked hard, and it wasn’t always convenient to be overheard. He had never needed a “stop” signal before.
“Well, hopefully you won’t have to tonight, pet, but if something is too much, I want to know right away - even if you just want me to slow down a little, or take a break - safewording, for me, anyway, means “stop now, I need to talk to you”. Of course, it can mean stop altogether, but that tends to be covered in the talking. I don’t want you to be afraid to tell me you’ve had enough, okay, Orlando?”
Orlando nodded. This was clearly something that Mr Mortensen felt very strongly about, and it made sense, really. Stopping to talk about things was much more sensible than the meaning his previous partner’s had assigned to the safeword - which was you can say it, but if you do, you’re going home. He thought about a good signal, and when he’d come up with something that he thought would work, suggested it thoughtfully.
“How about if I do this?” he asked, raising his left hand, fingers parted between the middle and ring finger a la Mr Spock. “I’m not likely to do it by accident, after all.” Mr Mortensen laughed.
“No, I suppose you’re not. That seems like a reasonable signal. If I decide to tie your hands down whilst you’re gagged, that should still work - but I’ll also give you something to hold so if you need a break, you’ll drop it. Is that all clear and understood?”
“Yes, Sir,” Orlando replied. It felt good to know that his safety was being so thoroughly considered.
“Good. Now, regarding our activities this afternoon, I’ve got some fairly elaborate equipment, but I thought we’d keep it reasonably simple to start off with - a nice spanking to get you warmed up. Some more interesting accessories than those you’re currently sporting, and then a face fucking. From there, we’ll just see how we go. How does that sound to you, pet?”
Orlando was sure that it must be obvious what he thought of the idea - his cock seemed harder than ever, his whole body seemed to be blushing, and his breath had hitched several times when he tried, unsuccessfully, to bite back moans.
“It sounds great, Sir,” he managed to say, actually whimpering a little when Mr Mortensen’s hand touched the top of his head, stroking his curls in a rather possessive manner that made Orlando thrill, just a little.
“Excellent,” Mr Mortensen said, a thoroughly evil smile on his face. He picked up the gag that he had removed before and quirked his eyebrows at Orlando, smiling when the other man took the hint and opened his mouth wide to receive the gag. “Now I can show you the fun part of this little gag, which incidentally, is also why it doesn’t need a strap to hold it in place. Keep still now.”
As he spoke, Mr Mortensen reached into the pocket of the smart jacket he was wearing and withdrew what looked like a hand pump. Affixing it to what was apparently a valve in the front of the gag, he pumped a few times. Orlando squeaked as he felt the rubber in his mouth growing, but the sound was muffled, even to his own ears.
“How’s that feeling? Still comfy?” Mr Mortensen asked. “Can you move it at all?”
Orlando tried, finding that he could push the front of the gag forward a little way. Mr Mortensen frowned, and worked the pump several more times.
“Now?” Orlando found that he could now not get any purchase to shift the suddenly huge invader from his mouth. His tongue was held completely flat on the floor of his mouth, his cheeks bulging outwards. Strangely though, it was very comfortable; unlike more traditional gags, there were no straps pulling at the side of his lips, and because it expanded mostly into his cheeks, there was nothing hitting the back of his throat or blocking his airway, although of course he would be unable to breathe if his nose were blocked.
Mr Mortensen eyed Orlando thoughtfully, and then pumped twice more for good measure, smiling at the tiny noise that was all Orlando could now manage, before removing the pump from the front of the gag and stowing it back in his pocket. He would need it later on to release the air from the gag before Orlando could take it out.
“Come now, pet. You can follow me to the playroom on your hands and knees, and we’ll get started for real.” With that, Mr Mortensen turned and walked from the room, leaving Orlando to crawl after him.
As Orlando dropped forward to follow Mr Mortensen, the chain linking his clamps suddenly made itself known, the weight now hanging straight down, making Orlando squeak - just about the only noise he could currently make.
Mr Mortensen walked fairly slowly, giving Orlando a good chance to keep up with him, but not allowing him to dawdle by any means. Thankfully the playroom was not too far away, behind a door hidden in a bookshelf in the study. Once they were inside, Mr Mortensen pushed the door shut, and Orlando gulped as he saw the beautifully and extensively equipped room for the first time.
One wall was covered in glass fronted cabinets, through which Orlando could see various accessories and implements - some of which he was sure would be demonstrated on his person in the near future. There was also a leather covered spanking bench that looked just the right height to brace himself over for either a spanking or a good hard fuck, and plenty solid enough to stay in place for either.
There was also a large, sumptuous looking bed, and Orlando’s sharp eyes noted various hooks and loops in convenient places for restraining a person comfortably - or less so, if that was what was wanted.
There were also a number of items that Orlando had no idea what purpose they might serve. Mr Mortensen evidently had a wealth of experience, and Orlando was definitely looking forward to seeing what would be on offer tonight. Based on his previous words, he wasn’t planning on using any of the more exotic objects tonight anyway, so Orlando would have to hope for an invite back to find out what they were for.
“Orlando, I want you to brace yourself over the spanking bench for me,” Mr Mortensen asked - well, ordered really, adding, “I’m not going to restrain you just at the moment. I’m sure you can hold still for me.”
Orlando nodded and moved quickly to the aforementioned bench, bending over it and leaning forward with his legs spread so that his backside was sticking up, inviting Mr Mortensen to use him as he would.
Orlando heard Mr Mortensen moving around behind him, and the sound of glass doors opening and closing. It took a lot of effort to resist the urge to turn his head and look, but he was rewarded with a pat and another murmured “good boy” when Mr Mortensen finished picking out whatever was being chosen. Orlando was a little taken aback to realise that he was fast becoming addicted to hearing his boss call him “pet” and “good boy” - he decided not to examine this too deeply just yet. Better to simply go with the flow. There was nothing to be gained from getting his hopes up if it turned out that Mr Mortensen just wanted a bit of holiday fun and nothing more. Orlando mentally crossed his fingers that this would not turn out to be the case.
Mr Mortensen moved back towards Orlando, placing several objects down outside of Orlando’s field of vision.
“Now, pet, first of all I’m going to take that little plug out of your arse, and replace it with something a little more... substantial, and a bit more seasonal. Should be a little easier for you to keep in place whilst I’m working on you.” Mr Mortensen’s tone was utterly conversational and unaffected, even as his hand caressed one of Orlando’s cheeks before pulling the slender plug from its resting place, tutting at the way Orlando’s hole twitched as the plug was removed.
“Goodness me, that is very small!” Mr Mortensen remarked. “That must have been a terrible struggle for you to hold in place.” As he spoke, Mr Mortensen twisted two of his fingers into Orlando, not stretching him really, just assessing how open he was. Assessment made, Mr Mortensen removed his fingers, and Orlando heard the cap being flipped from a bottle of lube before the fingers were back, this time with a third one added, spreading the slippery liquid inside him before disappearing again, to be replaced by what was definitely a larger plug than the one Orlando had been wearing. This new toy made soft jingling noises as Mr Mortensen moved it into position.
“Let’s see if you can take it with a single push. I don’t think there should be a problem, pet. It’s not one of my larger plugs, just something nice and solid. It should feel nice and comfy once it’s in place.” Orlando nodded his understanding, bracing himself on his elbows so that once Mr Mortensen started pushing, he remained still whilst the plug pushed slowly but inexorably inside of him. Orlando felt himself being stretched around the bulk of the plug, which was, as promised, not exactly giant but was definitely larger than what had been removed. Once the plug was securely in place, Mr Mortensen stepped back, surveying Orlando. The small bundle of bells, which were held in place underneath the plug by means of red and green ribbons, made for an interesting sight. Orlando would certainly be aware of them whilst he was being spanked, and especially when he had to move, as their soft chimes would remind him of their presence throughout the evening.
“I’m going to spank you now, pet. I’ll start with my hand to warm you up, and then I have a nice paddle for you. You know what to do if you need me to stop?” Orlando nodded, lifting one hand in demonstration. “Good boy.” With that, Mr Mortensen stepped to one side, and Orlando took a deep breath, readying himself for the first strike.
Mr Mortensen raised his hand, stopping for a moment to observe the delectable sight laid out before him. The vision Orlando presented, splayed out for Mr Mortensen's pleasure, was enough to make him hard with no other stimulation. The boy’s willing, even eager submission would have been an enormous turn on by itself. His beautiful face and slim figure were a nice bonus indeed.
Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Mr Mortensen brought his hand down on Orlando’s backside - a fairly hard strike, though definitely not the hardest he could give. Orlando squeaked through his gag, and Mr Mortensen looked thoughtfully at the handprint he had left before striking out again and again and again, leaving a trail of red marks wherever he struck. Orlando shifted his arse, inviting the slaps as they became harder with each blow.
