The Tax Man

The Tax Man

Posted: May 2005
Title: The Tax Man
Author: Lostiawen
Fandom: Real Person Fiction
Type: RPS
Characters: Orlando/Viggo
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, none of this really happened. The author is not associated with or is implying anything about the sexual preferences or the lives of the people depicted within.
Warnings: AU, PWP, bondage, CBT (cock and ball torture), no real fucking, fic is a bit rough around the edges.
Author's Notes: This one is all Salix's fault. She said something that spawned this bunny...and it had to do with taxes. Anyway, many pardons for the lack of polish, but I wanted to get this out on tax day. Hope it provides some amusement for those of you who are struggling with the evil IRS forms.

Summary: It's tax time, and Orli needs an accountant.

*****

Butterflies filled Orlando's stomach as he stood outside the door. He kicked himself for feeling queasy, all of his friends had highly recommended this bloke as an accountant, and he was reassured multiple times that the guy wouldn't raise an eyebrow over Orli's chosen profession.

Still, Orlando had encountered so much negative reaction when people found out what he did for a living that he still hesitated at the door.

"Fuck, stop being such a git," he muttered before he turned the knob.

He practically blundered into the desk that was scant centimeters away from the door. "Oh, I'm sorry," the receptionist said. "We don't really have a lot of room here."

Orli smiled at her. She looked very efficient and no-nonsense. Her hairstyle and clothes were somewhat dressy, but not overly so -- just enough to be professional and practical at the same time.

"I have an appointment to see Viggo Mortensen at one o'clock," he said.

She nodded and disappeared through another door. After a few moments, she emerged and said, "Viggo will see you now. Will you need anything else? I need to run an errand for him and I won't be around."

"Um, no...I'll be fine," Orli replied. The receptionist waved and let herself out. Once she left, Orlando's gut clenched again, and he wondered if everyone was taking the piss about Viggo. He still remembered the nightmare tales from Eric about the weirdnesses in Yankee tax law; and especially about accountants. The CPA Eric hired had been a nerd with huge spots that yabbered endlessly about AMT, marginal tax rates, and acquisition indebtedness. Orli prayed that this Viggo bloke would be at least somewhat cute.

Gulping, Orlando stepped in, preparing himself for the worst. His jaw dropped when he saw the gorgeous, sandy-haired man behind the desk. He was wearing a posh suit, but unlike most accountants, it was rumpled slightly. His tie was also loosely knotted, giving him a bit of an unkempt appearance.

"Hello, I'm Viggo," he said in a deep rasp. He gestured at the salad and the roll of bread in front of him. "I hope you don't mind. My last client ran over so I didn't have time to eat lunch."

"Um...no...that's okay," Orlando said. Now he cursed himself for being granted too much of a good thing. Viggo just oozed sex, and Orlando was having a hard time keeping his cock down.

He plopped down in a nearby chair and crossed his legs, hoping to shield his hardening erection from view.

"All right," Viggo said. "What do you need me to do?"

Orlando stifled the urge to answer, "My arse, please." Instead, he rummaged in his backpack. "Erm, I'm self-employed, and I've never been good with numbers. This is like the first year I've actually earned enough to have to worry about taxes."

Viggo munched on his food and replied, "What type of business do you run?"

Orlando blushed crimson. "Um...I'm a...specialized consultant."

He winced at the tremor in his voice. Normally, he was able to lie without batting an eyelash about what he did, but something about Viggo unnerved him. Maybe it was that piercing stare he had. Or that sexy as hell body. Orlando didn't have a head for maths, but he was very, very good at spatial reconstruction; and that skill was telling him that Viggo was hiding quite a trouser snake underneath that suit.

Annoyed with his pervy thoughts, Orlando looked around the office to distract himself. It was small, and a bit cluttered. Still, there was enough room for a large desk, and a fairly fancy looking computer. It had one of those new flat screens, but the mouse looked more like a video game joystick. The keyboard was also very strange; it seemed to be divided into sections, and the keys were shaped oddly -- they were sunken in, forming a small well in the middle.

Shaking his head, Orlando examined the bookcase with a veritable plethora of books. He frowned, mixed in with the usual boring accounting books, he noticed that some of the titles on the shelf dealt with photography and painting.

Orlando also noticed that Viggo had recently been to the cleaners -- he saw several hangers poking out through the top of a black plastic bag on a hook next to the bookcase. The bag had caught on something, and a series of clothespins held the hole closed.

Orlando 's eyes wandered back to that chiseled face, and he swallowed to moisten his dry throat. How could an accountant be so fucking sexy?

