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 Five

The next morning when Erestor awoke, he stretched out, then patted the empty bed, frowning. He lifted his head and found that Elladan had made himself useful, having summoned servants to light a fire and bring water for bathing. Erestor watched him in silence for a moment or two before Elladan realised he was awake. He was wearing one of Erestor’s own dressing robes, and as soon as he had seen the last servant back out of the door, he dropped it and made his way back over to the bed, crawling beneath the sheets with a becoming blush when he saw Erestor had been watching him.

“I wonder,” Erestor said as he pulled Elladan into his arms, “if you were thoughtful enough to prepare your body for my use before you went about less important tasks.”

“Yes, sir,” Elladan breathed, and Erestor immediately rolled on top of him.

“Very good, Elladan,” he praised, then looked down at the younger elf’s chest and flicked a nipple with his thumb. Elladan cried out and arched upwards.

“Please! Sir! I am sorry!”

With relish, Erestor made it a job of his to tap the same nipple with his forefinger, over and over again. “What are you sorry for?” he asked, while Elladan moaned and writhed beneath him.

“I do not know! Ah, it is tender!” he complained, his eyes squeezed closed. Erestor smiled.

“I should think so, and yet this does not really distress you, does it?” So saying, he moved that hand down to check and found Elladan hard already, just from that little touch. “Your reaction is what distresses you, is it not?”

Elladan bit his lip, then let it go as Erestor caressed him. “Yes…” he hissed.

Erestor nodded, thoughtful. “Come with me to bathe,” he commanded, and led Elladan to the steaming tub. He climbed in, then opened his arms in invitation, and Elladan awkwardly climbed into his lap.

He turned Elladan to face him, giving the youth a sliver of soap. “Please us together,” he instructed, and watched as Elladan took them both in hand, breath hissing between his teeth as he laboured, his cheeks beautifully flushed, small wisps of hair curling against his face and throat in the steam. Elladan managed to hold off his climax to allow Erestor to come first, and Erestor stroked his cheek with approval. Bathing was awkward with two in the small tub, and by the time they finished Elladan was laughing, blushing at himself and glancing shyly at Erestor to ensure it was not unwelcome.

When the bath was done, Erestor took great care with dressing, putting on well-tailored robes that suited him, and arranged his hair.

“Come to me!” He snapped his fingers when he was ready. He put a dressing gown on Elladan, belting it closed, then took a length of light cord from his pocket. He looped it around Elladan’s neck and gave it a tug to settle the loop.

Elladan resisted when he started toward the door, and Erestor glowered over his shoulder. “You are increasing your humiliation each time you hesitate,” he advised, taking in the sight of Elladan with his hands at his own neck, feeling at the cord. “But by all means, please continue.”

They walked the corridors in near silence, only Elladan’s occasional gasps of embarrassment accompanying them as they passed other elves who turned to stare. Erestor did not care what others thought, but Elladan would find this mealtime a trial without his brother present for support.

Erestor led him into the dining hall and found them a table, making certain to tie the makeshift leash to the table leg as he made Elladan kneel.

There was a stunned silence for a few moments, then a muted muttering of conversation struck up again. Erestor went to get breakfast for himself and Elladan, leaving him tethered to to the table. When he returned Elladan was shaking, head bowed, staring desperately at the floor. He appeared to need some kind of reassurance. Erestor frowned and laid a hand on the top of his head.

“Cease your trembling,” he said, and Elladan shifted minutely closer. “Look up at me,” he ordered, and slowly Elladan did so, his gaze intense, as if he did not dare to accidentally look anywhere else.

“Whose are you, Elladan?”

Elladan swallowed hard. “Yours, sir.” His voice was barely a whisper.

“Louder.”

“I belong to you, sir!” A few heads turned, and brows were raised, then elves went back to their food.

“Come sit on my knee.” Erestor shifted the bench so Elladan could comply. “No, do not curl toward me. Sit across it facing outward.” He arranged Elladan to his liking, sitting over his lap, facing the room; Erestor had chosen this table because it commanded a view of the entire place. Elrond sat blandly at the head table, ignoring the spectacle and reading dispatches as he sipped his morning juice. Erestor saw Elladan go crimson.

“I want them all to see you,” Erestor whispered. “I want them to see you and who you are with.” He closed his arms around Elladan, and the trembling subsided a little. “Well done, Elladan nín,” he praised. “Some of them are wishing they were in my place. And be in no doubt. Some of them are wishing they were in yours.”

He reached, slipping his hand inside the gown, and brushed unseen fingers over Elladan’s nipple to make him gasp and lean back against Erestor’s chest. He kept his hand inside the gown, ready to touch Elladan again. “Now I will feed you from my hand,” he told Elladan, nuzzling a kiss against his ear. “And you will thank me.”