By the time Mr Mortensen stopped for a few moments to grab a simple wooden paddle, Orlando’s arse was on fire. There were a few tears rolling down his face - Mr Mortensen could hit hard even with just his hand once he got going. Orlando could hardly wait to see how he would swing the paddle. He reflected happily, in the few moments pause, that he was unlikely to sit comfortably for a week or two.
“Are you alright there, pet?” Mr Mortensen asked, waiting for Orlando’s somewhat shaky nod before patting him comfortingly and then drawing back and spanking him soundly with the paddle. Orlando couldn’t help tensing into the blow, and his breath hitched as Mr Mortensen layered his backside with paddle-strikes. After twenty or so, Orlando found that tears were falling freely down his face, and his cock was harder than ever within its bonds. He didn’t know why he got off on this, but the pain and the “helplessness” combined to bring his arousal to a level he could hardly bear.
Suddenly, Orlando found himself struggling to breathe. The constant flow of tears had caused his nose to block, and with the gag in his mouth he just couldn’t quite catch his breath. Orlando tried to calm himself, but then gave in to the inevitable and raised his hand, and his head, which had been hanging down as he surrendered to the pain/ pleasure of the paddling.
Mr Mortensen’s reaction was instant. He dropped the paddle to the floor and was helped Orlando up, the pump for the gag pulled from his pocket and attached to deflate it before it was pulled out of Orlando’s mouth, allowing the free flow of air once again.
“What’s the matter, pet?” Mr Mortensen asked worriedly, pulling Orlando’s body against his own and supporting the other man as he stood on shaky legs.
“‘m okay, thank you, Sir. I couldn’t breathe for a second there… my nose...” Orlando gasped, leaning into Mr Mortensen’s embrace and breathing in deeply through his mouth, taking pleasure in his restored ability.
“You’re alright now though, pet?” Mr Mortensen checked. “We can continue the spanking without the gag, if you’re happy to do so. If you want to take a break, that’s fine, too.” He knew that some boys, and some Sirs as well, had an almost pathological dislike of actually using a safeword. He felt somewhat differently about the whole issue - part of the whole voluntary surrendering of power deal was the ability to take back that power at any time and for any reason. Even if you just wanted to be out of restraints for five minutes to use the bathroom, that was fine by him. So it was up to Orlando whether he wanted to continue with the spanking; if not, he was sure he could find another way to amuse them both.
“I’d like to keep going please, Sir,” Orlando replied, using his wrist to clear the tears from his face. “I’ll try my best to keep quiet if you don’t gag me.”
“Nonsense, pet, of course I’m not going to gag you right now - I’m sure you’ll be crying again before we’re done and I can’t have you suffocating on me, that’s not on my list of fun things at all! You can scream however loudly you need to - the only people who’ll hear are my driver and cook and it won’t bother them one bit - they’ve heard a lot worse than a few shrieks,” Mr Mortensen said, ruffling Orlando’s hair fondly as he braced his body once more over the spanking bench, letting his head fall forwards as Mr Mortensen resumed.
“Nearly there now, Orlando,” Mr Mortensen said, forty or so blows later. Orlando’s backside was by this time beginning to bruise quite nicely, as were the tops of his thighs. “Just another five to round out the hundred and we’re all done.”
“Yes Sir, thank you, Sir,” Orlando whimpered. His throat had become hoarse with yelling and he was by now clinging onto the bench to hold himself up. His cock was just as hard as ever - Orlando wondered briefly if he would be allowed to come that night. After all, it seemed that Mr Mortensen planned for him to stay over, so there was no guarantee. This thought was soon knocked out of his head by the last five spanks, after which Orlando allowed himself to collapse just a little more into the bench, his whole chest now resting on the soft leather, rightly assuming that Mr Mortensen would help him up once he was ready to do so.
Mr Mortensen placed the paddle down on the small table next to the spanking bench and shook his wrist out before moving forward to where Orlando half stood and half lay across it. He couldn’t resist patting the other man’s arse, smirking when Orlando yelped.
“You did wonderfully, pet. I’m very pleased with you,” Mr Mortensen said, his tone soft and reassuring. “How are you feeling?”
“I don’t think I’ll sit comfortably for a couple of weeks, Sir, and my legs are pretty shaky, but I’m okay, thank you, Sir,” Orlando replied, his voice a little hoarse from the screaming he had recently been doing.
“Do you think you can stand up for me?” Mr Mortensen asked, leaning forward to help Orlando. Orlando nodded, allowing himself to be lifted, and when he was upright, leaning into the support and comfort offered by the other man’s body.
“Good. Good boy,” Mr Mortensen murmured, his hand dropping down to pull Orlando closer, and incidentally to pinch his bruised flesh and provoke another delicious squeal from him, along with a cheerful jingle from the bells attached to his backside. Orlando started at the pinch, becoming painfully aware of his erection once again. The combination of the pain, the surrender, and the proximity of Mr Mortensen were combining to make his cock leak copious amounts of precum.
“Hmmm… I think we’ll have to take care of that soon, won’t we, pet?” Mr Mortensen felt Orlando’s erection pressing against the fabric of the soft but smart trousers he wore. “But first, I’d like you to remind me how good your mouth feels around my cock, if you don’t mind.” It was an order, really, and Orlando knew it. After a moment, he shifted away from Mr Mortensen to drop to his knees and begin.
“Wait one second, pet,” Mr Mortensen stopped Orlando with a touch to the elbow. Reaching to the table where he had placed the paddle a short while before, he picked up a length of chain and several small weights.
“Put your hands behind your back please, Orlando,” Mr Mortensen ordered.
“Yes Sir,” Orlando replied, turning to present his hands. Mr Mortensen attached one end of the chain to each of the cuffs which Orlando was already wearing. Orlando pulled his hands apart, not trying to release himself, but simply testing the reach of the chain.
“Good boy. Turn back now so that I can add these weights to your nipple chain,” Mr Mortensen said, his voice once again annoyingly calm. Orlando did as he was bid, breathing deeply as the three weights were hooked onto the chain, adding to the pull on his already abused nipples. “Excellent. You’re doing very well, Orlando. Now, onto your knees.”
“Thank you, Sir, Yes Sir,” Orlando said, unable to resist licking his lips at the thought of tasting Mr Mortensen’s cock once again.
Orlando dropped gracefully to his knees, and then looked up at Mr Mortensen, unsure if he should be using his mouth to open his trousers or if Mr Mortensen was planning to get himself out ready. After a long moment of silence, Orlando decided that the sensible thing to do was ask.
"Please, Sir, shall I undo your trousers for you?" Orlando asked, tilting his head to the side and clenching around the plug still buried in his arse, enjoying the sensation as his movement nudged it against his prostate.
"Not this time, Orlando. As you've been such a good boy, I'm going to take mercy on you and undo them," Mr Mortensen replied, suiting action to word and flicking open the buttons of his fly, revealing his lack of underwear beneath. Freeing his erection from the fabric, he smiled at Orlando. "There, all ready for you. Go ahead when you’re ready, pet."
Orlando couldn't help returning the smile before licking his lips once again and then shifting forwards. He began by licking the very tip of Mr Mortensen's cock, savouring the taste of the fluid leaking from it. Orlando then began to work in earnest, slowly making his way down the length with just his tongue, before opening his mouth and taking the head inside.
Orlando could hear the bells hanging from his backside tingling gently as he shifted forwards to take more of Mr Mortensen's cock inside his mouth. He hummed around it, enjoying the hitch in Mr Mortensen's breath as Orlando stimulated him further.
With Orlando’s talented mouth working him, it did not take long for Mr Mortensen to near his peak. As he felt his orgasm draw near, Mr Mortensen grabbed Orlando’s curls, fucking his face hard until he spilled his seed down Orlando's throat with a shout.
Orlando used his tongue to gently clean Mr Mortensen’s softening cock before pulling back to sit on his knees.
“That was very well done, thank you, pet.” Mr Mortensen smiled down at Orlando. “Now, your poor penis is looking rather red and swollen. I think we ought to do something about that, don’t you?”
“Yes please, Sir,” Orlando begged, fluttering his eyelashes just a little.
“Hmm, let’s have you sat on the spanking bench, I think,” Mr Mortensen ordered, helping Orlando to his feet - it wasn’t easy getting up without using your hands to balance - and smirking when Orlando hissed as his abused backside settled on the leather of the spanking bench.
Mr Mortensen placed one hand on Orlando's thigh and took his cock in the other, squeezing just a little before he began to stroke it teasingly, his grip annoyingly gentle. Orlando couldn't stop himself from whimpering in frustration as his hips bucked upwards of their own accord, seeking more contact.
"P... Please, Sir," Orlando begged, desperate to come but needing more before he could.
"Please what, pet?" Mr Mortensen asked. "Would you like me to stop?"
"N...n... No, Sir, please don't stop. More, please. Want to come - I'm so hard for you. Please let me come!" Orlando was aware that he was being somewhat shameless right now, but really, he could care less.
