Author: Lostiawen

E-mail: Lostiawen

Rated: NC-17

Pairing: VM/OB

Summary: A modern day take off on "The Princess and the Frog". 

Archive: Please ask.

Feedback: Yes, please.

Warnings: crack!fic, implied drug use, exhibitionism, crass come-on lines to women, horrid mangling of vocabulary. 

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. 

Author´s Notes: This is a fractured fairy tale, hope you enjoy my twisted sense of humor.  Many thanks to Salix and Elizabeth for their support.  Oh, and thanks to Mel for providing the line about Viggo´s gayness. 

Posted Nov.  12, 2005

Once upon a time, in a city called London, there was a pretty young man named Orlando. He was very, very spoiled -- he grew up in a posh household and his parents couldn´t deny him anything when he pouted. He was very active on the club scene, and he was so smashingly gorgeous and slutty that he had a trail of men after him wherever he went. Because he was very choosy and snotty over exactly who he shagged, he eventually picked up the nickname, "Prince Orli".

Well, one day, Orlando was dancing shirtless at a rave, knowing that he was very pretty indeed with his sinfully tight trousers. He had sprinkled holographic glitter over his smooth, perfect chest and had lined his wide, beautiful eyes with kohl. The evening was warming up quite nicely -- he already had a large queue of men at the edge of the dance floor, and he had several prime tablets of E tucked away for later use. 

"Next!"  he called out, shoving away his current dance partner, a shortish Yank bloke with unusually large blue eyes. The guy was cute, but his hair really put Orli off. It was ten millimeters too long for Orli´s taste, and that would never do. 

Orlando rolled his eyes when a bloke with black, curly hair and a fairly large nose and eyes approached him. He crawled along the ground in a semi-crouch, and really weirded Orli out. 

"Ew!"  Orlando said, turning up his pretty little nose. "Sod off. There´s a bunch of ravishing blokes waiting for me, and I´d much rather shag them. Not that I would even give you the time of day, normally. You must be high if you think you can even sneak a peek at my gorgeous, wee little arse." 

The man replied, "Well...since you´re being such a tosser, from now on, my precious, you will be that which you find the most hideous. And you´ll stay that way until you realize that your shit does indeed stink." 

He gestured, and Orlando felt very, very dizzy. He´d never felt this dizzy even after he had gotten royally monged on three vodka tonics. The room was spinning around like mad, and twinkly lights danced in front of Orli´s eyes. Orlando tried to make his mouth work, but the man cackled and disappeared in a multi-colored puff of smoke while "Fernando" mysteriously blared over the speakers. 

When Orlando´s head cleared, he noticed that he was wearing his loud orange shirt again, and there was some sort of odd weight on his chest. He didn´t know what to make of any of this. 

"Ah, screw the wanker," he said, turning to the crowd. "Let´s party!" 

Instead of cheering, everyone shrunk away from him. Confused, Orlando pounced on his biggest admirer. "Dom! Care for some backroom action?"  he asked, making the never-will-fail puppy dog eyes. 

Dom squirmed and mumbled, "Um...sorry, Orli luv...I have to wash my hair."  He scurried off, leaving an adorably confused Orlando behind. 

This happened for the rest of the night, all of the lovely gay men avoided Orlando when he tried to chat them up. Orlando soon became alarmed -- horrors, what if he had developed a spot on his face? 

Alarmed, he scurried off to the loo, barreling into someone on the way in. The impact dazed him, but what was even weirder was the fact that it really didn´t hurt. Almost as if it had been cushioned... 

He glanced down and promptly shrieked. There were these *bumps* on his chest. Heart beating quickly, Orlando unbuttoned his shirt with shaky fingers. 

"Fuck, they´re attached!"  He shrieked when he saw that he now had a pair of boobs. And then he realized that something just felt *wrong* between his legs. Gulping, he unzipped his trousers and glanced inside his pants. 

"No no no! Mr. Willy fell off!"  he screamed. 

