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 Three

Erestor awoke the next morning feeling pleasantly fulfilled, loose-limbed and relaxed. He had forgotten how much the body benefited from regular sexual congress. He would not be likely to forget again soon, not if Elladan behaved as he expected.

He went through his day as normal, except for two encounters: Elrond, who gave him a wry greeting that spoke of half-amused resignation, and Glorfindel, who teased him mercilessly about imaginary evidence of a drastic improvement in his mood.

“Are there no balrogs left to slay? How will you further inflate your already exaggerated reputation for achieving the miraculous? That, perhaps, would account for your own ill-temper,” Erestor told him, sending him away in gales of laughter.

His translations went well, and by the time he returned to his rooms, he had all but forgotten he had told Elladan to change his method of waiting.

It was a pleasant half-surprise to enter his rooms and find the young elf thoughtfully arranged upon the bed, his rear conveniently presented toward the door for easy access.

“Ah. So you are here.” He set aside his heavy outer robe, feeling a delightful relaxation settle into his bones at the delectable sight before him. “Have you practiced working the inner muscles of your body, as I directed?”

“Yes, Sir,” Elladan said, his voice muffled by the pillows. Erestor smiled and sat on the side of the bed. He took oil and covered his hand with it, then reached beneath Elladan and pumped his cock until it was hard and straining.

“I prefer to see you like this,” he murmured. “Your body longing for the touch of its Master.”

“Yes, M-master.” Elladan stumbled over the unfamiliar word. Erestor drew the fingertips of that hand together and dragged them down and off the end of Elladan’s desperate cock. The younger elf moaned, long and low.

“I will fuck you now, and you will want to come. I suggest you avoid dirtying my bed, though. You would not like the punishment that brings.”

He fell silent for a moment as Elladan trembled, then continued. “I will not be too long tonight. My translation work is nearly complete. I would like you to stay like this, hard and willing and waiting for me to use you again. You may touch yourself if you need to, to keep your body hard.”

“Yes, Sir... Master,” Elladan said, and his voice was a mixture of desire and dread, as if he realised what it would mean for him.

Erestor wasted no more time, but knelt on the bed behind Elladan and freed his own cock, covering himself with oil before driving in with force, making the younger elf cry out. He did not bother to tease or to test, but worked to his own climax efficiently, ensuring he angled each thrust to hit the pleasure point in Elladan, so that soon his cries filled the room. His body was hot and tight, but yielding.

When he felt that Elladan was close, Erestor stopped for a moment. “You do not have permission, Elrondion. Do not disobey me.”

“Please, Master, please,” Elladan cried out.

“Please, what?” Erestor questioned, and maybe Elladan had learned something after all, because his next words were perfect.

“Please come in me, Master!” He felt Elladan clenching and releasing around him, faster than before. He had indeed been practising. Erestor found he liked the idea of Elladan working those muscles as he went about his day. Yes, that was a very pleasing thought. He began to move again, and this time Elladan begged him over and over to come.

It wasn’t long then before he did spend inside Elladan, and the younger elf had managed to get through it. His cock was still desperately hard. Erestor smiled and swatted him on the bottom a few times. Something that made Elladan moan in pleasure, that cock bobbing underneath him, touching nothing but empty air.

He pulled out and surveyed Elladan with satisfaction. “Await me as I instructed. Do not leave the bed and do not come. Remain aroused.” He cleaned himself leisurely, then repaired his attire and left, moving without hurry. He was gratified to overhear Elladan’s small, frustrated moan as the door closed.

His work went speedily, and he enjoyed it, feeling quite pleasantly relaxed. At last he finished, cleaning his workspace and trimming his quill to prepare it for morning. He would send the text to be copied now that he had completed his translation.

He glanced around to see if there were any he might engage in conversation, but none were by, so he decided to select his next project rather than return too swiftly to his rooms, where he would give ease – of a sort – to Elladan.

As he roamed the shelves, eyeing the works there amiably, as the old friends they were, he let his mind wander, dwelling on what he might like to do with the young lord.