Mr Mortensen smirked, tightening his grip just a smidgen, and moving his other hand from Orlando’s leg to tweak the clamps on Orlando’s nipples, his grin widening when Orlando squealed.
“Have you ever thought about having your nipples pierced, Orlando?” Mr Mortensen asked, as though the thought had just occurred to him. “Lots of fun things we could do with nipple rings.”
“N.. no, Sir,” Orlando managed to say, although it was obviously an effort for him to get the words out.
“Well, maybe something to consider sometime. It would make them even more sensitive than they are already. I’m going to take the clamps off now, pet. You can come whenever you’re ready - and feel free to scream if you need to.” Mr Mortensen suited action to word, removing both clamps quickly and dropping them onto the table nearby before moving his free hand to pull Orlando close and kiss him thoroughly, all the while his other hand kept stroking.
Orlando wailed into the kiss, the pain from his nipples adding to the exquisite sensation of Mr Mortensen’s hand around his cock and tongue in his mouth to send him over the edge. Orlando was still howling when Mr Mortensen released him. The other man removed the leather strap from Orlando’s cock, murmuring comforting nonsense until Orlando calmed.
“Good boy. Now, clean my hand up please,” Mr Mortensen ordered, holding his hand, which was covered with Orlando’s come, up to the boy’s mouth. Orlando licked it clean, idly noticing that his own seed tasted rather different than Mr Mortensen’s.
Orlando’s legs still felt somewhat like jelly as Mr Mortensen helped him down from the spanking bench. He couldn’t help but smile when he was pulled into the other man’s arms and just held for a few moments.
“You’ve done very well, pet. I’m very pleased with you,” Mr Mortensen said, pressing a kiss to the top of Orlando’s head.
“Thank you, Sir,” Orlando replied.
“Now, I thought we might take a break and perhaps watch a film and have something to eat, and then come back and have some more fun before bed. How does that sound to you, Orlando?”
“That sounds great!” Orlando enthused. He was really enjoying their play, but a bit of downtime would be good as well, allowing both of them to get some energy back, ready for later.
“Good. Come this way, then.” Mr Mortensen gestured for Orlando to go in front, enjoying the view of his bruised backside with the plug still nestled inside, bells chiming merrily as he obeyed. Orlando’s hands were still chained behind his back, and on a whim, Mr Mortensen grabbed the chain, pulling Orlando to a stop.
“Wait just a moment, pet, I’ve had a thought,” Mr Mortensen smiled reassuringly, leaving Orlando to wait whilst he went back to the cabinet and brought out a second length of chain, which he fastened between Orlando’s ankles. The chain wasn’t short enough to present any real problem for walking, but it served as one more reminder of his position here.
The first few steps after having his ankles chained, Orlando walked a little awkwardly, the weight of the chain meaning he needed to use a little more force than he was used to when lifting his feet. By the time they reached their destination, though, he had become used to the feeling and was walking almost normally. This sitting room was completely different to the one he had seen earlier. It featured an enormous television and an array of comfortable seats. Orlando looked around, wondering where he should sit. He wasn’t sure that he would be able to kneel for a couple of hours, but he didn’t want to mess up any of the chairs by sitting his bare bottom on it - not to mention that to assume he had permission to sit on a chair could be considered a liberty, for a boy.
Luckily, Mr Mortensen was prepared and, after throwing a blanket over the seats, invited Orlando to curl up next to him on a large sofa. Orlando did so, resting his head on Mr Mortensen’s chest and cuddling in when an arm reached around him and settled on his hip.
“Before we put the film on, pet, I wanted to talk to you about the future,” Mr Mortensen said, his tone of voice making Orlando look up at him worriedly.
“Okay,” Orlando replied, biting his lip and hoping that he wasn’t about to be fired. He hoped not - after all, the day was going great, but Mr Mortensen sounded so serious.
“You and I seem to be pretty compatible, at least so far,” Mr Mortensen began. “It’s been a long time since I had more than a casual relationship, but if you’re amenable to it, I’d very much like for you to be mine.”
“What exactly do you mean?” Orlando asked. Mine could mean a lot of things, and it was best to be clear before agreeing to anything.
“I mean I’d like to spend more time with you. We’d agree on a trial period, and a list of things you are and aren’t happy to do, and then you’d come over at the agreed times - maybe one or two evenings after work, and some weekends. I suppose it’s a bit like dating, only we wouldn’t leave the house that much,” Mr Mortensen explained. He wasn’t looking for a full time boy, at least initially, and certainly wasn’t expecting Orlando to just drop everything and move in with him at the drop of a hat.
“That sounds… great, actually, Sir,” Orlando said, smiling. “What about work? I mean…”
“Work is work, pet. We couldn’t be open about things there - I’d be accused of favouritism, and you of trying to sleep your way to the top, but I’m sure I can make your days more interesting for you,” Mr Mortensen said with a grin that made Orlando whimper. He was quite sure that there was a lot that his boss could do to him that would liven up his days.
“Then yes… I’d like to be yours, please, Sir,” Orlando said, his smile threatening to break his face in half.
“Good. Tomorrow morning we can sit down and go through your list, and decide how long we want to start with. Of course, there’s no actual time limit - as long as we’re both enjoying ourselves, we can keep going.”
“Uhm… I have a question?” Orlando asked, wishing his hands were free so that he could bite his finger - this being a nervous habit of his.
“Go ahead.”
“What should I call you? Should it just be Sir all the time?”
“That’s a good question, pet. When we’re actually in a scene then you should address me as Sir, but times like this, or if we are out and about, then you can call me by my first name,” Mr Mortensen - Viggo - replied.
“Okay. Thank you, Viggo,” Orlando said, trying out the new permission, just to see how the word felt in his mouth.
“Now, onto more serious matters. What film would you like to watch? I thought maybe something Christmassy, and maybe some hot chocolate to drink whilst we watch.”
“That sounds great,” Orlando said, beaming. “How about “Elf”, or “The Santa Clause”? Those are my favourite Christmas films.”
“Then “Elf” it is - I’ve never heard of the other, so I assume I don’t have it,” Viggo replied. “Sit up for a second whilst I arrange the drinks and put the film on. Most of my staff are off with their families for Christmas, but luckily Liv and Karl were both happy to stay. That’s my cook and my driver, who I believe you’ve already met.” Orlando nodded, blushing just a little at the memory. He sat up, with Viggo’s assistance, and waited obediently, looking idly around the room and wondering why Viggo needed such a big house when he seemed to live alone. Orlando had just decided that this was a question for another day when Viggo walked back in holding a DVD case. He was followed by a young lady who Orlando guessed must be Liv. She held a tray with two steaming mugs and a bowl of popcorn on it.
“I’ll just pop these on the table for you,” Liv said to Viggo. She had raised her eyebrows when she saw Orlando sat, naked and restrained, on the sofa, but did not otherwise acknowledge him.
“Thank you, Liv. Oh, I forgot to ask, do we have any straws? I think Orlando’s going to have a bit of trouble if not,” Viggo asked. Orlando wondered if it was considered normal in this house for people to be nude. No one but him seemed to find it strange in the slightest.
“I think we have some left over from when the children last visited, sir. I’ll just fetch him one.” Liv winked at Orlando, who had quickly realised that there was nothing to be gained from trying to cover himself. Much less embarrassing to just sit still and accept his fate!
Viggo finished fiddling with the DVD player and came back to sit with Orlando, coaxing the other man to lean against him once more. Orlando was happy to do so - the room was warm, but somehow cuddling into Viggo’s side was much more satisfying. Viggo waited until Liv had brought the straw for Orlando’s drink, and then thanked her and dismissed her until dinner.
He started the film, and then pulled Orlando closer, reaching down to give a gentle push to the plug that Orlando still wore, reminding him who was in charge. Orlando guessed that there was more fun planned for later on, and probably in the morning as well - altogether this was turning out to be much more entertaining than the pantomime.
***FINIS***
A/N: I'd love to continue this in the future. My muses are kinda lazy though so... maybe next advent ;)
Author: legolas_is_mine
Beta: alliwantisanelf Any remaining mistakes are my own, and are blamed on my computer going kaput and taking my finished/ edited/ ready to post version of this with it, so I've had to do it over in a hurry on a borrowed computer!
Rating: NC17
Warnings: Kink, but they both are enjoying themselves!
Disclaimer: Not true, made up in my brain! Has nothing to do with the real peeps, just borrowing names and faces.
Summary: Orlando and Mr Mortensen reunite after Christmas.
Posted for lotr_advent 2014.
This is a sequel to my previous 2 advent fics, which can be found here and here but you don't need to read them to understand this.
"Orlando, your phone is ringing!" his sister called from the living room. Orlando cursed, since he was elbow deep in washing up and his phone was unlikely to react well to soapy water.
"Can you answer, Sammy?" Orlando called back, "I'll be just a minute."