And indeed, poor Orli was bereft of everything that gay men would find attractive. Instead, he was sporting an impressive rack and had girly parts in his boxers. The transformation didn´t stop there, looking in the mirror, he saw that he completely lacked any five o´clock shadow, and his face was even smoother and daintier looking than before. His presence was causing a commotion in the loo, so a bouncer came inside and told Orli that he had to leave, since women weren´t allowed in the men´s room. 

Orlando was utterly depressed. He loved being able to pee standing up, or just unzip his fly for a quick shag, but that wasn´t possible now. He had no interest in women of any sort; or, for that matter, straight or bi men. But there was no way he´d attract any decent gay male now. He was still as pretty as ever, but that was very little consolation to him right now. 

As he walked down the street, he passed by some bars. He tried to flirt with some of his admirers, but they scarpered when they saw his girly bits. Unable to deal with the rejection, Orlando decided to walk back home; which unfortunately took him right past the straight bars. As he strolled by, men craned their necks out and whistled. 

"Whoa, lass...I´m on fire here!" 

"Nice rack!" 

"God, you´d make my day if you´d just swing those tits in my direction!" 

Poor Orlando was too bummed out to tell the blokes where they could stick their comments. He just kept putting one foot in front of the other, not paying attention to whatever direction he was stumbling. He was so engrossed that he almost didn´t notice the very short fellow in front of him. 

"Shit!"  he exclaimed, jumping back, noticing the squat bloke for the first time. And he was very squat indeed...he couldn´t have been more than a meter tall. He wasn´t very much to look at, and he had the most awful skin -- warty *and* very spotty. Mostly, though, he was old. Terribly, humongously old. One foot in the grave, even. 

Well okay, Orlando admitted to himself, he was really only above 40, but that was sodding *old*. However, he wasn´t running away from Orlando, which was quite unusual, because the man was setting off Orli´s gaydar something awful. In fact, if he was any gayer, his name would have been Rudy Galindo. 

"Good evening," the odd little man said. "Someone as beautiful as yourself shouldn´t look so sad." 

Orlando didn´t know whether to laugh or cry. He *finally* got the attention of a gay bloke, but the guy was hideously ugly. 

"Um, yeah, that´s nice," Orlando said, even though he would normally tell the guy to sod off. But he didn´t want to piss off the one gay man who would talk to him. 

"Can I interest you in a cup of coffee?"  the man replied. 

"Um, no thanks, uh..." Orlando hesitated, because he didn´t know what to call the man. He had a feeling that "Warty Spotty Squatty Thing" wouldn´t go over well. 

"Viggo," the bloke squeaked out. 

"Right, Viggo," Orlando repeated. What a weird name for a guy. On the other hand, there weren´t very many "Orlandos" either. 

Orlando was desperate, but not *that* desperate. "Um, I have to go floss my cat and do my nails," Orlando said breezily. He scurried off, determined to see if another man would talk to him. 

As the days passed, Orlando grew increasingly worried. Not a single gay man would give him the time of day, and the straight men were absolute cunts. They kept making crude comments and grabbing at his girly parts. Orlando was growing very tired of them, especially since the blokes wouldn´t look him in the eye when they talked to him. 

The only person who would look him in the eye was Viggo, which was no small feat considering how short he was. Orlando was sure that Viggo must have a crick in his neck, since they saw each other every morning. Each time, he brushed off the polite greetings and the compliments that Viggo lavished on him -- he really wanted to get the attention of a cute gay bloke. 

One day, however, Orlando didn´t see Viggo on his usual route. Puzzled, he wondered if Viggo had finally gotten tired of him. No Viggo, no compliments. Period. Orlando panicked and he frantically began to search for Viggo, not paying attention to where he was going. This unfortunately took him right by a construction site. 

"Oi, there´s a fine looking tart!"  one of the men said. 

"Enh. Great tits, but no arse on that one. I need some buns to grab my sausage when I get to business," another replied. 

The others joined in, agreeing in varying degrees of crudeness with the second man. Orlando winced at being sized up in this way. Was this what his rejects had felt like? 

