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fellowshippers2006-07-24 12:00 pm
v-angelique.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2006-07-24 12:00 pm
Fic: Controlled 1/45
Title: Controlled (1/45)
Author: Viktoria Angelique
Email: viktoria_angelique@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17 for series, light R for this part
Pairing: Elijah/Viggo (coming up)
Warnings: BDSM, het this part (Elijah/OFC)
Disclaimer: If this were true the world might be a better place.
Feedback: I love it!
Summary: Finally! I’ve been working on this for the better part of the spring and summer, and more than two hundred pages and forty-five chapters later, it’s finished. This is an epic piece exploring the emotional side of a BDSM relationship. It covers the length of the filming period, and while some parts include graphic sex, there is nothing super-heavy or disturbing. Warnings will be included for each part. Posting will be on a regular Monday and Thursday schedule, which means it should be done by the New Year. Also, a big thanks for the several people who read the initial chapters and helped get me in the right direction with feedback, betas, and plot suggestions. Rose,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rutaari, stormatdusk, and rawiyaparand, I owe you guys!
Elijah didn’t ever feel weird about it, at least not at the beginning.
It was at the tender age of sixteen, or perhaps even sooner, when he first became conscious of this particular feature of his personality—a trait that would have immeasurable impact on the years to come.
Angela was the best friend a guy could ever have, especially a sensitive guy like Elijah. She was quiet in school, appeared a little dark with her dyed-black hair and Sylvia Plath paperbacks, and hid constantly behind a pair of thick-framed black glasses. Like Elijah himself, she appreciated the solitude of an evening spent in her bedroom, drowning out the real world beneath her headphones, and after several years of friendship they developed a deep understanding of each other. It was Angela that Elijah always looked forward to seeing after a long shoot, Angela that he would write long, slightly self-involved letters to when he was holed up in his room “studying,” and Angela that first found out about it.
The PC was a birthday present from her parents, received after months of good grades and begging, and she immediately put it to its most obvious use.
Sex.
“Elijah, darling, you would not believe who I found in a chat room last night…”
Angela had a somewhat endearing habit of speaking like a British movie star from the forties, and Elijah had never been one to deny her of it. Angela lived in a bit of a fantasy world, but then, Elijah was an actor, and who was he to refuse someone their fantasies?
The guy’s screen name, and the subject of much good-natured teasing on Elijah’s part, was LeatherDaddy75. Yes, 75, which meant that he was born in 1975, and was therefore twenty-two years old, practically ancient in the eyes of Angela and Elijah. LeatherDaddy, along with e-mail messages that would make a lesser woman blush (and certainly brought the colour to Elijah’s cheeks), sent a few useful links in Angela’s direction. And so, when Elijah was working on a film and ended up going to a branch library a few hours a week to do school work, he found himself viewing a few of these websites himself.
BDSM, he learned, was a more complex and well-thought out lifestyle than he ever could have dreamed of, full of terminology and accessories and even organizations with monthly meetings where one could go to learn about such a thing. Finally, he could put a name to the vague cravings and curiosities he had been a party to ever since he first figured out that holding his breath while simultaneously holding his dick could bring on a bit of a rush, and that the wax of a stray tea candle could be put to far more sinister purposes than originally intended.
With the curious excitement of any boy his age with a new interest and a seemingly endless plethora of resources dedicated to that interest, Elijah pored over website after website, sometimes with Angela and sometimes alone. He learned about fetishes, collars, bondage, whips, complicated ceremonies and more casual scening. He read the text of numerous debates on “How Far is Too Far?” and the finer points of formal address. Angela was only too happy to help him sort through this information, and so it was more of a mild surprise than a real shock when she suggested that perhaps they try a bit of their newfound knowledge out on each other.
When the time for the scene came, Elijah knew that he was the more sexually experienced of the two. Aside from a few fumbled attempts, he had had actual intercourse twice, and been on the receiving end of several blowjobs. Angela, feeling indulgent, didn’t even require that he have sex with her, respecting that they were simply friends trying out something new. Vague boundaries for the scene were laid out—it went as a given that Angela was the dominant and Elijah the submissive; Angela agreed not to inflict any real lasting pain on Elijah and not to go beyond oral sex in her suggestions; and Elijah chose his safeword.