As he shook off the worst of the bubbles and dried his hands, Orlando heard his phone stop ringing, and his sister speaking to whoever was calling.
"Hello? Yes, this is his phone... He'll just be one minute... Sure, I'll let him know." As Orlando walked into the living room, she put her hand over the mouthpiece and said, "Orli, it's your boss! He sounds kinda scary!"
Orlando flushed. Last time he had seen his boss - a mere two days ago - he had been tied up, tormented with office toys, and exposed completely unclothed to waiters from a classy restaurant. His boxers had been confiscated with the proviso that he could attempt to claim them back in the New Year. It was only Boxing Day and now Mr Mortensen was calling him. Orlando took the phone from his sister with a nod of thanks.
"Hello, Mr Mortensen, Sir," Orlando began, walking out of the living room to find somewhere less crowded with family members to talk.
"Orlando. Good. And Sir will do, for now." Orlando could hear the amusement in his boss's voice.
"Yes, Sir. How can I help, Sir?" Orlando asked, wondering if this was a work related call.
"I hope you don't mind, pet, but I took the small liberty of looking up your number in personnel's records. I was very surprised when the young lady answered the phone. Quite thought I had the wrong number." Orlando could hear the question, although he doubted Mr Mortensen would actually come out and ask who it was if he played dumb.
"That was my sister, Sir," Orlando replied. "Sorry I didn't answer - I was doing the washing up. There’s a lot of it as we were all too full yesterday to be bothered."
"I see. You seem to rather enjoy being full up, pet." Orlando flushed again as the memory of their pre Christmas activities returned.
"Now, the reason for my call, Orlando, was to find out when you are planning to return to London. We have business to attend to, and I should so love to introduce you to my little playroom." Orlando shifted uncomfortably, his cock hardening at the thought of what Mr Mortensen might do to him, given the proper equipment.
"Well, Sir, I usually stay until New Years day, but if it's an emergency I'm sure my mum will understand if I have to leave early." Orlando offered, "I could drive back tomorrow morning; I'd be available by early afternoon, then?"
"I think that would suffice. You'll let me know when you arrive and I'll send a car for you. You might want to bring an overnight bag as well, pet." Mr Mortensen's tone suddenly changed, from vaguely professional to downright predatory. "Tell me, Orlando, are you alone right now?"
"Uhm.., Yes sir, I'm in my bedroom. With the door closed," Orlando said, his voice little more than a whisper.
"Good. In that case, I'd like you to open your trousers and get your penis out." Orlando thought it was the matter of fact way that Mr Mortensen spoke that somehow made his words so shocking, but he scrambled to obey, thumbing open the fly of his well worn jeans and slipping his boxers down enough to pull his cock out over the waistband. The small groan as his fingers closed around the sensitive flesh was enough to let Mr Mortensen know that he had obeyed.
"Good boy. Now, I want you to think about what I'm going to do to you tomorrow night, how I'm going to hurt you, to tease you until you're begging me to take you, and I want you to fuck your hand until you're on the edge of cumming. You're to stop when you get there and tell me, understand?"
"I... Yessir," Orlando managed to say. He could imagine that by the time his boss was done with him, he would be an absolute wreck, and the mere thought of the depraved acts he would be forced to perform made his cock hard enough that he could have come right then with very little effort. However, that was not what he'd been ordered to do, so instead Orlando stroked himself until he knew that the very next touch would send him over the edge.
"I'm there, Sir," he said breathily, "please, can I?"
"No," Mr Mortensen said, and Orlando could hear the finality in his voice. Begging would get him nowhere right now.
"Tell me, Orlando, do you have such a thing as a cock ring at your mother's house?" Mr Mortensen asked.
"Uhm... yes, Sir, at least, I think so. I haven't used it in a while though. Unless Mum found it and threw it out," Orlando said, although if his mother had wanted his room sorted out, she would have probably asked him to drive down for the weekend and do it. Certain things that she had found whilst cleaning when he was in his teens had led her to be very cautious of poking through his drawers.
"That's good. Much easier for you than trying to improvise something, right, pet? I want you to get it and put it on." The amused tone was back in Mr Mortensen's voice, and Orlando realised with a sinking feeling just what he was planning. Nonetheless, he got up from the bed and rummaged through his sock drawer until he found the simple leather strap, which was nestled in one corner along with a pair of evil clamps and a small butt plug - all of them things he hadn't used for years. Snapping the strap around himself with a whimper, Orlando was about to close the drawer when Mr Mortensen asked him a question that he'd hoped would not occur to him.
"So, pet. Do you have any other toys there at your mother's house?"
"Uhm... Just a pair of too tight nipple clamps, and a plug that's so skinny it's hard to keep it in, Sir," Orlando explained, hoping to dissuade his boss from having him use the toys on himself.
"I see... Well, you can leave the clamps where they are, but I do like a boy to be plugged whenever possible, so I think I'd like to listen to you lube that skinny plug with your mouth and then push it into yourself, and you can work on holding it in until tomorrow night. Unless nature calls, of course." Orlando couldn't hold back his sigh, but he did as he was told, thoroughly wetting the rubber before pushing it into his arse, the muscles clamping around it to hold it in place.
"It's in, Sir," Orlando said.
"That's a good boy," Mr Mortensen praised. "As a reward, you get to listen to me come before we say goodbye."
"Oh, thank you, Sir!" Orlando replied. "May I touch myself whilst I listen?"
"You may, but you're not allowed to come until tomorrow night, so I'll leave it up to you whether you want to touch or not. Oh, and you're to take your underwear off before you leave your mother's tomorrow, is that understood?" Orlando could only groan in response. He wasn't sure if it was more torturous to touch himself or not, knowing that he was going to be hard until tomorrow night. Mr Mortensen was apparently feeling quite merciful, because he didn't draw things out, coming quickly and then leaving Orlando to contemplate telling his Mum that he was leaving early. Driving with the plug in place was sure to be interesting, especially without undies. He'd have to wear baggy trousers, preferably jogging bottoms, to hide his arousal.
Tucking himself back in and pulling his T-shirt down as far as he could, Orlando eyed his all too obvious erection with a shake of his head. It would have to be a jumper - a big, baggy jumper would hide everything. Orlando dug through the wardrobe until he found what he was looking for, and then, having pulled it over his head and checked that it did indeed hide what needed to be hidden, he stuck his phone into his back pocket and went to break the news to his Mum.
******
The Next Morning
"Orlando, sweetheart, are you sure you have to go right now? Surely your boss isn't going to make you go into work today. You could at least stay for lunch and go home this afternoon, ready for tomorrow." Orlando's mother had been trying to convince him to stay just a little longer since he had announced last night that he would have to leave in the morning due to an emergency at work.
"I thought you just did the typing anyway," Sam chimed in, earning herself an extremely rude look from Orlando, who shifted uneasily on his chair as the damnable plug threatened to slip out again. He had been mildly amazed to find it still in place when he woke up this morning, but that had been mostly thanks to the pair of slightly too small briefs he had found in a drawer, which had helped immensely. Now though, in a pair of baggy joggers, only his muscles and sheer willpower were preventing supreme embarrassment whilst he argued with his mother and sister.
"Look, all I know is that Mr Mortensen said it was a real emergency, and that they need me there as soon as possible. If I can show that I'm dependable in this type of situation, maybe there'll be a promotion opportunity. You don't want me to miss out, do you?" Orlando asked, figuring that sometimes you just had to play dirty.
"No, I suppose you're right," Orlando's mum, Sonia, gave in with a sigh. "Just don't let them work you into the ground, and make sure they compensate you for missing Christmas at home. We were going to the pantomime tonight, and you'll miss seeing your cousins tomorrow. You know they'll be devastated!"
Orlando sighed. "I'll go and spend the day with them next time I have a week off. They'll never even miss me tomorrow. And you can take Sammy's boyfriend to the pantomime!" This last was pure revenge. That his sister had a boyfriend was not a secret, but she was not at all keen for him to meet their parents, fearing that they would think him unsuitable due to his eccentric way of dressing and sometimes odd ideas.
"Oh, that's a wonderful idea! Samantha, why don't you call him straight away? Six months is quite long enough for you to keep him away from us." With a glare at Orlando, Sammy went to do just that, taking the time to say goodbye to her brother with a punch to the arm on her way out.
Shaking his head at her reaction, Orlando finished his breakfast and then got up, pulling his mother in for a quick hug -but not too close, as he was still hard, the leather strap keeping his erection nicely stiff.
"I'm sorry I have to go, Mum. I'll call you at the weekend, okay?" Orlando said, smiling regretfully at his mother. He felt bad about lying to her, but not so much that he was willing to cancel his plans.
"Alright, son. Don't work too hard now, and try to at least relax a little bit," Sonia replied, walking Orlando to the door and waving as he drove away.
