Viggo waved the hand holding a thick piece of brown bread toast dripping with honey to attract the attention of Sean, who was scooping Rice Krispies blindly into his face as he stared disgustedly at the back page of the Tuesday Sportsrag.
"Hey, Hmmm Mm've decided. Mm not gonna have " another big bite, "a cake this year, I want something like... oh, you do look so cute with Rice Krispies stuck on your chin like that Sean. Like jelly and 'mange and - anyway not cake! D'you hear - no cake!"
Sean looked up, wiped a big thumb over his chin, capturing the escaping Krispies and shooing them into his mouth.
"Wossat - not a Cake? But you love cake. You like picking all those rosebuds offa Cake. And those sugary violets are your Specials.” He shovelled another spoonful of Krispies, ” Wossamarrer wiv yer? Hey, yer not sickening fer sommat eh?"
He regarded his love, hair sticking every which way because he hadn't combed it flat after their shower, and his lovely soft mobile lips compressing, loosing, curling, bending around the last biteful of toast noisily sucking the sticky fingers. Sean never tired of watching Viggo at any moment, whether he was eating, sleeping, pissing, or scratching... Yawning was a bit scary though because his mouth seemed to grow and grow. Most things Viggo did were beautiful, and perfect, and this morning had been the usual perfect. He reminded himself to change the sheets again.
Viggo repeated, his mouth washed after his swallow of mate,
"I said, you cloth-eared sluggard, I don't want a Birthday Cake this year, even if you insist on making it. I want a different sort of Tea Party. I want tooters and funny hats and stuff. Anyway, I'll sort out what I want, and make it a surprise for you. We'll have tarts, Jam tarts, and cream buns and jellies and ice cream and stuff, and we'll play Grandmother’s Footsteps or something. I want a different sorta party. A fun party!"
Sean grunted. He was hurt. "I thought you liked our parties, we always have fun!! I know its not a lot different from the fun we have most days, but at least I dressed up last year, and you enjoyed that! Even iff'n I did look a right twat in high-heels and feather boa."
He shovelled the last Krispie into his mouth, reached for the last piece of toast, and was silenced for a while. VIggo went off into a mind-muse.
The following days went along quite normally, Sean had to make several voice-over recordings at the studio. Viggo tried to cook, and seemed to be not terribly succesful as he had had to ask Mrs. Chay to come in and help him out. She seemed to leave with the coolbox carried with much care to her car, but usually when Sean was out of sight.
The afternoon of the day before VIggo's birthday 'His 2lst and a bit'’ he insisted, not any other number, Sean had locked himself in the bedroom, and indulged himself in practising wrapping Viggo's birthday present.
He had found a wonderful silk ribbon at the florists, that was stiff enough to stay in a pronounced bow, but not stiff enough to prickle anything. He had taken the whole reel of fifteen yards, and so could practice until he could tie a perfect bow standing proud above his cock, which peeped coyly out under the centre knot.
He had also found at the florists a box of delightful golden bells, strung from ribbons, that he purchased, giggling. So the bells were tied securely around the neck of his testicles, enabling them to dangle towards his knees beneath The Bow, scarlet and totally tarty.
Sean paraded himself up and down before the full-length mirror, hands on hips, posing. Full-frontal, profile left, then profile right. He trotted up and down. He sat, legs apart on the bed edge, listening to the gentle chiming of the golden bells every time he moved, when he laughed, when he lifted the bells and let them drop as he imagined how VIggo would be delicately playing, admiring.
Sean was happy with Viggo's Birthday Present. He guessed Viggo would also enjoy the unwrapping, as would he. The very, very large card he hid under the towels in the airing cupboard.
The Birthday Day arrived. Viggo woke.
He thought ’Its a bit dark, wossa time?’ and felt out for the bedside clock, His hands wouldn't move, they seemed to be secured together with something soft and not loose. ‘Oh God, its bloody Sean again.’