Viggo seemed oblivious to the effect he was having on Orlando. "Do you have copies of your invoices?" he asked.

"Um...I have receipts," Orli said, pulling out the small box where he always stashed the credit card transactions from his clients. "I hope it's okay that they're not in order...they, um, sometimes disappear in various places around the room, or I forget to put them in the box until months later, or I stuffed them in a drawer with my other shit..." He bit his lip. Good move, Bloom. Swear like a sailor and babble in front of the guy who's going to keep you out of trouble with the government.

"I see," Viggo said in a mellow voice. "Did you spend any money this year on equipment?"

"Heaps of it," Orli said, hoping that Viggo wouldn't ask him about specifics.

"Do you have the receipts for your purchases?"

Orli felt his cheeks burning again and cursed. Why was he acting like a schoolgirl? "Yeah...but they're still in my house. Are they important?"

"If you want to get deductions, yes," Viggo said. He thumbed through the credit card receipts. "Could you please bring them in tomorrow?"

"But I have to meet a client!" Orli burst out. "He's going to keep me busy all day." He bit his lip, mortified that he had even mentioned that much to Viggo.

Again, Viggo seemed oblivious. " Orlando...did you set aside anything for taxes?"

"Uh...no. Should I?"

Viggo said mildly, "Perhaps. By my initial estimation, you owe at least $4000."

"$4000!" Orli squeaked. "I barely have enough money to buy food with! Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Viggo said.

Orlando said, "Look, can't you, like, do something creative? I don't have that kind of cash." He looking at Viggo with pleading eyes.

Viggo frowned. "Are you asking me to break the law?"

Orlando leaned forward and purred, "I'll make it worth your while. I'm very talented."

He gasped when Viggo grabbed him by his t-shirt and flung him onto the desk, scattering papers everywhere. "What's your safeword?" Viggo asked.

Orlando gawped. "You know what a safeword is?"

"Answer me!" Viggo barked, seizing Orli's curls and pulling his head back.

Orlando felt his entire body go weak at the commanding tone. "Pirate," he whispered.

"Good," Viggo said, flipping Orli over. He pulled off his tie and fastened one end around Orlando's wrists, knotting it securely.

Orlando giggled, "Christ, you've done this before."

"No more backtalk out of you," Viggo growled, pinching Orlando's nipple and causing him to yelp. He pushed the other end of the tie through the hole in his desk for the computer cables. "'Specialized consultant', my ass. You're a professional sub. Sean's a friend of mine, and he told me about you."

Sean was Orli's best customer, and the person who first recommended Viggo. Orli was definitely going to have a word with the cunt afterward.

His thoughts of revenge dissolved when he saw Viggo walking over to the bookcase, pausing in front of his laundry from the dry cleaners. As Orli watched, Viggo pulled out a couple of neckties. Viggo then sauntered back to the desk, pausing to divest Orli of his shoes and socks. Once they were off, Viggo tugged the zipper down on Orli's jeans, freeing his semi-hard cock.

"I should have known that you were going commando. You're such a slut," Viggo said in a throaty rasp. The grate in his voice caused Orli to shiver. The promise of the dangerous and forbidden in those husky tones shot straight to Orli's groin.

"I am," he whimpered, spreading his legs open. "Do what you want to me."

Viggo laughed with amusement. "Oh no, you're not getting off that easily." He removed Orli's trousers none too gently and tied Orli's ankles to the legs of his desk. Orlando made a small noise in his throat as he was spread open, leaving him vulnerable to Viggo's desires.

"I'm going to have a little fun, first," Viggo purred, cupping the heavy sacs between Orli's legs.

Orlando writhed as Viggo slowly rolled his bollocks, feeling his cock spring to full attention. He watched, hypnotized, as Viggo bent down, running a hot tongue around the base of his erection.

Moaning, Orlando thrust his hips upward, craving more stimulation. Viggo continued to torment him, tracing languid circles around his aching cock, and tugging on his sacs. Prickles traveled through Orli's skin, and moisture welled from the tip of his shaft. He bucked again, wordlessly begging for more.

He bit his lip when the moist warmth left his needy cock; but any protests died on his lips when Viggo pushed up his t-shirt, exposing his smooth chest to the cool air. He cried out when Viggo's long tongue snaked out to lazily flick over his nipple.

"So sensitive," Viggo murmured, tugging on a hard peak with his teeth. He peered closely. "You're normally pierced?"

Orlando nodded. "I took the chain out because I thought you were vanilla." He sucked in a breath when Viggo pinched his nipple again, skillfully applying just enough pressure to skate the boundary between pleasure and pain. Orlando moaned, twisting against his restraints as a boundless hunger was awakened within him.