*********
Orlando made good time on his journey home; thankfully the traffic was minimal, once he got past the large shopping centre which was undoubtedly full of people taking advantage of the post Christmas sales. Pulling up outside the house where his flat was situated, Orlando parked the car and went inside.
"Right, shower and shave, and then a quick lunch and pack a bag before you call. You don't want to keep the driver -or worse Mr Mortensen - waiting," Orlando said to himself. Showering and shaving did not take long, nor did making and eating a sandwich, which Orlando did with a towel wrapped around his waist. It was deciding what to wear, and what to bring in the overnight bag, that took time. He didn't want to wear anything too nice, in case it got ripped or cut off him, but he also didn't want to look like a slob.
Finally, he dressed in a pair of quite nice but soft jeans, which clung to his arse but had enough room in the front to accommodate his erection without chafing too much. He chose a plain white t-shirt that showed off his trim physique, but could be easily replaced if destroyed, and with a change of clothes and his toothbrush thrown into a sports bag, Orlando grabbed his phone and dialled, breathing deeply as the line rang in a somewhat futile attempt to calm himself.
“Ahh, pet, I was beginning to think you had changed your mind,” Mr Mortensen said, his tone making Orlando gulp.
“Sorry, Sir,” Orlando stammered. “I wanted to make sure I was ready before I called, that’s all.”
“I see. Well then, since you have called, I take it that you are now ready?” At Orlando’s confirmation, Mr Mortensen continued. “Very well, I will have my driver pick you up. He will be there within half an hour - and as you are ready he will expect you to be waiting outside for him, to avoid any further delays. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Sir,” Orlando responded, his voice heavy with shame at having disappointed Mr Mortensen already.
“Good boy. Oh and pet, there will be some… items… in the car for you. I expect you to use them on your journey. I’m very much looking forward to seeing you.”
“I’m looking forward to it too, Sir,” Orlando said, brightening at the praise.
“I’m glad to hear it. I’ll see you very soon then, pet.” And with that, Mr Mortensen was gone.
In spite of the fact that they had only just finished talking, so certainly the driver could hardly be arriving just yet, Orlando grabbed his jacket and overnight bag and left the flat, trotting down the two flights of stairs to sit on the front wall and wait. Mr Mortensen had said the driver would be there “within half an hour”. That could mean 29 minutes, or it could mean five, and Orlando was determined that he would not be caught out.
In fact, it was twenty five minutes later and Orlando had just started to shiver, when a large black car pulled up. A man wearing a smart uniform wound down the window to peer at him thoughtfully, pursing his lips as he bent his head to check his phone before speaking.
“Orlando?” he asked, and when Orlando nodded in confirmation and stood up, bag in hand, he smiled in a manner that was friendly, but held a definite hint of mischief - Orlando guessed that Mr Mortensen had briefed his driver on the purpose of Orlando’s visit. The man got out of the car, and grabbed a peaked cap from the passenger seat, hiding his dark hair from view, but even the tailored uniform couldn’t hide the muscles and wiry strength in his frame. Orlando guessed that he served as more than a driver for Mr Mortensen.
“You’re to give me your bag and coat, and get into the back. Mr Mortensen has left instructions for you, and he expects them to be followed to the letter,” the man said, with an accent that Orlando couldn’t quite place. It definitely wasn’t English - perhaps Australian or New Zealand, though. He opened the back door for Orlando, and relieved him of his luggage and coat before closing the door behind him, sealing Orlando in behind the blacked out rear windows. Almost out of reflex, Orlando tried the door once he was sat inside, but found it would not open. An interesting use for what was surely designed as a child lock, he pondered.
There was a folded sheet of paper on the seat next to him, and Orlando picked it up, opening it to read the contents.
Pet,
In the bag on the floor, you’ll find some accessories. I want all of them to be on your body by the time you arrive here. The only other thing you should be wearing when I see you is your trousers. You can leave everything else in the car. See you soon.
Sir
Orlando reached down to the floor and picked up the black velvet bag he found there. Tipping out the contents, he found four leather cuffs, a pair of clamps attached together by a heavy looking chain, and lastly an oddly shaped gag that seemed to have a valve in the front.
Working quickly, Orlando removed his shoes and socks, fastening one cuff around each ankle before stripping off his t-shirt and applying the other two cuffs to his wrists. The leather felt wonderfully soft against his skin, and they were obviously very well used.
Next came the gag. Orlando carefully put it into his mouth, the inner portion of the gag extending into both of his cheeks, as well as pushing his tongue down. His teeth rested comfortably on the mid section, and the outer part covered them, but sat inside his lips. Orlando couldn’t recall having come across another gag quite like it, but he did not really have time to sit and think on it right then.
Bracing himself, he picked up the nipple clamps - they were fairly simple looking alligator teeth clamps, with rubber ends to protect the delicate skin from the metal. They appeared to close quite tightly though, and Orlando was sure that they were not an easy option. Teasing his left nipple into hardness, Orlando applied the first clamp, groaning a little as it snapped shut. The second clamp went on just as quickly, the stab of pain making Orlando’s cock jerk inside his trousers, desperate for relief that Orlando knew it was not going to get for some time. Orlando weighed the thick chain in his hands for some moments before taking the plunge and letting it drop, feeling the increased tug as his nipples took the weight.
Now that he was all ready, according to Mr Mortensen’s instructions, there was nothing to do but wait until they arrived.
******
The car stopped moving, and Orlando tried to see where they had pulled up, but the windows were too dark for him to make out anything. After a few moments the car moved again, and then stopped after several minutes. Orlando guessed that they had just gone up Mr Mortensen’s driveway, and he marvelled at the concept of being rich enough to own a property with a long drive near central London.
Once the car stopped for the second time, the door beside Orlando was opened. He got out, blushing a little when the driver appreciatively eyed his bare chest and the rather obvious hard on in his jeans, the grin on his face and glee in his brown eyes speaking volumes. The man said nothing though, merely gesturing for Orlando to follow him up the steps to the front door. Orlando obeyed the unspoken order, wondering how many times this man had made similar deliveries.
Mr Mortensen's driver pulled the door bell, and then patted Orlando on one shoulder, a murmured “Good luck, mate,” were his only words before he re-entered the car, leaving Orlando standing nervously on the doorstep.
Technically, there was nothing to stop him leaving even now. There was nothing he was wearing that he couldn't remove himself, and although he would have to get home barefoot, he still had his wallet and phone in the pocket of his jeans. For a moment Orlando considered bolting, but then he calmed, remembering Mr Mortensen's previous words to him - he wanted Orlando to enjoy what they did as much as he did himself. This was not some seedy stranger. It was Orlando’s boss, and he wouldn't do anything that Orlando didn’t want him to.
The door opened, and Orlando, who had been half expecting a housekeeper or some other servant to answer the door, was gratified to see Mr Mortensen within. The other man looked Orlando up and down appraisingly, and when he twirled one finger round without a word, Orlando was ready and turned obediently, bending forward just a little so that the base of the plug pressed against the back of his jeans. When he faced front again, Orlando peeked up at Mr Mortensen from underneath his curls before dropping his eyes to the floor in a more traditional posture.
“Good boy. I see that you've obeyed well. Come inside, then, and we’ll have a chat before we get started." So saying, Mr Mortensen took a moment to caress Orlando’s hair before moving out the way to allow him entrance into the house. Orlando walked inside and then stopped, unable to stop himself from looking around, slightly awed at the beautiful house he found himself in.
“Do you like what you see, pet?” Mr Mortensen asked, clearly amused by Orlando’s expression. “I’ll show you round properly, later on. Just now though, we’re going into the sitting room.” He gestured as he spoke, and Orlando went ahead down a small hall and into a luxurious sitting room, where a fire blazed merrily away, sending warming heat throughout the room.
Mr Mortensen seated himself in a comfortable looking armchair near the fire, and then smiled at Orlando, who was standing awkwardly, not quite sure what he should be doing. Given the relationship they had, he wouldn’t dare take the liberty of sitting in one of the chairs without permission, but he felt faintly stupid just standing here.
“First thing’s first - take your trousers off, pet, and then you can come and kneel at my feet whilst we talk,” Mr Mortensen ordered after allowing the awkward silence to stretch for close to a minute. Just long enough to really make Orlando squirm. Orlando did as he was bid, first opening his fly to reveal his poor engorged cock, and then pushing the trousers down and stepping out of them. Mr Mortensen was given a wonderful view of his backside, the end of the plug nestled between his cheeks, as Orlando bent to pick up his jeans before folding them and placing them neatly on the floor where they would be out of the way.
Having done so, Orlando walked over to the chair where Mr Mortensen sat. He dropped to his knees on the wooden floor, letting his hands fall on top of his thighs and looking down at the floor, although his eyes peeked upwards.
