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monaboyd Mar. 19th, 2004 05:25 pm)
lord-alexander.livejournal.com posting in monaboyd Mar. 19th, 2004 05:25 pm)Title: Sonne
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lord_alexander
Fandom: LOTR RPS
Pairing: Billy/Dom
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: Not mine, alas, though I could be Eddie Izzard and claim them with a flag. But not. Unless it was a small sticky flag. No piercing of them allowed, yes, I know, it damages the rental value.
Notes: This is an short and unashamedly songficcish fic, to Rammstein's Sonne, the reason why becomes very apparent. Let's just say that Disney's Snow White spanking small German dwarves is good for plot bunnies. And hence why there's a wee bit of spanking in here, and cross-dressing. Hurrah! This is so ridiculously tongue-in-cheek, I can't tell you. But lyrics of the English translation can be found here.sunset_mog's fault.
Dom hated to admit to himself that this particular music video did interesting things to the elasticity of his underpants, but it did. It was a pathetic thing to do, to get all squirmy and hard over this, but once he heard the guitars kick in, even in a pub, or on the radio, his over excited penis would spring to attention and start dancing along to the music.
It was like one of those plants he used to have as a kid, those plastic jiving flowers with the sunglasses that always started to bop when it was put next to the stereo.
Maybe his cock was battery-controlled?
No, it was Rammstein controlled, the way it perked up. Of all the music videos in all the world and of all the songs, it had to be the German stompy rock that got him, didn't it?
On the telly, there were seven dwarves using pneumatic drills to get at coal, each of them covered in black dust, muscles shining and shuddering at the pounding (steady, he thought), those stupid hats that looked like ducks' bills on their heads. Okay, it was bad. Getting turned on by this was just the first slippery step to the slope where eventually being flagellated by leather clad nuns with liquorice bootlaces, while the Pope reads Jackie Collins aloud and thirteen leprechauns with strap ons dance the merengue on his really cool hat wouldn't be weird enough.
"Hier kommt die Sonne!" Dom sang, rather joyously, pushing himself off the settee to wiggle his hips in time to the music, which made him sway rather alarmingly. At the second time the grubby Germans told him that yes, the sun was coming, his shirt was off, at the third trainers were kicked flamboyantly across the room, narrowly missing a small Victorian vase (Royal Spode for those porcelain geeks out there, oh, and I can see so many of you). The last line of the chorus and he was moshing, in only a white sleeveless vest and his jeans, the tight denim and the cotton of his underpants creating delicious friction.
Singing along, the telly turned up ear-meltingly loud, he decided to just jiggle on the spot for the verse, as...there she was. Disney's Snow White, honing into view like the QEII into Portsmouth Harbour. Even he was amused by the irony of ports and ships, just one innuendo away from trains, tunnels and then fireworks going off. Oh, this was too hot.
Especially when she took one of those very naughty German dwarves over her knee and started to spank him.
Dom had discovered his spanking fetish fairly recently, and of course it was the fault of the film he'd spent Christ knows how many years making. It plumbed into hobbity fantasies of chastisement by a stronger, larger authority figure, Dom's naughty little Merry to Boromir's chastising manly hand, or Aragorn's chastising manly hand, or Gan...to any male who could be roughtly described as a man's manly...apart from Lurtz, but then who didn't have a thing for that Uruk-Hai, huh?
Anyway, Dom. Jiggling. Enjoying the stompy Teutonic joy of fetishes. It was fairly warm in the room, and the bouncing around had made him start to sweat lightly, which could be construed as rather vile but on the eyes of someone watching in a Peeping Tom manner was far too exciting.
Billy.
He was hiding, watching the scene through the crack in the doorjamb, enjoying the sight of his best mate moshing to German rock music.
Billy had discovered his spanking fetish fairly recently, and of course it was the fault of the film he'd spent Christ knows how many years making. It plumbed into hobbity fantasies of being a stronger, larger authority figure, Billy's sexy dominating Pippin to Frodo's tiny Hobbity submission, or Bilbo's tiny Hobbity submission, or Sam...to any male who could be roughly described as Hobbity submi...apart from Gollum, but then who didn't have a thing for that Stoor, huh?