"You assumed wrong," Viggo said, before he rose off the desk. He strolled back to the bookcase, pausing in front of his laundry again.

Viggo turned, and fixed his predatory gaze on Orlando as he deliberately plucked a clothespin off of the plastic bag. Orlando 's heart skipped a beat, and Viggo repeated the motion, causing Orli's pulse to race some more.

Holding Orli's gaze, Viggo continued to remove the pins, keeping his pace slow. Orlando could practically taste the tension in the air, and he quivered in anticipation of what was to come next.

Once Viggo was done, he returned to Orlando's side, prowling with a slow, menacing gait. His trousers did nothing to disguise his prominent erection, tenting so visibly that Orlando ached to wrap his lips around the hard column and suck it down his throat.

"You have some gall," Viggo snarled, yanking Orli's head back by his hair. "You think that you can just sashay in here, shake that pert little ass of yours, and expect me to commit a federal offense?"

Orlando whimpered when Viggo squeezed his nipple to punctuate his sentence.
"Well?" Viggo barked.

"T-thought it was worth a try," Orlando said. He gasped when he felt a hard pinch followed by a small bite. Viggo had fastened a clothespin onto his nipple. Orlando squirmed; the spring on the clothespin had been loosened, so if he could just endure the initial pressure...soon enough, he sighed as the pain faded into a pleasant buzz.

"Is that the worse you can do?" he said cheekily. "This is pretty tame."

He squeaked when he felt a clothespin being fastened onto one side of his bollocks. Orlando wriggled, inadvertently brushing the wooden ends against his thigh. The motion sent another zing of pain through him, but it was soon replaced by a several warm tingles. He moaned as sensation flooded through his body.

"Not so mouthy now, are you?" Viggo said in a rough voice. "I should punish you for that smartassed attitude."

"No...please stop," Orlando whispered, hoping for exactly the opposite. His wish was granted, as Viggo fastened another clothespin right next to the first one on his sacs.

A jolt crackled through Orli's body, much more intense than the first. He whimpered, feeling the beginnings of the heady rush he was so addicted to. A third, then a fourth clothespin was added. Sparks were now dancing through his body, sending his head spinning. Viggo continued to add more, not stopping until a small circle of clothespins was crowning Orli's bollocks.

Pre-come was dribbling out of Orlando's cock in a steady stream. He was climbing high now, no longer feeling the pressure at all.

Viggo said, "You're enjoying yourself too much." His fingers stroked the end of one of the pins, as if he were admiring his handiwork. His voice lowered into a deep rumble. "Now you'll pay," he growled.

White light flared in Orli's eyes as Viggo removed a clothespin. He shrieked at the top of his lungs, barely having time to draw another breath before another was unclamped. He thrashed like a wildcat, every muscle straining against his bonds as Viggo pulled the pins off.

When the last clothespin was snapped off, Orlando's stimulated nerves went into hyperdrive, suddenly flooding his system with wave after wave of euphoria. He felt like he had just mainlined adrenaline, wailing as everything exploded in a heady rush that traveled through every single millimeter of his being. He soared higher and higher, never wanting it to end. His skin was electrified -- the slightest breath, the lightest touch sent jolts of pure bliss through the entire length of his body.

He almost flew off the desk when he felt Viggo's hand around his cock. The rapid strokes were too much and he screamed, feeling reality shatter around him as all of his senses exploded in a supernova of bright light.

Everything went dark after that, and Orlando drifted in the comforting blackness for a long time before he came back to himself. He was still floating when he peeled his eyes open, finding himself looking directly up at Viggo's smiling face.

"Man," he murmured. "That was fantastic."

Viggo grinned from ear to ear. "Sean was right, you're the best I've ever seen."

Orlando blushed when he saw the large, wet stain on the crotch of Viggo's trousers. "Oh fuck, did I cause that?"

Viggo chuckled. "You should be flattered. I haven't creamed my pants since I was a teenager." He looked down and shrugged. "I'll write it off as a deduction."

"I knew you'd figure something out," Orlando said, noticing for the first time that he had been untied and cleaned up. "Wow...thanks."

"No problem. However, these were *very* expensive pants, and you're going to have to make it up to me somehow."

Orlando batted his eyelashes. "Hmm, how about some barter? I could trade services with you."

Viggo gathered him into a bear hug. "Depends...how long of a session do I get gratis?" he purred.

Orlando melted against him. "You can have anything you want, as long I don't ever have to touch my sodding taxes."

"You have a deal."

Orlando beamed. Maybe accountants weren't so bad, after all.

*****

THE END

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Lostiawen