He read a short story, and though he read the words, all he could think about was Elladan, all alone, reaching below to touch himself so as to stay hard as per his own command. When he concluded that enough time had passed that Elladan would have been well tested, he replaced the book and wandered sedately to his room.

When he entered, the first thing he noticed was Elladan’s soft, desperate sobbing. He had indeed remained in his place, although his trembling muscles were a result of keeping himself hard and yearning. As Erestor watched Elladan reached below himself and formed his fingers into a loose ring to tease his own cock. He sobbed again as he did it.

Erestor approached the bed and laid a gentle hand on Elladan’s backside, making him jump. As he suspected, Elladan hadn’t even been aware he’d entered the room.

“Very good, Elladan,” Erestor breathed, impressed against his will by Elladan’s tenacious obedience. He was in pain, no doubt.

“Master…” Elladan moaned, and he was broken by this, it was quite clear. Erestor was very pleased with him indeed. He moved forward, laying his hand upon Elladan’s back. He ran his hand along the planes of rib and shoulder, then curved it down to pinch the nipple he had bruised the previous night.

Elladan did not flinch.

Erestor stilled for a moment, contemplative, then slid his hand down the younger elf’s belly to find his cock. It filled his palm well, taut and sleek.

“Stand for me,” he directed, cool and composed. Elladan stood, and Erestor surveyed him, then nodded thoughtfully. “I will mark you tonight and take great pleasure in it,” he said. “Then you will beg me to fuck you, and perhaps I may.”

He strolled aside to his chest of toys and selected a light leather flogger of supple cane, well-wrapped and pliant. At its tip, the flogger separated into a wide, flat expanse of leather with slender, weighted fingers. It would produce a very beautiful and distinctive bruise when used properly, and Erestor meant to use it very well indeed. He had an eye for marking flesh, and had developed great skill in handling his toys with precision and care.

Smiling faintly, he let the flogger fall.

As he worked, he found himself studying the marks on the younger elf’s thighs. A perfect replica, just like the elf himself. He considered the new marks he was leaving, and thought this might be rather more difficult to copy.

Clearly, the twins were more alike than he’d previously believed. Erestor was surprised to have been deceived so easily, but it was of little importance. He would need a reliable way to tell which one of them graced his rooms in the evening, however.

When he had laid a pattern of marks on Elrohir’s buttocks, and the elf was still trembling, he had him lie down on the bed. Again, he repeated the examination he’d subjected Elladan to, noting his responses and reactions. All very similar, until he came to Elrohir’s feet.

When he trailed his fingertips across the sole of one foot, Elrohir gave a subtle twitch – as if he were ticklish and deliberately suppressing it. As Erestor continued the caress, he could see the stiffness of a managed reflex manifested in Elrohir’s muscles. Elladan had given no such reaction.

Very well. If the cunning of his marks did not suffice, that would be a means of telling the two apart.

So as not to reveal his insight, Erestor continued on without pause, touching the young elf until he quivered with anticipation. “You are lax in your duties,” he whispered. “If you would be fucked, you must beg prettily enough to convince me.”

Erestor withdrew his hands, and Elrohir began to beg, just as instructed.

“Please, Master! Please fuck me! Please put your cock in me!” he entreated, assuming the position of earlier, which made Erestor smile grimly.

“But you are still dirty,” he observed. “Do you think that is acceptable?”

Immediately the younger elf lay flat on the bed, humiliated, as if he had not thought of it. He probably hadn’t. “But I could not move,” he complained. “You told me not to move!”

“What are you?” Erestor asked, merciless. For a moment Elrohir did not respond, and he wondered if he would need to repeat himself. Such would ensure another punishment.

“I am dirty, Master,” Elrohir repeated, his voice dull.

With a sigh Erestor stood up and fetched a clean damp cloth from his washbasin, sitting on the side of the bed again.

“Assume the position,” he ordered, and Elrohir did, though this time his face was burning even fiercer. Erestor slapped the cloth against him to clean him, relishing Elrohir’s gasp: the cloth was very cold. He was brisk as he went about his task, pushing cloth covered fingers into him a little way until he whimpered.