"Fuck off, the lot of you!"  Orlando yelled before he dashed away in tears. Sniffling, he could now see how mean and shallow he had been. 

He now felt incredibly lonely, and he dragged his feet as he wandered around, wishing that he had been kinder. He almost stumbled over Viggo again close to his home. 

"Oh shit, I´m sorry!"  he sputtered. When he saw that it was Viggo, he smiled. "Fuck, man...I missed you this morning." 

Viggo just smiled mysteriously at Orlando and didn´t say a word. 

"Um, Viggo...why do you have your hands behind your back? Did you hurt yourself?"  Orlando asked. 

Shyly, Viggo brought his hands forward and offered up the bouquet of flowers he was holding. They were yellow daffodils, Orlando´s favorite. Orlando now felt like a complete twat and he realized how much he had looked forward to seeing Viggo every day. And Viggo had always been nice to him, despite his girly parts. 

"Thank you," Orlando said and actually meant it for once. He leaned forward and gave Viggo a little peck on the lips. 

Suddenly, a purple cloud of smoke surrounded them. It sparkled and flashed, and the strains of "I Will Survive" filled the air. The smoke made Orlando feel all tingly and his shirt didn´t seem so very tight any longer. He also felt a familiar jiggling between his legs. 

Hope surged within Orlando. Holding his breath, he unzipped his fly and reached in, his heart beating quickly when his fingers brushed across the lump inside. Elated, he whipped his thingy out. 

"Little Orli´s back!"  he crowed when he saw that he had been restored to his former glory. 

"And it´s very nice," a deep voice rumbled in reply. 

Orlando blinked. Deep voice? Where did that come from? He had to know, that voice was sexy as hell -- low and with just a bit of a smoky rasp. Just the sound of it made Orlando want to drop trou and beg to be shagged within an inch of his life. 

It was still hard to see, but the smoke started to clear, and Orlando noticed that he was looking at a crotch instead of Viggo´s face. And it was a nice crotch...Orli could tell right off that the bloke wasn´t wearing any underwear, and that he dressed left in his tight, battered jeans. 

While staring at the impressive trouser snake in front of him, Orli´s peripheral vision spotted the guy´s shirt. He wished he hadn´t looked -- light blue plaid? Ew! 

The shirt forced Orli to tear his eyes away and look upward. The plaid was just hideous, but it did go smashingly well with the bloke´s eyes, which were set in a chiseled, rugged face. Oh man, he was a sandy blond. Orli loved blonds; especially blonds with a touch of manly stubble. He couldn´t believe his eyes; who was this giant stud in front of him? 

"Erm, uh...what happened to the fugly guy?"  Orlando asked, before he slapped his hand over his mouth. He really did need to learn to think before saying things. 

However, his brain stopped functioning when the man pulled him close. "It´s me, Viggo. I was under a spell cast by a wicked fairy named Exene. I pissed her off with one too many of my ramblings and she hit me with a horrible curse. I was supposed to stay in the form you saw me in until a prince kissed me. And frankly, I´m glad that it was you; I´m not too fond of Prince Charles. In fact, I don´t think he has much in the way of political opinions...which is understandable because the royal family have been figureheads for ages, resembling Hollywood stars more than actual monarchs...and that whole affair with that woman, whatever her name is, was rather sordid...."

Orlando decided that he really wasn´t interested in hearing a long political discourse, especially since he hadn´t had a shag in forever. He shut Viggo up the only way he knew how, by kissing the other man hard. 

To Orlando´s surprise, Viggo´s response was very gentle, he touched and teased the length of Orlando´s tongue with his own, keeping his actions playful and unhurried. The languid exploration soon had Orlando melting, and he melded himself against Viggo, grinding their hard crotches together in a frantic search for more. 

"Patience," Viggo murmured, pressing kisses to the side of Orlando´s jaw. "We have time." 

"But I haven´t had a cock up my arse in almost a week!"  Orlando whinged. "That´s like, forever." 

