Taming the Twins

BY : Pippychick_TAFKAB
Category: +Third Age > Threesomes/Moresomes
Dragon prints: 3379
Disclaimer: We do not own Middle Earth, Lord of the Rings or any of the characters. Everything belongs to Tolkien. We make no money from this story.

Chapter Eleven

By the time Elladan returned with his task complete, Erestor was able to gather the coverlet around Elrohir and lift him - with some effort, for he was full grown and carried some muscle on his athletic frame. “Go before us and open the door. He is well, but his legs are yet unsteady,” Erestor murmured. “When we return to my room, I will send you to fetch more food for him. He needs it after his exertions.”

It wasn’t far to Erestor’s quarters, but far enough it would have been an ordeal for Elrohir, yet by the time they arrived there, Elrohir was much more recovered. Erestor put him on his feet, and he drew the coverlet around him. Retreating behind his desk, Erestor wrote out a longish note, as quickly as he could. This he handed to Elladan.

“While you are out, take this to the tailors. Do not be tempted to peek, Elrondion, or you shall wear the dresses - do you understand?” Alarmed, Elladan nodded quickly and then was gone on his errands. He was used to such little tasks. He’d performed many of them for Erestor in the months leading up to this.

After he had gone, Erestor went back to his seat and gave the rest of the day a little thought. “I think perhaps you will have to borrow some clothing from Elladan for now. Then we will pass the rest of the day in the library, and Elladan can show you the work he has been set. You will help him.”

Elrohir seemed lost in the centre of the room, the sheet clutched around him. He glanced around then seated himself on the bed with a sigh. “Yes Master,” he said softly, then looked up. “Thank you, Master.”

It was as Erestor said, and the day was spent in usefulness. By the evening, according to his request at least one of the outfits ordered for Elrohir was ready. Though it wasn’t a dress, Elrohir still could not keep the scowl from his face as he put it on.

“You look like you have stepped right out of one of those paintings of the first age!” Elladan said, laughing, only subsiding when Erestor gave him a forbidding look.

The breeches were loose and almost flared towards the foot, and the tunic was long, with an indulgent ruffle at the bottom which made it seem like a shift dress. “You will wear it tomorrow at breakfast,” Erestor pronounced, satisfied. Elrohir looked as if he’d rather wear a dressing gown again, but said nothing. He was learning.

“What shall I wear?” Elladan asked, timid, regarding the rest of the clothing.

“Bite marks on your skin,” Erestor speculated. “And the marks of my hands on your hips. Bruised lips as well, and shadows beneath your eyes, for I will not let you sleep for bringing you to climax. And a tunic and breeches, or a dressing gown if you prefer.” He laughed softly as Elladan dithered in surprise. “But you will still eat from my hand, as will your brother.”

Erestor gazed at Elladan, thoughtful. “Your body is adapting swiftly, my Elladan. I think perhaps you will give me an extra orgasm tonight.” He smiled as Elladan shivered, dropping his gaze and biting his lip. “And then, in perhaps a week or maybe two, we will add another. My best performance to date from a pet is seven in a night, though he did not surrender as deeply and as gracefully as you. I think you will best him ere long.”

Elladan’s breath came swift and harsh in his throat; he made a noise of soft protest, his cheeks flushing. “Sir,” he whispered, his voice quivering.

“When you best him, I will give you the fucking you crave, and then you can sample the pleasures your brother learned today,” Erestor promised, and Elladan’s gaze flashed to Elrohir, almost frightened. “Until then you will have my hands and my mouth, but not my cock.”

“Yes, sir,” Elladan whispered, and then he shivered again, seeming unaware of it.

Erestor chuckled; Elladan’s cock had swelled, a hard ridge visible inside his trousers. “Did I not warn you to save your energy?” He went and stroked Elladan’s cheek. “You almost tempt me to take you now, but I will not.”

“Elrohir - get dressed in your work clothes. We will go to dinner.”

When they entered the refectory together, Erestor instructed them both to sit at the table, something which they both did happily, sitting on a bench together across from him and gazing at him like adoring students. Erestor shook his head at their foolishness and looked around, seeing Glorfindel with a group of admirers of his own. Elrond was here, and he seemed to relax slightly as his gaze passed over their table.