“Pancake” not only was a word that was unlikely to come up during a sexual situation, but it reminded him instantly of his grandmother’s home cooking and was also likely to diminish any arousal that might blur for him the lines of acceptable pain and abuse. After all, who can really maintain a sufficient erection while thinking about one’s grandmother?
The scene itself, to Angela’s credit, was meticulously planned out. Elijah addressed her as “ma’am,” remained on his knees from beginning to end, and was punished for a bit of unnecessary exuberance with some light swats on his bare backside. Angela wore a pair of borrowed leather trousers with high heels, and she really was lovely, towering over him, her black hair untied and framing her face in seductive curls. Something, however, wasn’t exactly right.
Elijah wondered about it later, tossed and turned and tried to figure out the missing piece. After all, there was nowhere he could feel safer than under the control of his best friend, confidant and co-enthusiast. Angela was the one who had taught him that this world even existed, and she was by no means unattractive or bad at what she was doing. However, sitting obediently on his knees with his wrists bound behind his back, lapping enthusiastically at her clit, he felt very little sense of belonging. There was not an “ah-ha!” moment, and maybe there wasn’t supposed to be, but it remained unsettling.
He thought, one night, while he was pondering the scene for the fortieth time or so, that perhaps it was the lack of affection. Angela was a bit of a cold domme, effective but not very caring in the role. They didn’t kiss at all, and maybe that was the problem, but if Elijah really searched within himself he found that he didn’t want to kiss her. For one, that would take away the detached experimental nature of the scene, which was not something he wanted, but he also didn’t necessarily feel that he wanted the removal of that harsh element. What it was he wanted, he didn’t know for sure, but a relationship with Angela wasn’t it.
One scene was all they ever did together. Angela understood, or at least she said she did, and they stayed friends over the next year and a half, but it was still clear that they would never be as close as they once were. Elijah spent his time visiting websites more and more alone, and eventually they stopped talking about it. He vaguely missed the ability to confide in a friend on the topic, but he began more and more to realise. Angela had wanted a relationship, a real boyfriend-girlfriend hearts and flowers shindig, and by introducing him to this world, she had hoped to find something with him beyond friendship. Unfortunately for her, that just wasn’t Elijah’s desire, and so when the time came, he left for New Zealand to work on a new project with a quick kiss on the lips and a promise to write.
They never wrote.
Author: Viktoria Angelique
Email: viktoria_angelique@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17 for series, light R for this part
Pairing: Elijah/Viggo (coming up)
Warnings: BDSM, het this part (Elijah/OFC)
Disclaimer: If this were true the world might be a better place.
Feedback: I love it!
Summary: Finally! I’ve been working on this for the better part of the spring and summer, and more than two hundred pages and forty-five chapters later, it’s finished. This is an epic piece exploring the emotional side of a BDSM relationship. It covers the length of the filming period, and while some parts include graphic sex, there is nothing super-heavy or disturbing. Warnings will be included for each part. Posting will be on a regular Monday and Thursday schedule, which means it should be done by the New Year. Also, a big thanks for the several people who read the initial chapters and helped get me in the right direction with feedback, betas, and plot suggestions. Rose,
rutaari, stormatdusk, and rawiyaparand, I owe you guys!Elijah didn’t ever feel weird about it, at least not at the beginning.
It was at the tender age of sixteen, or perhaps even sooner, when he first became conscious of this particular feature of his personality—a trait that would have immeasurable impact on the years to come.
Angela was the best friend a guy could ever have, especially a sensitive guy like Elijah. She was quiet in school, appeared a little dark with her dyed-black hair and Sylvia Plath paperbacks, and hid constantly behind a pair of thick-framed black glasses. Like Elijah himself, she appreciated the solitude of an evening spent in her bedroom, drowning out the real world beneath her headphones, and after several years of friendship they developed a deep understanding of each other. It was Angela that Elijah always looked forward to seeing after a long shoot, Angela that he would write long, slightly self-involved letters to when he was holed up in his room “studying,” and Angela that first found out about it.
The PC was a birthday present from her parents, received after months of good grades and begging, and she immediately put it to its most obvious use.
Sex.
“Elijah, darling, you would not believe who I found in a chat room last night…”
Angela had a somewhat endearing habit of speaking like a British movie star from the forties, and Elijah had never been one to deny her of it. Angela lived in a bit of a fantasy world, but then, Elijah was an actor, and who was he to refuse someone their fantasies?