“There. That will suffice.” He tossed away the cloth. “You will tidy these things away before you leave,” he commanded, but still did not mount Elrohir. “Resume,” he snapped. “Your efforts were unconvincing.”

Elrohir gave him a sidelong glance, martyred. “Please, Master, I need you to fuck me,” he began, but Erestor sighed, sharp and theatrical.

“Are words the only way you know how to beg, Elrondion?”

There was quiet and stillness for a moment, and then Erestor suddenly found himself with his arms full of a naked Elrohir as the younger elf clambered onto his lap, his body moving sinuously, his cheek so soft against Erestor’s neck.

Almost instinctively, Erestor put his arms around Elrohir’s waist, but that did not stop his fluid undulating motions. The hardness of his cock Erestor could feel even through his layers of clothing, and the unselfconscious grinding and enthusiasm was getting him excited too, though he gave no outward sign of it.

“Please, Master…” Elrohir sighed, his breath hot near Erestor’s skin. “Use me for your pleasure.”

“I am listening,” Erestor said, impassive. “You have improved, but I am unsure of your desperation.”

Elrohir made a low sound of frustration in his throat and shifted, nuzzling along Erestor’s neck. “Please, please…” he punctuated the words with kisses, grinding himself down against Erestor’s thighs. “If it is your pleasure to drive me mad, then it is working. I ache for need of you. Tie me if you will, hang me from the ceiling in chains and beat me, only fuck me, I beg you. I crave it…” His teeth teased the lobe of Erestor’s ear.

“Oh yes,” he whispered, stroking the ellon’s ribs slowly. “I will hang you and beat you. That thought pleases me greatly.” He moved, tilting Elrohir back, forcing him to trust Erestor would not drop him. “I will enjoy watching you twist under the lash, sweat dripping down your ribs and my name on your lips.”

“You will?” Elrohir whispered, as if he didn’t quite believe it. His body trembled suddenly in Erestor’s grip, and he laughed a little.

“Yes,” he confirmed, “and you will thank me for doing it.” He brought Elrohir up again, and wrapped a hand around his straining length, making the younger elf gasp and lean forward against his chest. “Do not come,” he warned harshly.

“But I waited so long,” Elrohir complained. “I need to!”

“You are not Elladan,” Erestor told him, and the ellon stilled so suddenly in his arms he might have turned to stone. He did not even breathe. Erestor smiled.

“No,” he said slowly. “You have no name.” He felt Elrohir relax slightly. “You are my toy, and I wish to play with you. You will not come, else I shall make you wait even longer for your pleasure next time.”

“Longer…” Elrohir repeated, beginning to tremble again as Erestor continued to caress him. He nuzzled Elrohir’s neck, breathing in his scent.

“I will keep you hard and desperate until the morning light. Until you have forgotten who you are, and who you are not, and you will promise me anything I want then. Even eternity under my hand. Your immortality.”

“No, I cannot!” Elrohir gasped. “It is my choice. We have not yet made it.” He was becoming genuinely distraught, but he did not come, and Erestor thought the look in his eyes was very rewarding indeed.

“Will you run from me now?” Erestor asked, as coolly as if inquiring Elrohir’s preference for how he took his tea. “For if you stay, you give me mastery over you. I will use it as I see fit.”

He slid his fingers into Elrohir at once, stroking him in a way calculated to make it impossible to think. “Just as I will use you, regardless of your preference, regardless of your brother, regardless of your father… you are a prideful one; you have spent many long years enjoying your lordship over this place, over your betters and your inferiors alike. It will amuse me to erase that pride from you utterly.”

Erestor had him now, had his fingers in the perfect alignment, courting Elrohir’s orgasm with ruthless precision. He could feel Elrohir’s struggle not to come, read it in every quivering line of him, in every rasping breath. “I think you want it,” Erestor whispered in his ear. “You want to grovel at my feet. Don’t you?”