Erestor gave their choices to the server, then sat back, at ease. The twins looked uncertainly at each other, as if they expected Erestor to torment them even now. Erestor sighed inwardly. “Preserving knowledge and memory is an ongoing but invaluable task in the great libraries of the world. I thank you for your work on that today. Both of you.”

“Thank you, Sir,” they said, both together. Then they turned and smiled at each other, obviously pleased as punch.

“I did read a little today, while I worked,” said Elrohir, and Erestor raised his eyebrows in enquiry.

“It was about Gondolin,” Elrohir said, his lips turning down, “and it told of Glorfindel.” He sighed, and looked behind him where Glorfindel was laughing over wine with some of the guards. Slowly, he turned back to face Erestor. “I had not forgotten what he did, but it is so long since I studied it I… I forgot myself when I insulted him earlier.”

Erestor inclined his head towards Glorfindel’s table. “Now is as good a time as any, Elrondion,” he said, and Elrohir nodded. He got up from his seat and walked over there. Erestor could not hear what was said, but Glorfindel stood up and embraced him fondly. Elrohir came back just as soup was brought to them, his cheeks pink with embarrassment.

“You did well, Elrohir-nín,” Erestor said. He paused, then nodded at the soup as he took up his own spoon. “Eat. You are going to need your strength.”

The two of them tore into their food, as ravenous as if they had hunted orcs afoot for days, enduring short rations. Erestor finished his own meal and sat back as they devoured most of a suckling pig between them, with vegetables and fruits and greens. Not to mention wine. They would hardly be able to move, at this rate!

Erestor decided to have them work off the heavy meal with a jog around the city, to help prepare them for the evening ahead. It might also make them more docile, he reasoned.

“You will eat your father out of house and home,” he teased them gently when they finished. “I think after such gluttony, some exercise is required. Go to your rooms and dress lightly, then walk until you have recovered enough to run. After, run together for an hour or two. I shall watch your progress.”

They departed and he went to Glorfindel. “I have planned some suitably mild entertainment for the early hours of this evening,” he said. “Would you care to come and join me in watching it?”

“Of course,” Glorfindel gave him a wink. “Young Elrohir apologised very prettily.”

“That pleases me.” Erestor accompanied Glorfindel up to his room, and the two of them took glasses of miruvor out and sat at leisure on the terrace, watching the sun set in the west as the sons of Elrond made their way around the paths of the city, first at a walk and later at a sprint, their long dark hair flying behind them in plumes of shadow.

“They run well,” Glorfindel murmured. “They are wild and fleet, as lithe as deer in the wood.”

Erestor could not help but agree, and yet he managed to tear his gaze away from the twins long enough to study his old friend. He recalled the look Glorfindel had given him in the refectory at breakfast when attempting to remember his parents.

“Your memories have troubled you of late?” he asked mildly, and Glorfindel laughed, his eyes shining, still watching Elladan and Elrohir chasing each other around.

“I should have known you had an ulterior motive, even in this.” He looked around. “Your mind must be like a labyrinth!”

Erestor smiled. “You didn’t answer my question,” he observed, swirling the miruvor around in his glass. To his surprise, Glorfindel sighed.

“I have no trouble with my memory,” he said quietly, “because I have no memory.” He put his glass down in front of him, staring at it as though the miruvor were responsible. “Oh, it is not all the time. Just certain days, hours… When I first came here I remembered everything in painful detail. I could have told you not just about Gondolin, but about where I spent my time in Valinor, and what it was like to cross the sea back here to Middle Earth. But it fades. Over the centuries my memories have become worn like old toys. Some days, I don’t remember anything at all.”

Erestor put a hand out to Glorfindel’s arm, sensing his unease. “I do not know my beginning or my end. I do not know my deeds. Sometimes I wonder if I know myself at all.”

“You were the hero of Gondolin,” Erestor said quietly.

“And don’t I know that?” Glorfindel asked with a harsh laugh. He picked the glass up again and tipped back the whole contents in one. “Actually, everyone knows that but me.” He looked into the bottom of the empty glass for a moment. “Fire…” Then he shook himself and stood up, looking out over the terrace. “I think your twins are tiring, old friend. I should leave before they return.” He clasped Erestor’s hand. “Thank you for the ‘entertainment’ and for your concern.” He winked. “I live yet.”