However, this fetish of the Scotman lay secondary to the primary objective in his life; Ways To Make Dom Happy. Trees. That was a good one. Foot massages - another. Peeling skin from burns; okay, that was eerily sexy. But he'd noticed other things, dark things, dark German stompy rock things that had infected his friend and had given him Ideas. Indeed, one of the ideas was upstairs, hidden in his own wardrobe, just waiting...
It took him less than ten seconds to clear the stairs and slam into his room.
*****
Dom hadn't noticed, his bare toes digging into the carpet as he stared at the screen, that lovely 28" screen that didn't distort the picture, that was absolutely bloody fantastic for watching porn...not that he did so, that collection had been left in the cupboard by the previous tenant of the house, honestly. Dom? Needing porn? When he was a decent and upstanding citizen?
"Lasst dich hart zu Boden gehen,
Und die Welt zahlt laut bis zehn"
It was only as he was rubbing his hands over his crotch, grinding into his palm in the need for some relief, that he noticed that someone was singing behind him, in a light tenor, in English.
"It lets you go hard to the floor,
and the world counts loudly to ten..."
The words proved painfully true when Billy, and who knew where the fuck he'd got the Snow White dress, Mary Janes and wig from, leapt out from behind the door, grinning like a loony, and took Dom, sweating, shocked Dom, down.
The ability to count to ten in German not only therefore could be used to sing along with the Germans, but proved so useful for counting the sharp smacks on Dom's arse.
*****
Laying on the floor Billy, still in his Snow White stuff, was crossing his ankles and admiring the shininess of his shoes. It was cute, thought the other man, who was using the Scotsman's thigh as a pillow, that Billy went so far to make him happy. It could be construed as worrying, but then Dom being Dom would have done it himself.
That was an idea.
"Billy?"
"Aye?"
"What's your favourite music video?" The meaning was obvious.
"Well, you ever seen the uncut version of Relax by Frankie Goes To Hollywood...?"
Author:
lord_alexanderFandom: LOTR RPS
Pairing: Billy/Dom
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: Not mine, alas, though I could be Eddie Izzard and claim them with a flag. But not. Unless it was a small sticky flag. No piercing of them allowed, yes, I know, it damages the rental value.
Notes: This is an short and unashamedly songficcish fic, to Rammstein's Sonne, the reason why becomes very apparent. Let's just say that Disney's Snow White spanking small German dwarves is good for plot bunnies. And hence why there's a wee bit of spanking in here, and cross-dressing. Hurrah! This is so ridiculously tongue-in-cheek, I can't tell you. But lyrics of the English translation can be found here.
sunset_mog's fault.Dom hated to admit to himself that this particular music video did interesting things to the elasticity of his underpants, but it did. It was a pathetic thing to do, to get all squirmy and hard over this, but once he heard the guitars kick in, even in a pub, or on the radio, his over excited penis would spring to attention and start dancing along to the music.
It was like one of those plants he used to have as a kid, those plastic jiving flowers with the sunglasses that always started to bop when it was put next to the stereo.
Maybe his cock was battery-controlled?
No, it was Rammstein controlled, the way it perked up. Of all the music videos in all the world and of all the songs, it had to be the German stompy rock that got him, didn't it?
On the telly, there were seven dwarves using pneumatic drills to get at coal, each of them covered in black dust, muscles shining and shuddering at the pounding (steady, he thought), those stupid hats that looked like ducks' bills on their heads. Okay, it was bad. Getting turned on by this was just the first slippery step to the slope where eventually being flagellated by leather clad nuns with liquorice bootlaces, while the Pope reads Jackie Collins aloud and thirteen leprechauns with strap ons dance the merengue on his really cool hat wouldn't be weird enough.