“You’re into that Blindfold Game again. I'm not going to guess if you’re hot or cold, or high or low, its MY BIRTHDAY TODAY!"
Sean's voice came to reassure his beloved that he was not going to play silly Blindfold Games, he just wanted to make sure Viggo had a lovely surprise when Sean gave him his present.
"Pull the cord beside your right ear, and my best Nortickle Nots will all come unravelled. You are not to take off the blindfold just immediately though, count to ten slowly first. Are you ready?"
Viggo pulled, and the nautical knots did disintegrate as Sean had promised and his hands were free. He prepared the blindfold, and began counting.
"One, Two, Three... Eight… Nine, and Ten!" and pulled the velvet from his eyes.
He gasped with disbelief. There was Sean, balanced on the bedroom chair, dressed in a pair of huge, white, feathered wings, a halo slipping over one eye, and his cock, erect, purple and dribbling, dressed in the tartiest, most scarlet, enormous bow Viggo had ever seen. Beneath the chair was a superfluous card stating the obvious, but Viggo was so pleased to read it in sequined capitals.
"I LOVE YOU TO PEECES. HAPPY 21st. from your Everloving SEAN "
Viggo's eyes widened as he sat up in bed and clapped his hands. The bells tinkled, chimed and trilled as Sean climbed down from the chair, and stood beside the bed. The Bow was just at eye-level. Viggo looked up and loved this Angel to bits. but he was going to refuse Its obviously begging request just the same. Squatting crosslegged, because his cock was too big to sit comfortably otherwise, he motioned the Angel away until it stood in the centre of the bedroom. Then he demanded,
"Dance. Dance for me now. Dance you daft, beautiful, tinkling,sexy bugger, DANCE!"
Sean danced. He flung his hands above his head. He fandagoed, he pirouetted, he tango'd, he plie'd en jetee, and all the time the wings waved, bells tinkled, and his purple-rose Dingaling dived, ducked and danced with him. Finally, he ran out of breath. He huffed to a halt in front of a highly aroused Viggo, and demanded in a very non-angelic voice,
"Right you sod, now I've made a right fucking fool of meself, you can give me the biggest blow-job you have ever done. I deserve it! Get sucking!"
Viggo obeyed, but not in haste. The ribbons came undone, slipping smoothly away from themselves, until the full glory of Sean M. Bean was revealed. The cluster of golden bells was allowed to tinkle their way across Viggo’s feet, up his own dribbling stiffness, to hang around Viggo’s neck, and tinkled gently, incessantly, teasingly, as Viggo's head moved back and forth, and up and down, and in and out. They were unheard at the finale, but then the 1812 Overture may have been mute also. Sean is a noisy bugger when he comes, but so is Viggo.
Breakfast was so much later it became lunch. Then the after-lunch slid gently past in the unwrapping of other little parcels and goodies from the girls, which Viggo enjoyed as they were very imaginative. The present from his Agent pleased him, a nice juicy contract for a film he badly wanted to make. Mrs Chay had sent a card with a mysterious note inside that read "At Five of the Clock. switch off the alarm". Viggo chortled on reading that, and glanced at the clock. Another good two hours yet, one of which they spent curled like tired puppies on the sofa, listening to 'Sounds of the Sixties' on the hifi.
Viggo stirred. "Hey matey, its Teatime. I want my tea. and Mrs. Chay will be bringing it at five oclock. Get you up, and put on a robe while she's here." Sean grunted, but did as he was told. Mrs. Chay was very patient, and despite being from the Indian sub-continent, very broad-minded, but a little decorum was courteous.
He was banished to remain in the sitting-room. He was ordered not to enter the dining room on pain of death while Viggo and Mrs. Chay prepared the Tea. Laughter and sounds of solid kissing as Mrs. Chay left, the alarm being switched back on, and Viggo returned.
"Right then. Teatime. Come!" He led the way into the dining room. Viggo insisted that Sean lay down, full length on the white sheet that covered the dining table. Sean giggled, and did so. His hands were secured, stretched above his head to the two corner legs of the table, and his ankles to the other two.