“Good boy, now, open wide for me. I’m going to remove your gag for just a little while, although I’ll be putting it back in soon - I do love the way it looks, peeking out from between your lips, and you haven’t even seen the best thing about it yet.” So saying, Mr Mortensen carefully extracted the gag from Orlando’s mouth, laying it on a handy table. “Good. Now, just to check, can you remind me of your safe word, please?”
“It’s Canterbury, Sir,” Orlando said, running his tongue over his teeth and stretching his lips a little.
“Good. And for when you’re gagged, do you have a signal? If not, we should set one now.” Mr Mortensen knew that he was planning to push Orlando tonight, to see if the connection that he’d felt in his office was real, and if Orlando was interested in a longer term relationship. He’d far rather call a scene to a halt than go further than the boy was ready for. Trust was important in any relationship, but never more so than this type.
“Uhm… I don’t think I’ve ever used one, Sir,” Orlando said, tilting his head to one side as he thought back over his previous encounters. Usually when he’d been gagged before, it was just because he had a tendency to scream when fucked hard, and it wasn’t always convenient to be overheard. He had never needed a “stop” signal before.
“Well, hopefully you won’t have to tonight, pet, but if something is too much, I want to know right away - even if you just want me to slow down a little, or take a break - safewording, for me, anyway, means “stop now, I need to talk to you”. Of course, it can mean stop altogether, but that tends to be covered in the talking. I don’t want you to be afraid to tell me you’ve had enough, okay, Orlando?”
Orlando nodded. This was clearly something that Mr Mortensen felt very strongly about, and it made sense, really. Stopping to talk about things was much more sensible than the meaning his previous partner’s had assigned to the safeword - which was you can say it, but if you do, you’re going home. He thought about a good signal, and when he’d come up with something that he thought would work, suggested it thoughtfully.
“How about if I do this?” he asked, raising his left hand, fingers parted between the middle and ring finger a la Mr Spock. “I’m not likely to do it by accident, after all.” Mr Mortensen laughed.
“No, I suppose you’re not. That seems like a reasonable signal. If I decide to tie your hands down whilst you’re gagged, that should still work - but I’ll also give you something to hold so if you need a break, you’ll drop it. Is that all clear and understood?”
“Yes, Sir,” Orlando replied. It felt good to know that his safety was being so thoroughly considered.
“Good. Now, regarding our activities this afternoon, I’ve got some fairly elaborate equipment, but I thought we’d keep it reasonably simple to start off with - a nice spanking to get you warmed up. Some more interesting accessories than those you’re currently sporting, and then a face fucking. From there, we’ll just see how we go. How does that sound to you, pet?”
Orlando was sure that it must be obvious what he thought of the idea - his cock seemed harder than ever, his whole body seemed to be blushing, and his breath had hitched several times when he tried, unsuccessfully, to bite back moans.
“It sounds great, Sir,” he managed to say, actually whimpering a little when Mr Mortensen’s hand touched the top of his head, stroking his curls in a rather possessive manner that made Orlando thrill, just a little.
“Excellent,” Mr Mortensen said, a thoroughly evil smile on his face. He picked up the gag that he had removed before and quirked his eyebrows at Orlando, smiling when the other man took the hint and opened his mouth wide to receive the gag. “Now I can show you the fun part of this little gag, which incidentally, is also why it doesn’t need a strap to hold it in place. Keep still now.”
As he spoke, Mr Mortensen reached into the pocket of the smart jacket he was wearing and withdrew what looked like a hand pump. Affixing it to what was apparently a valve in the front of the gag, he pumped a few times. Orlando squeaked as he felt the rubber in his mouth growing, but the sound was muffled, even to his own ears.
“How’s that feeling? Still comfy?” Mr Mortensen asked. “Can you move it at all?”
Orlando tried, finding that he could push the front of the gag forward a little way. Mr Mortensen frowned, and worked the pump several more times.
“Now?” Orlando found that he could now not get any purchase to shift the suddenly huge invader from his mouth. His tongue was held completely flat on the floor of his mouth, his cheeks bulging outwards. Strangely though, it was very comfortable; unlike more traditional gags, there were no straps pulling at the side of his lips, and because it expanded mostly into his cheeks, there was nothing hitting the back of his throat or blocking his airway, although of course he would be unable to breathe if his nose were blocked.
Mr Mortensen eyed Orlando thoughtfully, and then pumped twice more for good measure, smiling at the tiny noise that was all Orlando could now manage, before removing the pump from the front of the gag and stowing it back in his pocket. He would need it later on to release the air from the gag before Orlando could take it out.
“Come now, pet. You can follow me to the playroom on your hands and knees, and we’ll get started for real.” With that, Mr Mortensen turned and walked from the room, leaving Orlando to crawl after him.
As Orlando dropped forward to follow Mr Mortensen, the chain linking his clamps suddenly made itself known, the weight now hanging straight down, making Orlando squeak - just about the only noise he could currently make.
Mr Mortensen walked fairly slowly, giving Orlando a good chance to keep up with him, but not allowing him to dawdle by any means. Thankfully the playroom was not too far away, behind a door hidden in a bookshelf in the study. Once they were inside, Mr Mortensen pushed the door shut, and Orlando gulped as he saw the beautifully and extensively equipped room for the first time.
One wall was covered in glass fronted cabinets, through which Orlando could see various accessories and implements - some of which he was sure would be demonstrated on his person in the near future. There was also a leather covered spanking bench that looked just the right height to brace himself over for either a spanking or a good hard fuck, and plenty solid enough to stay in place for either.
There was also a large, sumptuous looking bed, and Orlando’s sharp eyes noted various hooks and loops in convenient places for restraining a person comfortably - or less so, if that was what was wanted.
There were also a number of items that Orlando had no idea what purpose they might serve. Mr Mortensen evidently had a wealth of experience, and Orlando was definitely looking forward to seeing what would be on offer tonight. Based on his previous words, he wasn’t planning on using any of the more exotic objects tonight anyway, so Orlando would have to hope for an invite back to find out what they were for.
“Orlando, I want you to brace yourself over the spanking bench for me,” Mr Mortensen asked - well, ordered really, adding, “I’m not going to restrain you just at the moment. I’m sure you can hold still for me.”
Orlando nodded and moved quickly to the aforementioned bench, bending over it and leaning forward with his legs spread so that his backside was sticking up, inviting Mr Mortensen to use him as he would.
Orlando heard Mr Mortensen moving around behind him, and the sound of glass doors opening and closing. It took a lot of effort to resist the urge to turn his head and look, but he was rewarded with a pat and another murmured “good boy” when Mr Mortensen finished picking out whatever was being chosen. Orlando was a little taken aback to realise that he was fast becoming addicted to hearing his boss call him “pet” and “good boy” - he decided not to examine this too deeply just yet. Better to simply go with the flow. There was nothing to be gained from getting his hopes up if it turned out that Mr Mortensen just wanted a bit of holiday fun and nothing more. Orlando mentally crossed his fingers that this would not turn out to be the case.
Mr Mortensen moved back towards Orlando, placing several objects down outside of Orlando’s field of vision.
“Now, pet, first of all I’m going to take that little plug out of your arse, and replace it with something a little more... substantial, and a bit more seasonal. Should be a little easier for you to keep in place whilst I’m working on you.” Mr Mortensen’s tone was utterly conversational and unaffected, even as his hand caressed one of Orlando’s cheeks before pulling the slender plug from its resting place, tutting at the way Orlando’s hole twitched as the plug was removed.
“Goodness me, that is very small!” Mr Mortensen remarked. “That must have been a terrible struggle for you to hold in place.” As he spoke, Mr Mortensen twisted two of his fingers into Orlando, not stretching him really, just assessing how open he was. Assessment made, Mr Mortensen removed his fingers, and Orlando heard the cap being flipped from a bottle of lube before the fingers were back, this time with a third one added, spreading the slippery liquid inside him before disappearing again, to be replaced by what was definitely a larger plug than the one Orlando had been wearing. This new toy made soft jingling noises as Mr Mortensen moved it into position.
“Let’s see if you can take it with a single push. I don’t think there should be a problem, pet. It’s not one of my larger plugs, just something nice and solid. It should feel nice and comfy once it’s in place.” Orlando nodded his understanding, bracing himself on his elbows so that once Mr Mortensen started pushing, he remained still whilst the plug pushed slowly but inexorably inside of him. Orlando felt himself being stretched around the bulk of the plug, which was, as promised, not exactly giant but was definitely larger than what had been removed. Once the plug was securely in place, Mr Mortensen stepped back, surveying Orlando. The small bundle of bells, which were held in place underneath the plug by means of red and green ribbons, made for an interesting sight. Orlando would certainly be aware of them whilst he was being spanked, and especially when he had to move, as their soft chimes would remind him of their presence throughout the evening.
“I’m going to spank you now, pet. I’ll start with my hand to warm you up, and then I have a nice paddle for you. You know what to do if you need me to stop?” Orlando nodded, lifting one hand in demonstration. “Good boy.” With that, Mr Mortensen stepped to one side, and Orlando took a deep breath, readying himself for the first strike.