Perhaps he did, Erestor reflected as he watched Glorfindel depart, but mere survival was not enough. One should enjoy being alive to savour and revel and suffer and overcome.

He thought he might possess the means to make the Golden Flower’s life a little more interesting, even if Glorfindel would not come to him to ask for play.

Smiling, Erestor finished his miruvor, watching the twins climb their way up the long, winding paths of the city until they arrived before the building where he dwelt. They were laughing and teasing one another, perhaps not seeing him sat half in shadow as he waited near the back of his balcony. He smiled. It was good to hear them be joyful and easy with one another; despite their small hurts and jealousies, the love between them endured undiminished.

He waited there, watching the star of Eärendil come out over the valley wall as the twins let themselves into his apartment and prepared themselves.

They did not seem to realise he was on the balcony, and he took the opportunity to listen in on their chatter as they undressed and prepared themselves to await him, as they had been instructed.

“What did our master do to you this day, my brother?” Elladan whispered, amidst the soft rustle of falling clothes. “I have not seen you thus before; nor have I experienced an orgasm that left me so spent I was unable to walk! Did it hurt? Was it pleasant?”

Elrohir paused before answering, and Erestor could almost hear him blushing. “It did not give me pain,” he confessed, voice betraying his reluctance to speak.

“Then what did it do?”

“I cannot say.” Elrohir’s voice fell, almost inaudible. “It was pure physical pleasure, not unlike what I have often felt when with another ellon. But somehow it was a deeper thing, more powerful than I have felt before. It drew from my entire body and left me wholly spent. Have you ever run for many hours, and then felt your legs quivering, as if they had exhausted their power and would not hold you? That is the closest I can come. And I could feel the very breath of the air as if it were a lover’s caress – so much so that to be touched was all but pain, as you feel if someone continues to stroke your cock after you come, except this feeling extended over my entire body.”

“I would like to feel so, one day.” Elladan sounded wistful.

“You should not speak so where he might hear you!” Elrohir hissed. “Lest you come to regret your confession.”

“Do you regret what was done?”

Elrohir sounded troubled. “I do not regret that,” he said. “But I do not like that he seems determined to turn me into some kind of fuckable doll.”

“I should not mind wearing a dress,” breezed Elladan. “Do you remember when I stole that one of Arwen’s?”

“Yes, well, you are strange.” There was the unmistakeable sound of a scuffle.

“Ow! Stop it!”

“Well, let go of my hair then!”

The fight seemed to grow rougher, then just when Erestor had determined to reveal himself, it stopped.

“What does he do to you, anyway?”

“He touches me.”

Elrohir scoffed. “Lightweight,” he said.

“See who survives the night,” said Elladan mournfully. “You have no idea.”

“You take things too seriously, muindor. You always have, ever since -”

“Ahem!” said Erestor loudly, walking into the room proper. Immediately both of them scrambled onto the bed, kneeling, hands behind their heads. Erestor walked around the bed slowly. The twins stared at each other, then straight ahead. What did they say when they did not speak? Erestor would love to know, but then no amount of eavesdropping would reveal that.

“Very well,” he said at last. “That was illuminating, but changes nothing. Elladan, I shall begin with you. Lie on your back for me.”

Elladan scrambled to obey, biting his lip, but arranging his limbs pleasantly, thighs parted to invite Erestor to take pleasure of him.

“We will begin simply, I think.” He slid one hand up the slim thigh that awaited him. He let it rest at Elladan’s hip, unmoving. “Think on your brother, Elladan,” he invited. “Remember him writhing and whimpering under my hand, pushing back to be fucked.”

Elrohir made a soft noise of protest; Elladan’s eyes squeezed shut. But his body was already stirring, his cock swelling slowly in response to the words.

“You craved that pleasure, I know. I did not need to overhear your confession to know you did. Continue to think of him now. His lips were full and red, his cock wet. His hair spilled over his shoulders and pooled upon the bed.”

He kept an eye on Elrohir, who glared at the floor fiercely, but was responding to the words as well.

“You watched the crop slide in and out of him, and you ached to be in his place.”

Elladan whimpered, shifting his hips, but Erestor held him prisoner, still looking at Elrohir.

“How did he feel when you touched him?”

Elrohir jerked his face aside, fists clenching, but Elladan answered.