The guy’s screen name, and the subject of much good-natured teasing on Elijah’s part, was LeatherDaddy75. Yes, 75, which meant that he was born in 1975, and was therefore twenty-two years old, practically ancient in the eyes of Angela and Elijah. LeatherDaddy, along with e-mail messages that would make a lesser woman blush (and certainly brought the colour to Elijah’s cheeks), sent a few useful links in Angela’s direction. And so, when Elijah was working on a film and ended up going to a branch library a few hours a week to do school work, he found himself viewing a few of these websites himself.
BDSM, he learned, was a more complex and well-thought out lifestyle than he ever could have dreamed of, full of terminology and accessories and even organizations with monthly meetings where one could go to learn about such a thing. Finally, he could put a name to the vague cravings and curiosities he had been a party to ever since he first figured out that holding his breath while simultaneously holding his dick could bring on a bit of a rush, and that the wax of a stray tea candle could be put to far more sinister purposes than originally intended.
With the curious excitement of any boy his age with a new interest and a seemingly endless plethora of resources dedicated to that interest, Elijah pored over website after website, sometimes with Angela and sometimes alone. He learned about fetishes, collars, bondage, whips, complicated ceremonies and more casual scening. He read the text of numerous debates on “How Far is Too Far?” and the finer points of formal address. Angela was only too happy to help him sort through this information, and so it was more of a mild surprise than a real shock when she suggested that perhaps they try a bit of their newfound knowledge out on each other.
When the time for the scene came, Elijah knew that he was the more sexually experienced of the two. Aside from a few fumbled attempts, he had had actual intercourse twice, and been on the receiving end of several blowjobs. Angela, feeling indulgent, didn’t even require that he have sex with her, respecting that they were simply friends trying out something new. Vague boundaries for the scene were laid out—it went as a given that Angela was the dominant and Elijah the submissive; Angela agreed not to inflict any real lasting pain on Elijah and not to go beyond oral sex in her suggestions; and Elijah chose his safeword.
“Pancake” not only was a word that was unlikely to come up during a sexual situation, but it reminded him instantly of his grandmother’s home cooking and was also likely to diminish any arousal that might blur for him the lines of acceptable pain and abuse. After all, who can really maintain a sufficient erection while thinking about one’s grandmother?
The scene itself, to Angela’s credit, was meticulously planned out. Elijah addressed her as “ma’am,” remained on his knees from beginning to end, and was punished for a bit of unnecessary exuberance with some light swats on his bare backside. Angela wore a pair of borrowed leather trousers with high heels, and she really was lovely, towering over him, her black hair untied and framing her face in seductive curls. Something, however, wasn’t exactly right.
Elijah wondered about it later, tossed and turned and tried to figure out the missing piece. After all, there was nowhere he could feel safer than under the control of his best friend, confidant and co-enthusiast. Angela was the one who had taught him that this world even existed, and she was by no means unattractive or bad at what she was doing. However, sitting obediently on his knees with his wrists bound behind his back, lapping enthusiastically at her clit, he felt very little sense of belonging. There was not an “ah-ha!” moment, and maybe there wasn’t supposed to be, but it remained unsettling.
He thought, one night, while he was pondering the scene for the fortieth time or so, that perhaps it was the lack of affection. Angela was a bit of a cold domme, effective but not very caring in the role. They didn’t kiss at all, and maybe that was the problem, but if Elijah really searched within himself he found that he didn’t want to kiss her. For one, that would take away the detached experimental nature of the scene, which was not something he wanted, but he also didn’t necessarily feel that he wanted the removal of that harsh element. What it was he wanted, he didn’t know for sure, but a relationship with Angela wasn’t it.
One scene was all they ever did together. Angela understood, or at least she said she did, and they stayed friends over the next year and a half, but it was still clear that they would never be as close as they once were. Elijah spent his time visiting websites more and more alone, and eventually they stopped talking about it. He vaguely missed the ability to confide in a friend on the topic, but he began more and more to realise. Angela had wanted a relationship, a real boyfriend-girlfriend hearts and flowers shindig, and by introducing him to this world, she had hoped to find something with him beyond friendship. Unfortunately for her, that just wasn’t Elijah’s desire, and so when the time came, he left for New Zealand to work on a new project with a quick kiss on the lips and a promise to write.
They never wrote.
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So I shall be looking forward to future postings - all 45 of them.
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I really looking forward to read this!!!
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I cannot wait to see how the story progresses! =D
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Very well written!
I look forward to the next chapter.
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