Mr Mortensen raised his hand, stopping for a moment to observe the delectable sight laid out before him. The vision Orlando presented, splayed out for Mr Mortensen's pleasure, was enough to make him hard with no other stimulation. The boy’s willing, even eager submission would have been an enormous turn on by itself. His beautiful face and slim figure were a nice bonus indeed.
Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Mr Mortensen brought his hand down on Orlando’s backside - a fairly hard strike, though definitely not the hardest he could give. Orlando squeaked through his gag, and Mr Mortensen looked thoughtfully at the handprint he had left before striking out again and again and again, leaving a trail of red marks wherever he struck. Orlando shifted his arse, inviting the slaps as they became harder with each blow.
By the time Mr Mortensen stopped for a few moments to grab a simple wooden paddle, Orlando’s arse was on fire. There were a few tears rolling down his face - Mr Mortensen could hit hard even with just his hand once he got going. Orlando could hardly wait to see how he would swing the paddle. He reflected happily, in the few moments pause, that he was unlikely to sit comfortably for a week or two.
“Are you alright there, pet?” Mr Mortensen asked, waiting for Orlando’s somewhat shaky nod before patting him comfortingly and then drawing back and spanking him soundly with the paddle. Orlando couldn’t help tensing into the blow, and his breath hitched as Mr Mortensen layered his backside with paddle-strikes. After twenty or so, Orlando found that tears were falling freely down his face, and his cock was harder than ever within its bonds. He didn’t know why he got off on this, but the pain and the “helplessness” combined to bring his arousal to a level he could hardly bear.
Suddenly, Orlando found himself struggling to breathe. The constant flow of tears had caused his nose to block, and with the gag in his mouth he just couldn’t quite catch his breath. Orlando tried to calm himself, but then gave in to the inevitable and raised his hand, and his head, which had been hanging down as he surrendered to the pain/ pleasure of the paddling.
Mr Mortensen’s reaction was instant. He dropped the paddle to the floor and was helped Orlando up, the pump for the gag pulled from his pocket and attached to deflate it before it was pulled out of Orlando’s mouth, allowing the free flow of air once again.
“What’s the matter, pet?” Mr Mortensen asked worriedly, pulling Orlando’s body against his own and supporting the other man as he stood on shaky legs.
“‘m okay, thank you, Sir. I couldn’t breathe for a second there… my nose...” Orlando gasped, leaning into Mr Mortensen’s embrace and breathing in deeply through his mouth, taking pleasure in his restored ability.
“You’re alright now though, pet?” Mr Mortensen checked. “We can continue the spanking without the gag, if you’re happy to do so. If you want to take a break, that’s fine, too.” He knew that some boys, and some Sirs as well, had an almost pathological dislike of actually using a safeword. He felt somewhat differently about the whole issue - part of the whole voluntary surrendering of power deal was the ability to take back that power at any time and for any reason. Even if you just wanted to be out of restraints for five minutes to use the bathroom, that was fine by him. So it was up to Orlando whether he wanted to continue with the spanking; if not, he was sure he could find another way to amuse them both.
“I’d like to keep going please, Sir,” Orlando replied, using his wrist to clear the tears from his face. “I’ll try my best to keep quiet if you don’t gag me.”
“Nonsense, pet, of course I’m not going to gag you right now - I’m sure you’ll be crying again before we’re done and I can’t have you suffocating on me, that’s not on my list of fun things at all! You can scream however loudly you need to - the only people who’ll hear are my driver and cook and it won’t bother them one bit - they’ve heard a lot worse than a few shrieks,” Mr Mortensen said, ruffling Orlando’s hair fondly as he braced his body once more over the spanking bench, letting his head fall forwards as Mr Mortensen resumed.
“Nearly there now, Orlando,” Mr Mortensen said, forty or so blows later. Orlando’s backside was by this time beginning to bruise quite nicely, as were the tops of his thighs. “Just another five to round out the hundred and we’re all done.”
“Yes Sir, thank you, Sir,” Orlando whimpered. His throat had become hoarse with yelling and he was by now clinging onto the bench to hold himself up. His cock was just as hard as ever - Orlando wondered briefly if he would be allowed to come that night. After all, it seemed that Mr Mortensen planned for him to stay over, so there was no guarantee. This thought was soon knocked out of his head by the last five spanks, after which Orlando allowed himself to collapse just a little more into the bench, his whole chest now resting on the soft leather, rightly assuming that Mr Mortensen would help him up once he was ready to do so.
Mr Mortensen placed the paddle down on the small table next to the spanking bench and shook his wrist out before moving forward to where Orlando half stood and half lay across it. He couldn’t resist patting the other man’s arse, smirking when Orlando yelped.
“You did wonderfully, pet. I’m very pleased with you,” Mr Mortensen said, his tone soft and reassuring. “How are you feeling?”
“I don’t think I’ll sit comfortably for a couple of weeks, Sir, and my legs are pretty shaky, but I’m okay, thank you, Sir,” Orlando replied, his voice a little hoarse from the screaming he had recently been doing.
“Do you think you can stand up for me?” Mr Mortensen asked, leaning forward to help Orlando. Orlando nodded, allowing himself to be lifted, and when he was upright, leaning into the support and comfort offered by the other man’s body.
“Good. Good boy,” Mr Mortensen murmured, his hand dropping down to pull Orlando closer, and incidentally to pinch his bruised flesh and provoke another delicious squeal from him, along with a cheerful jingle from the bells attached to his backside. Orlando started at the pinch, becoming painfully aware of his erection once again. The combination of the pain, the surrender, and the proximity of Mr Mortensen were combining to make his cock leak copious amounts of precum.
“Hmmm… I think we’ll have to take care of that soon, won’t we, pet?” Mr Mortensen felt Orlando’s erection pressing against the fabric of the soft but smart trousers he wore. “But first, I’d like you to remind me how good your mouth feels around my cock, if you don’t mind.” It was an order, really, and Orlando knew it. After a moment, he shifted away from Mr Mortensen to drop to his knees and begin.
“Wait one second, pet,” Mr Mortensen stopped Orlando with a touch to the elbow. Reaching to the table where he had placed the paddle a short while before, he picked up a length of chain and several small weights.
“Put your hands behind your back please, Orlando,” Mr Mortensen ordered.
“Yes Sir,” Orlando replied, turning to present his hands. Mr Mortensen attached one end of the chain to each of the cuffs which Orlando was already wearing. Orlando pulled his hands apart, not trying to release himself, but simply testing the reach of the chain.
“Good boy. Turn back now so that I can add these weights to your nipple chain,” Mr Mortensen said, his voice once again annoyingly calm. Orlando did as he was bid, breathing deeply as the three weights were hooked onto the chain, adding to the pull on his already abused nipples. “Excellent. You’re doing very well, Orlando. Now, onto your knees.”
“Thank you, Sir, Yes Sir,” Orlando said, unable to resist licking his lips at the thought of tasting Mr Mortensen’s cock once again.
Orlando dropped gracefully to his knees, and then looked up at Mr Mortensen, unsure if he should be using his mouth to open his trousers or if Mr Mortensen was planning to get himself out ready. After a long moment of silence, Orlando decided that the sensible thing to do was ask.
"Please, Sir, shall I undo your trousers for you?" Orlando asked, tilting his head to the side and clenching around the plug still buried in his arse, enjoying the sensation as his movement nudged it against his prostate.
"Not this time, Orlando. As you've been such a good boy, I'm going to take mercy on you and undo them," Mr Mortensen replied, suiting action to word and flicking open the buttons of his fly, revealing his lack of underwear beneath. Freeing his erection from the fabric, he smiled at Orlando. "There, all ready for you. Go ahead when you’re ready, pet."
Orlando couldn't help returning the smile before licking his lips once again and then shifting forwards. He began by licking the very tip of Mr Mortensen's cock, savouring the taste of the fluid leaking from it. Orlando then began to work in earnest, slowly making his way down the length with just his tongue, before opening his mouth and taking the head inside.
Orlando could hear the bells hanging from his backside tingling gently as he shifted forwards to take more of Mr Mortensen's cock inside his mouth. He hummed around it, enjoying the hitch in Mr Mortensen's breath as Orlando stimulated him further.
With Orlando’s talented mouth working him, it did not take long for Mr Mortensen to near his peak. As he felt his orgasm draw near, Mr Mortensen grabbed Orlando’s curls, fucking his face hard until he spilled his seed down Orlando's throat with a shout.
Orlando used his tongue to gently clean Mr Mortensen’s softening cock before pulling back to sit on his knees.
“That was very well done, thank you, pet.” Mr Mortensen smiled down at Orlando. “Now, your poor penis is looking rather red and swollen. I think we ought to do something about that, don’t you?”
“Yes please, Sir,” Orlando begged, fluttering his eyelashes just a little.