“He was hot and damp, and he trembled.”

“Good.” Erestor slid his hand down, palming Elladan’s erection, which was now stiff and straining, eager for his touch.

“Do not look away, Elrohir,” Erestor chided softly.

Then he turned his attention to Elladan. “Please, Sir!” Elladan said immediately as Erestor began stroking him up and down. Erestor only smiled and did not stop.

“Hush. Let us make it nice and quick this time. Soon over.” He watched as Elladan bit his lip and nodded, pushing up into Erestor’s grip. “Very good,” Erestor praised. “Would you like me to add a little oil?” Elladan nodded in silence, and Erestor moved his hand away for a few seconds to get the lubricant. When he began again, Elladan closed his eyes.

Erestor turned his head, and found Elrohir staring wide eyed at what was happening. He looked ready to lick his lips as Erestor’s hand sped up, noting the changes in Elladan’s breathing. They chased the first one together fast, and it was not long until Elladan spilled with a quiet cry. Erestor squeezed him to get the last drops of it, and then stilled his hand.

“Well done, Elladan-nín,” he said, then ruffled Elladan’s hair with his dry hand. “You may take some time now while I deal with your brother.”

“Yes, Sir,” said Elladan, and he sounded resigned.

Erestor wiped his hand, then went to fetch a box full of things to look through with Elrohir. He did not neglect to pick up the riding crop. “You may watch this, Elladan,” Erestor said, seeing as Elladan was not put beyond attention as yet.

“You may choose, Elrohir,” Erestor noted, and laid down the crop. “You already know how this one feels.” As he spoke he caressed the end of the crop, and pulled Elrohir’s hand to do the same. Elrohir’s fingers trembled as they traced over the design, and he swallowed loudly.

“Or there are others. I will show some of them to you.” He waited until Elrohir looked up and nodded, then reached into the box.

Elrohir watched, face still and wary, as Erestor withdrew the first item. It appeared to be a string of beads joined by short segments of slender cord. “These are made to be inserted and then withdrawn,” Erestor slid his fingers through a handle at one end. “It can be done very slowly…. Or very swiftly.” He didn’t pause, continuing to rummage as Elrohir examined the beads with his fingers. “These would do much the same as the crop you are so fond of.” He held up a few small wands, one after the other,each with a handle and a curved shaft with a knob on the tip. The curves differed, and the knobs were of different sizes and shapes.

“Ah, this one, though.” Erestor paused, looking into the box, and let Elrohir sweat a bit before he reached inside. “This is a favorite of mine. It never fails to provoke the desired response.” He rolled the item thoughtfully, not withdrawing it. “It was made by dwarves during the second age, before our peoples were sundered by argument. It still functions as well as the day it was made. Shall I let you see it?”

Elrohir gave a short, curt nod, curiosity getting the better of him. His eyes remained fixed on the box.

Erestor withdrew something that at first glance looked very plain indeed compared to the other toys. He placed it in Elrohir’s hands, watching his reaction. His fingers moved slowly over the length of it, noting its girth and smooth polished surface. It had been sealed with something that made it shiny and satin soft to the touch.

“It is oak,” he observed, and Erestor nodded. Elrohir examined the end of it which would remain outside the body. A device was attached that required a turning key. “What is this?” he asked, nervous.

Erestor produced the key. “It is a clockwork mechanism. I will show you. Hold it in your hand.” Elrohir obediently curled his fingers around the toy as Erestor wound the key. It clicked rapidly, and Elrohir looked slightly alarmed. “This is not the trick,” Erestor advised him. “Observe.”

He removed the key, freeing the coiled spring inside, and the invisible hammer on the inside began to beat against the hollowed out wood in a rapid tattoo. Elrohir exclaimed in surprise and let it go. It landed on the bed, the hammer still going, too heavy to turn on the thick blankets, but it jerked as if it might.

“I could feel it!” Elrohir gasped, staring at the thing. Erestor chuckled and picked it up. “Hold it thus,” he suggested. “Then you will feel its purpose.” So saying, he placed the tip to the end of his nose for a moment, then passed it back to Elrohir.

Hesitantly, he copied Erestor, and then held it away, giggling, turning to Elladan and letting him feel it on the tip of his nose. Soon, the two of them were laughing, and Erestor laughed too for a moment.