"Comfortable there, eh?" asked Viggo, "because you'll be there a while yet."
Sean felt very comfortable for now, but a little corner of his mind began to nibble a question. 'For a while... ' He relaxed and thought sweet thoughts about Viggo as that birthday person donned a Chef's toque, white wellington boots and tied a white apron beneath his 'tackle' so that it lay, defined and delicious, against the pristine background.
Viggo pushed the tea-trolley in, rolled it to the side of the table, and proceeded with great relish to display its contents. Which contents were wobbly, coloured and multiple. Viggo took the first, a raspberry red dome and slid it from the plate on to the centre of Sean's chest. It was COLD!
Sean yelped. Viggo looked up, frowned and reached under the trolley. Pulled up a gag, the strawberry tasting one he knew Sean enjoyed, and applied it firmly in place.
"There must be quiet while I concentrate - I am a Genius, A MAD GENIUS....hehe hehehe heh" and gave a theatrically mad laugh.
The Tangerine jelly was equally cold, and it slid with a satisfying 'PLOP' on to the middle of Sean's belly. Sean screamed behind the gag. It was in the shape of a ring, and the hollow centre enabled Viggo to view Sean's tidy little belly-button, and ensure the jelly was correctly in place. The voice from the gag gargled, grunted, even began whining.
A slather of Lemon jelly froth imitated the golden curls that usually defined the lower part of Sean‘s body, and down on each exposed inner thigh were five carefully positioned Lime-green truncated Towers of Pisa.
"Keep still. You will be punished if one should fall, cos if One Green Pisa should accidentally fall, there'll be Nine Purple Pisas to prop up the wall... or something like that. Keep Still!" Sean was crying, his eyes weeping tears of laughter, frustration, and fear.
Viggo stood back, hands on his hips, and studied his work. Tipping his toque further back, his tongue crept out, and a particularly evil look suffused the beloved face. Sean tried to shrink. This lark with jellies was more than enough, he had tickling sensations as the melting undersides dribbled slowly down his ribs, across his belly and pooled stickily in the hollows before his hipbones. He tickled. All over. He couldn't beg, he was gagged, and he now hated the taste of strawberries. He tried snorting down his chest to stop this bloody red thing wobbling itself in his face every time he breathed in. Or out. Or screamed behind the gag. Viggo scratched his chest, then his belly, and waved his Willy at Sean. Just smiling. Nothing unpleasant there - yet!
He left the room. Sean was really crying now. He wanted this damn fool game to stop. He loved jelly, he could bath in the bloody stuff, and could eat it with ice cream until fucking cows... "Oh Noooo oh No, No, oh NO, NO, NO! Not ice cream - oh, noo… nooooo!"
Viggo backed into the room holding something to his chest. He wiggled his ass at Sean, and made an obscene hand-gesture between his legs.
Turning, he showed Sean the canister he was carrying. It was a catering sized can of pressurized cream. A very large Catering Size Can. Approaching the table, he waved the container above Sean's begging eyes.
"Pretty Can - holds lots and lots of good thick fluffy cream, Sean.You like cream, don't you, and I like cream, and we like licking it off each other don't we, Sean?" He prepared the can. "Shall we see where cream can go with all this delicious wobbly jelly you are so willingly holding for me?" He gave a preparatory squirt. Licked the result off the end of the nozzle and smiled. "Perfect. Here we go then."
Squirt into the throat dimple, sqttt. sqttt on each shoulder top. A smile down at Sean, who closed his eyes, and resolved not to scream again, if that was what this evil, sick, cruel, torturing, sick-minded...
He felt his nose being kissed, and opened his eyes, hoping for relief, a softening of the intentions... No way. no such luck. HIs nose was kissed again, licked and then Sean's eyes crossed as a large white Everest of fluff was squirrttttted to replace the kisses.