“Hmm, let’s have you sat on the spanking bench, I think,” Mr Mortensen ordered, helping Orlando to his feet - it wasn’t easy getting up without using your hands to balance - and smirking when Orlando hissed as his abused backside settled on the leather of the spanking bench.
Mr Mortensen placed one hand on Orlando's thigh and took his cock in the other, squeezing just a little before he began to stroke it teasingly, his grip annoyingly gentle. Orlando couldn't stop himself from whimpering in frustration as his hips bucked upwards of their own accord, seeking more contact.
"P... Please, Sir," Orlando begged, desperate to come but needing more before he could.
"Please what, pet?" Mr Mortensen asked. "Would you like me to stop?"
"N...n... No, Sir, please don't stop. More, please. Want to come - I'm so hard for you. Please let me come!" Orlando was aware that he was being somewhat shameless right now, but really, he could care less.
Mr Mortensen smirked, tightening his grip just a smidgen, and moving his other hand from Orlando’s leg to tweak the clamps on Orlando’s nipples, his grin widening when Orlando squealed.
“Have you ever thought about having your nipples pierced, Orlando?” Mr Mortensen asked, as though the thought had just occurred to him. “Lots of fun things we could do with nipple rings.”
“N.. no, Sir,” Orlando managed to say, although it was obviously an effort for him to get the words out.
“Well, maybe something to consider sometime. It would make them even more sensitive than they are already. I’m going to take the clamps off now, pet. You can come whenever you’re ready - and feel free to scream if you need to.” Mr Mortensen suited action to word, removing both clamps quickly and dropping them onto the table nearby before moving his free hand to pull Orlando close and kiss him thoroughly, all the while his other hand kept stroking.
Orlando wailed into the kiss, the pain from his nipples adding to the exquisite sensation of Mr Mortensen’s hand around his cock and tongue in his mouth to send him over the edge. Orlando was still howling when Mr Mortensen released him. The other man removed the leather strap from Orlando’s cock, murmuring comforting nonsense until Orlando calmed.
“Good boy. Now, clean my hand up please,” Mr Mortensen ordered, holding his hand, which was covered with Orlando’s come, up to the boy’s mouth. Orlando licked it clean, idly noticing that his own seed tasted rather different than Mr Mortensen’s.
Orlando’s legs still felt somewhat like jelly as Mr Mortensen helped him down from the spanking bench. He couldn’t help but smile when he was pulled into the other man’s arms and just held for a few moments.
“You’ve done very well, pet. I’m very pleased with you,” Mr Mortensen said, pressing a kiss to the top of Orlando’s head.
“Thank you, Sir,” Orlando replied.
“Now, I thought we might take a break and perhaps watch a film and have something to eat, and then come back and have some more fun before bed. How does that sound to you, Orlando?”
“That sounds great!” Orlando enthused. He was really enjoying their play, but a bit of downtime would be good as well, allowing both of them to get some energy back, ready for later.
“Good. Come this way, then.” Mr Mortensen gestured for Orlando to go in front, enjoying the view of his bruised backside with the plug still nestled inside, bells chiming merrily as he obeyed. Orlando’s hands were still chained behind his back, and on a whim, Mr Mortensen grabbed the chain, pulling Orlando to a stop.
“Wait just a moment, pet, I’ve had a thought,” Mr Mortensen smiled reassuringly, leaving Orlando to wait whilst he went back to the cabinet and brought out a second length of chain, which he fastened between Orlando’s ankles. The chain wasn’t short enough to present any real problem for walking, but it served as one more reminder of his position here.
The first few steps after having his ankles chained, Orlando walked a little awkwardly, the weight of the chain meaning he needed to use a little more force than he was used to when lifting his feet. By the time they reached their destination, though, he had become used to the feeling and was walking almost normally. This sitting room was completely different to the one he had seen earlier. It featured an enormous television and an array of comfortable seats. Orlando looked around, wondering where he should sit. He wasn’t sure that he would be able to kneel for a couple of hours, but he didn’t want to mess up any of the chairs by sitting his bare bottom on it - not to mention that to assume he had permission to sit on a chair could be considered a liberty, for a boy.
Luckily, Mr Mortensen was prepared and, after throwing a blanket over the seats, invited Orlando to curl up next to him on a large sofa. Orlando did so, resting his head on Mr Mortensen’s chest and cuddling in when an arm reached around him and settled on his hip.
“Before we put the film on, pet, I wanted to talk to you about the future,” Mr Mortensen said, his tone of voice making Orlando look up at him worriedly.
“Okay,” Orlando replied, biting his lip and hoping that he wasn’t about to be fired. He hoped not - after all, the day was going great, but Mr Mortensen sounded so serious.
“You and I seem to be pretty compatible, at least so far,” Mr Mortensen began. “It’s been a long time since I had more than a casual relationship, but if you’re amenable to it, I’d very much like for you to be mine.”
“What exactly do you mean?” Orlando asked. Mine could mean a lot of things, and it was best to be clear before agreeing to anything.
“I mean I’d like to spend more time with you. We’d agree on a trial period, and a list of things you are and aren’t happy to do, and then you’d come over at the agreed times - maybe one or two evenings after work, and some weekends. I suppose it’s a bit like dating, only we wouldn’t leave the house that much,” Mr Mortensen explained. He wasn’t looking for a full time boy, at least initially, and certainly wasn’t expecting Orlando to just drop everything and move in with him at the drop of a hat.
“That sounds… great, actually, Sir,” Orlando said, smiling. “What about work? I mean…”
“Work is work, pet. We couldn’t be open about things there - I’d be accused of favouritism, and you of trying to sleep your way to the top, but I’m sure I can make your days more interesting for you,” Mr Mortensen said with a grin that made Orlando whimper. He was quite sure that there was a lot that his boss could do to him that would liven up his days.
“Then yes… I’d like to be yours, please, Sir,” Orlando said, his smile threatening to break his face in half.
“Good. Tomorrow morning we can sit down and go through your list, and decide how long we want to start with. Of course, there’s no actual time limit - as long as we’re both enjoying ourselves, we can keep going.”
“Uhm… I have a question?” Orlando asked, wishing his hands were free so that he could bite his finger - this being a nervous habit of his.
“Go ahead.”
“What should I call you? Should it just be Sir all the time?”
“That’s a good question, pet. When we’re actually in a scene then you should address me as Sir, but times like this, or if we are out and about, then you can call me by my first name,” Mr Mortensen - Viggo - replied.
“Okay. Thank you, Viggo,” Orlando said, trying out the new permission, just to see how the word felt in his mouth.
“Now, onto more serious matters. What film would you like to watch? I thought maybe something Christmassy, and maybe some hot chocolate to drink whilst we watch.”
“That sounds great,” Orlando said, beaming. “How about “Elf”, or “The Santa Clause”? Those are my favourite Christmas films.”
“Then “Elf” it is - I’ve never heard of the other, so I assume I don’t have it,” Viggo replied. “Sit up for a second whilst I arrange the drinks and put the film on. Most of my staff are off with their families for Christmas, but luckily Liv and Karl were both happy to stay. That’s my cook and my driver, who I believe you’ve already met.” Orlando nodded, blushing just a little at the memory. He sat up, with Viggo’s assistance, and waited obediently, looking idly around the room and wondering why Viggo needed such a big house when he seemed to live alone. Orlando had just decided that this was a question for another day when Viggo walked back in holding a DVD case. He was followed by a young lady who Orlando guessed must be Liv. She held a tray with two steaming mugs and a bowl of popcorn on it.
“I’ll just pop these on the table for you,” Liv said to Viggo. She had raised her eyebrows when she saw Orlando sat, naked and restrained, on the sofa, but did not otherwise acknowledge him.
“Thank you, Liv. Oh, I forgot to ask, do we have any straws? I think Orlando’s going to have a bit of trouble if not,” Viggo asked. Orlando wondered if it was considered normal in this house for people to be nude. No one but him seemed to find it strange in the slightest.
“I think we have some left over from when the children last visited, sir. I’ll just fetch him one.” Liv winked at Orlando, who had quickly realised that there was nothing to be gained from trying to cover himself. Much less embarrassing to just sit still and accept his fate!
Viggo finished fiddling with the DVD player and came back to sit with Orlando, coaxing the other man to lean against him once more. Orlando was happy to do so - the room was warm, but somehow cuddling into Viggo’s side was much more satisfying. Viggo waited until Liv had brought the straw for Orlando’s drink, and then thanked her and dismissed her until dinner.
He started the film, and then pulled Orlando closer, reaching down to give a gentle push to the plug that Orlando still wore, reminding him who was in charge. Orlando guessed that there was more fun planned for later on, and probably in the morning as well - altogether this was turning out to be much more entertaining than the pantomime.
***FINIS***
A/N: I'd love to continue this in the future. My muses are kinda lazy though so... maybe next advent ;)