“Imagine how it would feel inside you, Elrohir,” Erestor suggested, and he saw the ellon consider it seriously, his face becoming more grave as he gulped. Then he handed it back.

“If I may choose, as you say,” he said, “I will take the crop.”

“Today you may choose,” Erestor said, amused that Elrohir would opt for the familiar. He leaned forward. “But make no mistake, Elrohir nín, you will come to know all of these instruments intimately.” He held the younger elf’s gaze easily, until Elrohir dropped his, a becoming flush colouring his cheeks.

“Yes, Master,” he mumbled.

“You will be responsible for this box, and for taking care of the objects it holds,” Erestor instructed. He placed all of the contents back inside one by one, leaving only the crop on the bed. “Now go and replace it,” he ordered, handing the box to Elrohir. “Whilst I see to your brother again.”

Elrohir took the box and moved away, while Erestor turned his attention to Elladan, seeing the flash of hopelessness in him as he scrambled away on the bed, ending up pressed against the pillows. “Please, Sir,” he said nervously, shaking his head as Erestor moved closer. “Not so soon. I can’t!”

Erestor’s lips compressed into a thin line. “Think carefully, Elrondion,” he warned, “for you are courting punishment.”

“I did not mean it, Sir!” he said, shocked, and at Erestor’s encouragement he straightened his legs out, and then spread them apart on the bed, allowing Erestor access to his private places.

“Better,” Erestor said. “You should know your body and its responses belong to me now. You will not be punished for them, or their lack. But you will be punished for hiding them or refusing me, do you understand?”

Elladan nodded quickly, eyes wide. He looked down as Erestor’s hand closed around him - still soft - and he whimpered, biting his lip. Erestor used his other hand to cup Elladan’s balls, leaning down so he could gift the younger elf’s cock with a heavy lick. There… Elladan firmed in his hand, enough for a slow stroking movement to begin.

Erestor was aware that Elladan had turned his head away, though his breath speeded up. Meanwhile, Elrohir had wandered back to the bed and now stood watching them both, a timid look of uncertainty on his face. Erestor did not pay attention at this moment. Courting Elladan’s new erection was like kindling a flame. It required the utmost care and dedication. At least until it caught, and Elladan’s cock grew long and thick, his body making unconscious little movements into the grip of his hand.

“Very good, Elladan,” praised Erestor, impressed. He switched his gaze to Elrohir now, and nodded to the side of the bed. “Sit, Elrohir. If you are idle you may apply oil to the crop I will use on you next.”

He did not watch to see if his instructions were followed, but turned his full attention back to Elladan. Or more precisely, Elladan’s cock. He moved his hand fairly quickly now, ruthlessly demanding, despite the way Elladan trembled.

“Erestor?” Elladan said softly.

“Yes?” he replied, without looking up.

He squeezed with his hand, and instead of replying, Elladan gave him a beautiful helpless moan.

Moving slightly closer, Erestor reached out with his other hand, settling his fingers behind Elladan’s ear, using his thumb to trace a gentle path along the pointed tip. Elladan shuddered, but did not release. “I have special clips for your ears. We shall try them later, when you need the extra stimulation.”

“Y-yes, Sir,” Elladan stammered.

“By then you might no longer be aware,” Erestor said, his voice deliberately low, purposefully wicked. “But I think then I will let you spend in my mouth. Would you like that?”

“Sir!” Elladan whined then, his body jerking, so close.

“Let it go, then, Elladan nín,” he whispered, thumb still caressing the elf’s ear. “Give it all to me.”

And as if he had commanded it, he felt the warmth as Elladan climaxed, his cock remaining hard for a minute as Erestor teased as much out of him as possible. His cries were like music, and when there was nothing left, Erestor withdrew, wiping his hand on a towel by the side of the bed as Elladan watched him, his body subsiding down on the pillows, exhausted in surrender. But they had barely begun, and Elladan knew it.

 

To be continued...

 

Authors' Note: Thank you for reading – we hope you enjoyed it! Including the experimental “things-made-by-dwarves” bit that we put in.

 

I'd like to wish all of our readers a very Happy Christmas and best wishes for a fantastic year in 2017 <333

 

Also, I should note from this point on, chapters will be slower since I will now be writing alone. But rest assured, I will continue it. :)



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