"Patience," Viggo repeated. However, Orlando wasn´t willing to listen. He dropped to his knees and unzipped Viggo´s fly, grinning when he tugged out a truly prodigious trouser snake. 

"My my my...what a nice treat," he purred before he inhaled the hard shaft in one gulp. 

"Oh God!"  Viggo cried out, bucking into Orlando´s mouth. Orli ran his tongue over Viggo´s cock, dipping it into the slit and savoring each drop of pre-come that welled out. He had so missed the taste of the salty fluid, and he hollowed his cheeks and slurped loudly, hungry for more. 

Viggo´s head fell back and he tangled his fingers in the brown curls. To Orlando´s dismay, instead of thrusting forward, Viggo pulled back, separating them with a loud pop. He was about to whinge about how unfair this was when Viggo grabbed him with lightning speed and threw him over the bonnet of a nearby car. Before he could gain his bearings, his low-rider jeans and boxers were yanked down around his ankles. Orlando tried to boost himself up on his arms, but Viggo pinned his wrists and pressed against him, preventing him from moving. 

"Now you´ve done it," Viggo growled in his sex-on-legs voice as he ground his hard erection into the crack of Orli´s arse. "I´m going to fuck you so hard that you won´t even remember your name when I´m finished with you." 

Orlando´s knees turned to water and he spread his legs as wide as he could. "Fuck yeah...give it to me," he moaned, arching up and pointing his perky arse into the air. 

His dick twitched when he heard the squish of lube. He was quickly prepped and then Viggo´s slick cock pushed inside of him, sliding forward until he touched bottom. 

Orlando´s eyelashes fluttered as his arse was stretched to the limit. It felt so damn good... not one of his previous shags had ever come close to filling him this much. 

"More," Orlando whispered, flexing his internal muscles. "I´m not made of glass." 

"Eager little slut," Viggo replied before he pulled back and rammed back in with heart-stopping force. 

Orlando screamed, nails scrabbling against the bonnet while Viggo hammered into him, crying out as he was treated to the fuck of his life. All of his cares -- his stretched out shirts, his hurt feelings from the taunting he endured all week, the fact that they were shagging out in the open where an appreciative audience had gathered in a small circle -- all of that evaporated away with each thrust of Viggo´s cock. 

The next stroke rubbed across his prostate, and Orlando couldn´t stop himself. Screeching like a banshee, he came like a freight train, splashing huge ribbons of come over the car´s shiny new paint job. 

As his orgasm tore through him, Viggo´s hips jerked. He thrust twice more before he slammed forward with a loud roar, filling Orlando with his hot release. His body stiffened before he collapsed on top of Orlando with a loud groan, pressing their sweat-dampened skins together. 

"Man," Orlando sighed. "That was the best shag ever." 

Someone from the crowd yelled out. "So hurry up and do it again! Some of us are still hanging out here!" 

"Fuck off!"  Orlando replied. "Who told you to watch?" 

"Who told you to have it off right in the middle of the kerb?"  the loudmouth shot back. 

Orlando was going to continue the argument when he felt Viggo´s hand stroking his cheek. "These poor men have been deprived for so long...won´t you have some pity on them, Orlando?" 

At the soft spoken words, Orlando felt his anger dissipate. "You´re right. I´ve learned my lesson...no more being a selfish little shite. Do you mind if I shag all of these blokes?" 

"Only if I´m not allowed to take pictures." 

"Well, then..." Orlando replied, wishing he could wrap his arms around Viggo´s neck, but he was a bit trapped at the moment. "Could you be a love and fetch me a gallon of lube from the chemists?" 

Viggo kissed him on the neck before he pulled out. "Anything for you, baby." 

And so Orlando learned to be generous to all of the poor, dateless, horny old souls out there. Viggo remained by his side, to take photos and bang the hell out of Orli at the end of each day.  Orlando was so giving that he touched the heart of Andy, and the fairy granted Orlando and Viggo eternal youth for their service; granting them the freedom to shag until the end of time. 

And they lived hornily ever after. 

THE END

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