Chapter One

[beautiful-ori.livejournal.com]

Title:Libero
Pairing(s):Multiple pairings, but mainly Orli/Johnny and Orli/Viggo
Author: beautiful_ori
Rating: Prologue is tame, but the rest will be NC-17
Warnings:Slavery, non-con/rape, BDSM, hurt/comfort
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything or get paid...wish I did, though. Damn.
Summary:Young and empoverished, Orlando foolishly binds himself to a man obsessed with money and power, and ends up becoming a famous courtesan until he is unwittingly rescued by a Lord who has no desire for him...or so he thinks. Beta'ed by the lovely and incomparable namarielorien

More reviews = motivation & more chapters



One

After Heath was gone, gone forever, Orlando was sent for. He had expected it would happen, but he still groaned at the summons. He could not lose his temper, he could not speak out of turn or complain-his master did not allow him to behave that way-but he was not sure if he could hold it in after losing the only man he had ever loved for the sake of a rich man’s greed. As he climbed up the well-polished stairwells towards his master’s suite, he could not help but think to himself about things he tried very hard to keep out of his mind.

“How long have I been a prisoner here? How long will I have to stay? Will my master keep me here forever?” And it became clear to him as he knocked mildly at the door that he would never be able to love. That his master would not allow it and that what had passed between himself and Heath was a fool’s dream, one that he could not let go of on his own because it had felt too good to pretend that he was free to love like everyone else.

“Come in, my pretty one.” Orlando heard his master say, and took a deep breath before he did so. Dealing with Viggo was never easy.

“Your face looks so sad, today, pretty. Tell your loving master what is wrong,” Viggo said, sitting in his armchair with a scotch in his hand ans making a pout with his lips. Orlando thought in the deepest pit of his mind that his master might be handsome if he weren’t such a demon.

“Why didn’t you let me go with him, master?” Orlando did not try to pretend he was not as miserable as he was. Viggo always saw through him, for they’d been together for a very long time. He let the tears flow freely as he spoke. “I have earned back what you paid for me two hundred times over. Why must I stay here when the others can earn their freedom? Haven’t I made you more then the rest of them put toghether? You know how much I loved Heath. Why didn’t you just let him buy me?”

The look that Viggo gave Orlando was quite pitying, as if Orlando were stupid not to already know.

“Because I love you, my pretty little thing. Why should I let you go if I love you?”

“If you loved me then you would want me to be happy.”

“No, my pet, that’s not true. When you love someone you have to do what is best for them even if it makes them unhappy.” He was talking to Orlando like one would a slow child, and it was making orlando furious.

“You think this is what’s best for me? Being a slave a…a whore?”

“We have been through this, my sweet, and I do tire of discussing it incessantly. But since I am in a favorable mood I will humor you. You may have paid me back what I paid for you in cash. But what is it that you have not repaid?”

Orlando looked away. He did not want to say anything.

“ANSWER ME!” Viggo ordered.

“M-My debt to you, master.”

“And what debt is that, my pretty one?”

“A…Life debt, master. One which I swore to you. One which cannot be repaid until such…such a time that I should die, master.”

“That’s right. Now, Orlando, it isn’t right that you need to be reminded so often why you are my slave. Why you will always be my slave. And what is worse is how you make it seem as if it were my fault. You asked for it-begged for it, even, and I merely honored your request.”

It was true. Orlando had begged most fervently.

"I would have refused if I had known how much you would grow to whine about the situation so.” Viggo continued.

“I am so sorry, master. I ask forgiveness.”

Viggo was right. Orlando sometimes allowed his sadness to make him forget.

“You say that so often, pet, and you are such a marvelous actor that I have no way of knowing if you lie. Think of all those girls who ask for you-not a one of them knows that you’re molly. You probably lie to me every day.”

“No, master, never,” Orlando vowed.

“All the same…I think that you need to be punished. I think that you need to be reminded of your place.”

“Y-yes, master.” It was always this way. Every time Viggo sent for him he was punished. Usually it was like this. Viggo would talk for him until he accidentaly gave him a reason to be frustrated. But sometimes Viggo was in such a mood that he gave no reason and simply took to abusing his slave’s body in whichever manner he saw fit.

He hadn’t thought that it would be this way all those years ago when he had begged the man to make him his slave-not that it would have changed anything. Orlando and his sister Samantha had been orphaned very young. Samantha, being the elder of the two, might have been able to get a job if she hadn’t been so sickly. The tiny Orlando, no more than eight years old at the time, had taken to picking the pockets of nobles walking through the marketplace. He didn’t even dream to ever make enough to get medicine, but he could get enough to feed them, and he knew that Samantha could sometimes feel well when she’d eaten a hearty meal.

But one day when he was about eleven things had gone astray. He had picked the wrong person’s pocket. No sooner than he’d grabbed hold of the wristwatch in the man’s pocket, the man grabbed hold of his wrist.

“You little theif!” Viggo had said. “I shall turn you in and have you hanged!”

Orlando had never been so scared in his life.

“Please sir, don’t do that! I’m sorry I tried to steal, and I know it’s wrong. But there’s no job for a boy like me, and my older sister is ill, so she can’t work neither. Our parents is dead and…please sir! We have to eat!” The grubby little Orlando was weeping as Viggo held him up by his scrawny wrists.

“You’re a filthy, lying little brat. You probably don’t even have a sister, and it was probably your parents that sent you out here to pick pockets in the first place.”

“Im not lying, sir. I swear! I can take you to where we live, and then you can see!” True to his word, Orlando had lead Viggo to an abandoned corner of a half-demolished building and taken him inside. The tiny bed was occupied by a pale and coughing Samantha. There was no fireplace, no door, and the room was as cold as ice. Viggo had looked at the girl and could tell that she wouldn’t live much longer in these conditions. She had a month,maybe, not a second more.