"Most satisfactory, most indeed..." murmured Viggo.
He moved lower down the side of the table. Sqiiitttttt., and Sean's pectoral muscle twitched in response as his nipple felt the caress of soft cream. Viggo marched round to the other side. paused, and squuiiirrtttt on to the other nipple. Ten little sqts. sqts. around the base of the red jelly still wobbling, slipping just a touch sideways on Sean's chest.
"Pretty" smiled Viggo. "Very tasteful"
"Now... " His eyes alighted on Sean's arm, sweating gently with his desperate heavings, and a full, sadistical grin stuck on Viggo’s face. Sean whimpered. He whimpered! He was terrified. He could find no other word for it, he was terrified.
Viggo leant above him. "You require an explanation, don't you? Do you think this is going to get any easier? Because it isn't. The worst is yet to come, you whisker-tearing, wax-wielding monster. I haven't forgotten that afternoon when you said you'd get me whiskers off for the film. You didn't say you were going to skin me alive. You didn’t say you would slather me with hot wax. You damn nearly killed Willy here. He shrank so much out of fear I thought I'd never find him again.”
“ You enjoyed it. You know you did. You sadistic, sex-mad, son-of-a-black-hearted Yorkshire Ripper. The way you tore that wax offa me I will NEVER forget. The cheer you raised, the shout of sheer power, as you gave me the Pull of the Thousand Deaths. Well. This is VIggo's Revenge. I am going to tickle you to death, and I am going to torture you with soft, sweet, nothings, like fluffy creams, and slippery, smooth, slidey jellies and I am going to GET MY OWN BACK! Start praying Sean, I am having a wonderful Birthday Tea!"
Viggo pulled his toque dead straight on his head, stepped forward, aimed, and fired. SQUUUIIIRRTTTT and filled Sean's right armpit with Chantilly Cream. Sean screamed. A high, thin scream that shook the chandelier, shivering the crystals. Sweat broke out all over his body, the jellies started slipping, the cream on his left niipple ran down melting into his ribs. Sean sobbed. Viggo moved round to the other side of the table. Squirrted again. The other armpit filled. Sean just shook. His whole body shivered as if with the ague, his eyes tried peering round the saddening pile of Everest on his nose. failed and closed.
Viggo suddenly felt very sad. He had planned further atrocities, but he began to realise that he could actually tickle Sean Bean to death if he wasn't careful. He had been planning on filling that delicious tangerine ring on that taut quivering belly with passionfruit sorbet, but decided,
"Enough is enough. OK,Sean. I’ll stop now, it’s all right now, love. "
He stepped forward, licked the slipping cream from Sean's nipple, and removed the gag. Sean sobbed, helplessly.
"Don't tickle me any more, please, please, Vigs, I love you but I'm begiinning to hate you, pleeeeeese."
Viggo undid the velvet ropes holding Sean's arms up, and lowered them, squishing out the cream like a cream bun being bitten injudiciously. His hands slid down the chest, swiping the red jelly into the tangerine wobbler, then off the cold shivering belly, kissed it. Sucked on the softened nipples, and freed the twitching thighs from the toppled Towers of Pisa.
He helped his sobbing, scratching lover into the bathroom, switched on the taps, and lowered him gently into the warm water, climbed in beside him. He held his dearest friend, his love, his life, and his greatest fun person ever, as close to his heart as he could pull him. Kissing his ears, his neck, his head, his hair, his eyes...
"Happy Birthday, Viggo" came a soft choked whisper from somewhere near his neck. "You fucking sadistic sod, I do love you."
Summary: Viggo doesn’t want cake for his Birthday, he wants something else!
Rated: NC-17
Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo
Warnings: NoneChallenges:
Series: NoneChapters: 1 Completed: Yes
Word count: 2918 Read: 1558
Published: 03 Sep 2011 Updated: 03 Sep 2011
Story Notes:
This does include a form of torture, but it is meant to be humourous and is NOT unpleasant I hope.