Elrohir drew in a shuddering breath, and then gulped. “Please!” he managed. “Please, stop!” There was something very genuine about his protest, and so Erestor did stop. He ceased to torment, and let Elrohir go, only the younger elf clung to him, remaining straddled over his lap. He took a few seconds to recover while Erestor waited, then leaned back and looked into his eyes.

“Do you dislike me as you say?” he asked, seeming almost haunted. “If so I will go, and you will never see me here again.” Erestor saw Elrohir clearly in these moments, wishing to protect his brother from cruelty the like of which he had spoken.

“If I disliked you, Elrondion,” he said softly, speaking only to Elrohir. “I would not waste my time with you.” So saying, he pushed the younger elf away from him and turned his back.

“I will undress now. You have leave to go if you so wish.” He shrugged away the heavy robes he wore, and turned his head slightly. “If I find you waiting for me naked in my bed, however, I shall take that as consent. Think carefully, Elrondion.”

Erestor stripped himself leisurely, then took care of his clothing, hanging it so it would not rumple. He did not look back at Elrohir, giving the ellon the space he required to think.

He smiled privately to himself as he heard the rustling of his bedding. Curiosity was a terrible thing, as was overconfidence – both of which the sons of Elrond possessed in abundance along with courage, beauty, and strength.

He turned to find Elrohir awaiting him, laid out in submissive offering, his belly down, one knee splayed out to open himself in a quiet invitation.

“Turn over, pen neth,” Erestor said, and Elrohir obeyed immediately, turning onto his back, beginning to draw his knees up until Erestor shook his head. He poured a little oil in his hand and caressed Elrohir’s erection again.

“Now you may come,” he said. “In fact, I demand it. I wish to see you perform for me.” Elrohir let his legs go flat on the bed, and he raised his arms above his head when Erestor encouraged him, keeping them there. His breath was halting and short, sounding sweet with pleasure in the silence between them.

Besides Elrohir’s quiet breathless moans there was the sound of Erestor’s hand on his erection, moist and wet. He watched as Elrohir’s stomach muscles tightened and dipped, then relaxed. Over and over until he seized in climax, his moans louder as he closed his eyes, his lips parted and curled in pleasure as his seed shot up over his belly and chest.

Erestor continued to squeeze and caress him, though his hand slowed, taking him through the entire thing until he began to whimper, his cock soft in Erestor’s palm. At last his hand fell still, gently patting Elrohir’s cock as if in reassurance.

Elrohir looked at him, his eyes dark and his body relaxed. “Master…” he said, then gasped and shivered when Erestor’s hand tightened on him again just for an instant.

“Good. Now turn over for me,” Erestor said, watching as Elrohir obeyed, his body almost too lazy to move.

Elrohir was sweet, yielding bonelessly to his cock, moaning low in his throat as Erestor took him – long, languid strokes, untroubled by youthful urgency. The aftermath of pleasure made Elrohir very sweet indeed, submissive in his exhaustion. This kind of fucking was its own reward, like breathing deeply and relaxing into contentment without the need to do anything in particular.

Erestor made it last, plowing into Elrohir deeply and long, until the younger elf began to moan and shift underneath him, becoming aroused again.

“Be still,” Erestor whispered, biting his ear gently. “Do nothing but take it. Focus on how I move in you. Think of nothing else.”

“How you move… in me...” repeated Elrohir dreamily, as if he had been placed under some kind of spell, and he relaxed again on the outside, although via the tells of his body Erestor knew his arousal only increased.

“Very good, Elladan,” Erestor said deliberately.

“Oh! But…” Elrohir said, then appeared to think better of it, sighing into silence. Erestor gave him another long deep thrust.

“But what?” he queried, knowing Elrohir had been on the verge of confession without stopping to think what it would mean.

“I just meant: yes, sir,” said Elrohir, his voice dreamy again in utter surrender. Erestor laughed silently, and decided to have a little fun with him.

“You are so sweet. Not at all like your brother. I would never ask him to submit like this.” He never paused in his movements, and he knew what his words did to Elrohir because of the way they were joined.