“Your sister over there is going to die, street rat, unless she goes to a hospital.”

“Oh!” Orlando had started to weep again. “Oh but all of the convents are full, they won’t have her. I been trying forever, but nobody’ll take her in. Oh sir!” Orlando had fallen to his bare knees at Viggo’s feet. “You have to help her!”

“Daft little boy! Do you honestly think I’d want to help you after you tried to steal from me!”

“Please! I-I’ll pay you back somehow if you’ll get her a doctor now and save her. I swear I’ll find a way to get work.”

“Like you said before, brat, there’s no work for a boy so small and stupid.”

“Then…maybe I could work for you and pay off the debt that way? I promise to work real hard-”

“What would I need with a boy like you?”

“Please, sir, I don’t know but…but I’ll do anything you want, anything. I’ll be your humble slave for ever and ever if you’ll only get my sister to a hospital. Please, don’t let her die! She’s all I got left!”

Viggo had looked the little boy over as he knelt. Not much now…but in a couple of years he’d be quite tasty.

“Very well, boy. You have yourself a deal.”

And so Orlando tried to think of his sister when his master approached. He could suffer if it was for her sake…even though after Viggo had seen her into a hospital he had not allowed Orlando to see her any more, and would only tell him how she was doing if he was ‘being a good, obedient little boy’

Viggo snatched off the robe Orlando had thrown on to make the trip from his room to his master’s suite, and drank in the sight of his slave.

“I never get tired of looking at you,” Viggo said softly. He pulled Orlando towards him and turned him around. “Especially that sweet little arse. Your little lover didn’t even take you, did he?”

“No, he did not.”

“What a waste of money. But I don’t mind. You’ll be extra tight for me, won’t you, my pretty slut?” Viggo did not demand that Orlando respond to this humiliating question as he often did, and for that Orlando was glad. He did not think he would have been able to bear it. His master began groping his backside; prodding and squeezing it harshly, and giving it a few slaps every now and again. Orlando grew impossibly bitter at the rough handling, and could no longer hold his tongue

“Why don’t you just fuck me and have done with it?” he demanded coldly. Orlando was not usually a young man particularly given to swearing, or indeed to being rude in general, but he couldn’t handle Viggo at the moment. He was too hearbroken to play his role of the meek slave boy, ever indebted to his lord, and it was all Viggo’s fault.

“Is that what you want?” Viggo asked icily, yet obviously bemused. “Well I think I should rather have you suck my cock with that sassy little mouth of yours. Perhaps that will teach it not to speak with such impertinence.” He grabbed a handful of Orlando’s dark hair and pushed him onto his knees. Orlando undid the fastenings of Viggo’s breeches with his mouth, implementing just as much dexterity as anyone else’s fingers might have, and got to work.

He started the way his master liked it, burying his face in Viggo’s crotch and mouthing his heavy balls hungrily, licking the soft, salty flesh and then taking them completely into his mouth. Orlando continued this until Viggo intervened.

“Stop teasing, whore.” Orlando’s master took hold of his hair once again, this time to push him forward so that the cock was buried deep in his throat. The hesitation on Orlando's part was not bred from necessity. Orlando had instead waited because he knew that Viggo liked to control him. It was not for the slave to decide when he should take the master’s cock into his mouth. But now the master had decided it would please him to have Orlando suck his cock as best he could.

Orlando shut his eyes tight and imagined it was Heath to stop himself from gagging on its thickness.

Meanwhile, Viggo hept his hand on the back of Orlando’s head, and applied an excessive amount of pressure to it as he did so. Sometimes Orlando, whore that he was, still bitched about swallowing.

When Viggo shot his seed into Orlando’s mouth, Orlando drained the fluid completely, eyes still closed. Now that this was over though, he became paralyzed with fear. What did his master mean to do next? He found out as Viggo pulled him to his feet abruptly, only to push him back down to the floor roughly. Orlando didn’t dare move as he lay on his belly, simply waiting, and in a moment Viggo was on top of him, straddling him so that his loins rested heavily on Orlando’s buttocks. The courtesan began to whimper helplessly as his master began to thrust, making it a mock-rape, grinding Orlando’s crotch into the expensive oriental rug that adorned the hardwood floor of his suite.

“You love this, don’t you slut?” he asked as he laughed maniacally.

“No,” Orlando insisted weakly.

Viggo bent down and reached his hand under Orlando’s belly, squeezing his slave’s hardening flesh and laughing all the harder.

“Oh, but you do, and I love you all the more for it. You are delightful, did you know that, my little molly boy?” Viggo asked, kissing Orlando’s cheek almost sweetly.

“You remend me quite often, master.” Orlando replied respectfully, with a bitter smile. He wished his master had never discovered his abject desires. He wished he would go back to beating him, as he’d done when he was younger. Even if his master had to use the whip, he would rather take the lashes and be done with it. He didn’t know how his master’s cruelty could stir such desire in him. Surely there was something wrong with him. Surely he was sick. But whatever the cause, he began to swell without fail whenever Viggo was rough with him. Even sometimes when he’d been whipped, combined with thought’s of his master, his cock would start to dance. But at least then his back was always turned and Viggo could not see what his ministrations were doing.

“Well, no time for fun now. You have clients waiting.”

“Yes,” Orlando agreed. “Clients.” He picked up his robe and wrapped it around him half-heartedly. What did it matter if someone in the hall saw him naked? He couldn’t lock his door. He was sure they’d all seen at one point or another.

“But you must come to me tonight, sweet, when you’ve finished up.”

Orlando lacked the fortitude to make a response, and simply drudged back to his room.