"Hier kommt die Sonne!" Dom sang, rather joyously, pushing himself off the settee to wiggle his hips in time to the music, which made him sway rather alarmingly. At the second time the grubby Germans told him that yes, the sun was coming, his shirt was off, at the third trainers were kicked flamboyantly across the room, narrowly missing a small Victorian vase (Royal Spode for those porcelain geeks out there, oh, and I can see so many of you). The last line of the chorus and he was moshing, in only a white sleeveless vest and his jeans, the tight denim and the cotton of his underpants creating delicious friction.
Singing along, the telly turned up ear-meltingly loud, he decided to just jiggle on the spot for the verse, as...there she was. Disney's Snow White, honing into view like the QEII into Portsmouth Harbour. Even he was amused by the irony of ports and ships, just one innuendo away from trains, tunnels and then fireworks going off. Oh, this was too hot.
Especially when she took one of those very naughty German dwarves over her knee and started to spank him.
Dom had discovered his spanking fetish fairly recently, and of course it was the fault of the film he'd spent Christ knows how many years making. It plumbed into hobbity fantasies of chastisement by a stronger, larger authority figure, Dom's naughty little Merry to Boromir's chastising manly hand, or Aragorn's chastising manly hand, or Gan...to any male who could be roughtly described as a man's manly...apart from Lurtz, but then who didn't have a thing for that Uruk-Hai, huh?
Anyway, Dom. Jiggling. Enjoying the stompy Teutonic joy of fetishes. It was fairly warm in the room, and the bouncing around had made him start to sweat lightly, which could be construed as rather vile but on the eyes of someone watching in a Peeping Tom manner was far too exciting.
Billy.
He was hiding, watching the scene through the crack in the doorjamb, enjoying the sight of his best mate moshing to German rock music.
Billy had discovered his spanking fetish fairly recently, and of course it was the fault of the film he'd spent Christ knows how many years making. It plumbed into hobbity fantasies of being a stronger, larger authority figure, Billy's sexy dominating Pippin to Frodo's tiny Hobbity submission, or Bilbo's tiny Hobbity submission, or Sam...to any male who could be roughly described as Hobbity submi...apart from Gollum, but then who didn't have a thing for that Stoor, huh?
However, this fetish of the Scotman lay secondary to the primary objective in his life; Ways To Make Dom Happy. Trees. That was a good one. Foot massages - another. Peeling skin from burns; okay, that was eerily sexy. But he'd noticed other things, dark things, dark German stompy rock things that had infected his friend and had given him Ideas. Indeed, one of the ideas was upstairs, hidden in his own wardrobe, just waiting...
It took him less than ten seconds to clear the stairs and slam into his room.
*****
Dom hadn't noticed, his bare toes digging into the carpet as he stared at the screen, that lovely 28" screen that didn't distort the picture, that was absolutely bloody fantastic for watching porn...not that he did so, that collection had been left in the cupboard by the previous tenant of the house, honestly. Dom? Needing porn? When he was a decent and upstanding citizen?
"Lasst dich hart zu Boden gehen,
Und die Welt zahlt laut bis zehn"
It was only as he was rubbing his hands over his crotch, grinding into his palm in the need for some relief, that he noticed that someone was singing behind him, in a light tenor, in English.
"It lets you go hard to the floor,
and the world counts loudly to ten..."
The words proved painfully true when Billy, and who knew where the fuck he'd got the Snow White dress, Mary Janes and wig from, leapt out from behind the door, grinning like a loony, and took Dom, sweating, shocked Dom, down.
The ability to count to ten in German not only therefore could be used to sing along with the Germans, but proved so useful for counting the sharp smacks on Dom's arse.
*****
Laying on the floor Billy, still in his Snow White stuff, was crossing his ankles and admiring the shininess of his shoes. It was cute, thought the other man, who was using the Scotsman's thigh as a pillow, that Billy went so far to make him happy. It could be construed as worrying, but then Dom being Dom would have done it himself.
That was an idea.
"Billy?"
"Aye?"
"What's your favourite music video?" The meaning was obvious.
"Well, you ever seen the uncut version of Relax by Frankie Goes To Hollywood...?"
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