“Why not?” Elrohir sounded a little more lost, helpless, as if he could not believe he was discussing himself like this.

“It is not in him. He is too lackadaisical. I would not touch him if he begged on his knees. You, though… you are contemplative and receptive. You will heed my lessons well.”

Elrohir was silent for a time, but his entire body tensed, and Erestor knew he was in a torment of dismay. “Perhaps you do not know my brother well,” he whispered at last, purely unable to contain himself and resist offering a defence.

Erestor paused in his motion. “Do I not?” He held there until Elrohir squirmed, needful. “Surely you would not argue the fact I find you far superior to him. I would not insult you by pretending the two of you are so alike as to be interchangeable.” He punctuated the phrase with a well-calculated thrust that drew a throttled cry from Elrohir’s throat. “Yours is the more sober mind, the more keen intellect… the greater skill in battle, the greater beauty! You need not tell him, but we understand between us: it is true.”

Elrohir’s soft moan mingled pleasure with misery, and Erestor judged it well-deserved, for the trick they tried to play upon him. Would Elrohir speak of this to Elladan, or would he stay silent? Erestor rather thought he would not speak, for once. He smiled, stroking his fingers over the marks on Elrohir’s backside. The seeds of discord, well-sown, would make this an intriguing game indeed.

“But you do like me,” Elrohir persisted, “the way I am now?”

“The way you are now, so still and accepting. I like you very much. Now be quiet,” Erestor said, feeling Elrohir relax again at his words.

“Yes, Sir,” he said, and then said nothing more as Erestor resumed the slow claiming of his body. Although eventually, Erestor found release – it felt too good to deny himself for very long. Elrohir said nothing and did not move, his head buried in the pillows, though his body trembled with want again.

Erestor turned him over, revealing his straining erection. He studied it while Elrohir looked up, silent, waiting for him to do something about it. As if surprised, he reached down and gave him a couple of passes with his hand.

“I think not,” he said. “I have given you your pleasure once tonight.” So saying he turned Elrohir onto his side, and then tucked in behind him, pulling the sheets up over them both. The younger elf gasped.

“What do you mean to do?” he asked, and Erestor chuckled into his ear, soft and dark.

“Sleep. You will sleep too, here with me.” He smiled when Elrohir fidgeted, displeased with that idea. “You will not torment,” he announced, and Elrohir became still.

Erestor could almost hear Elrohir’s mind whirring – ‘I would plead for fulfillment, but perhaps Elladan would not,’ and he very nearly chuckled aloud with satisfaction. He had Elrohir exactly where he wanted him.

“Is there a problem... Elladan?” He breathed the name sensually, investing it with fondness and warmth, as if it were a reward.

“N-no, Sir!” Elrohir tried to lie very still, succeeding only in communicating his misery through clenched muscles.

“So sweet and so perfect, my chosen twin,” Erestor praised him, and closed his eyes to sleep. It took a long while, for Elrohir’s erection did not want to subside, and he was stiff and awkward despite his best attempts to relax.

He breathed deeply, regularly, waiting for the inevitable, and it happened. As soon as Elrohir believed him to be asleep, he reached to touch himself. Erestor merely sighed and slapped at his hands, making him stumble over shocked apologies and promises to behave.

“You will behave,” Erestor promised, and turned Elrohir around to face him. “Or in the morning I will leave you tied to my bed for the servants to discover!”

“Please, Sir,” Elrohir begged. “Do not do that. I will not touch, I promise!” Erestor could feel the heat and hardness of Elrohir’s cock resting against his thigh. He moved it a little, nudging him as if by accident, relishing the slight moan that silenced his babbling.

“Sleep,” he commanded, and then watched as Elrohir closed his eyes, and continued watching until he finally relaxed, his erection vanished and his breath was deep and even. He was pliant and warm in Erestor’s arms.

“Very good, Elrohir,” Erestor whispered, placing a kiss on his forehead. But there was no chance of Elrohir hearing him, or feeling his touch.

 

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