“Yes, sir,” said Elladan, somewhat subdued, though he was still responsive. Erestor was pleased, and again fed him berries before deciding to go with something a little more challenging. Looking over what he had brought, he swirled his finger in a dish filled with thick creamy yogurt while Elladan watched.

“Please,” Elladan began, and then gasped when Erestor brushed the fingers of his other hand against the abused nipple. After that, he licked and sucked the yogurt from Erestor’s finger quite eagerly.

“What do you do when your brother is away, Elladan?” Erestor asked innocently. There was silence for a moment while the younger elf thought about his response. At last, he swallowed nervously.

“I, erm, read, sir?” he said, as if it were a question. He was asking for permission, whether he knew it or not.

“No. You will spend your time with me.” Elladan began trembling again, and Erestor rewarded him with a little bit of sticky, sweet honey. It required him to suckle more noisily, and they drew a couple of glances. When he saw that, Elladan turned around to hide, burying his face against Erestor’s neck.

Erestor let him. “Do you wish you were in your brother’s place rather than here?” He cradled Elladan against him. Again he brushed the nipple lightly with his fingertips.

Elladan gulped. “No, sir,” he said weakly, but Erestor thought he spoke truth.

He tipped Elladan’s chin up and claimed his mouth, slow and leisurely. Mealtime was nearly over, and many elves were drifting out by ones and twos; Elladan’s self-consciousness and the feeling that all eyes were rapt upon him was misplaced. “Will your brother envy you, do you think?” He asked, but did not give Elladan time to answer.

“Have you eaten enough?”

Elladan had not; his stomach growled, and Erestor clucked his tongue. “Eat,” he instructed firmly, filling his cupped hand with nuts and seeds. Elladan bent his head, using lips and tongue to empty it.

When he had eaten his fill, Erestor held a glass for him to drink, and he did; his cheeks were still pink, but he had calmed considerably.

“Thank you, sir,” he said, before Erestor had to remind him. Then he looked around and saw they were more or less alone. Only servants remained now, clearing the tables, and Elladan relaxed so swiftly Erestor had to keep a tight hold of him. He slipped the makeshift lead from Elladan’s neck now there was no need of it.

At last he pushed Elladan from his knee and stood up. “Come with me,” he said briskly, taking Elladan’s hand. The younger elf followed a step or two behind. Probably his mind was coming up with wilder and wilder scenarios, but in Erestor’s opinion, both of the twins were quite wild enough.

“I shall take you to get dressed and you will assist me in my work,” he said, then found himself pulling on a dead weight. Elladan had stopped moving. His mouth was open in shock, and he shook his head slightly.

“You want me to work?” he asked, as if Erestor had just announced an intention to have him hang from the light fixtures for the rest of the day. Erestor raised an eyebrow.

“You, Elrondion, were gifted with a supreme education. You will not waste it.” He pulled on Elladan’s hand hard, so that he had no choice but to keep walking or be dragged.

“Elrohir is never going to believe this!” he muttered to himself, and Erestor smirked. No, he probably wouldn’t.

He set Elladan to work leafing through books and scrolls to check for damage from silverfish or other pests, keeping half an eye on Elrond’s son as the boredom mounted. He did well for much of the morning, flagging a little by noontime. Erestor supposed it was fair; his evening had been a busy and challenging one.

“Go to the refectory and eat. Afterward, return here with a meal for me.” Erestor decided he would take it on the terrace, well away from his precious library materials. He could use some time out in the sunlight.

When Elladan had gone he stood and stretched, wandering through the library and letting the calm sense of knowledge and its preservation pervade him. What the young ones failed to understand was that this was his respite; this was not a task of onerous work or drudgery. This work fed his soul and made him content.

He seated himself on the terrace and closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth, only to startle awake some time later to find Elladan quietly setting out his meal on a nearby table. Erestor clucked his tongue at himself in mild dismay.

“It seems I am getting old, if I am wearied by having a young ellon in my bed at night!” He gazed at Elladan’s choices and approved of them. “I will have to work you harder so that I can keep up with you when we rise for the day.” He gave Elladan a frank look, and Elladan blushed, his breath coming faster with anticipation.

He gave no further instruction, and Elladan hovered like a waiter, tiptoeing back and forth until Erestor sighed.

“Do you see the swinging seat over there?” He pointed, and Elladan nodded. “Bring it and place it on the opposite side of the table.” He busied himself with seasoning his meal while Elladan dragged the piece of furniture to the required position. He was quite strong. Soon he had done it, and then waited for further orders.

It was a swinging seat for one, set in a frame with a small canopy attached as shade from the sun. “Arrange yourself on it,” Erestor said, waving a negligent hand. “Be as pretty as you like about it.”

He began to eat as he watched what Elladan would do. The ellon sat down sideways in the seat, one leg over the far arm, the other foot just touching the floor. He draped his upper body across the other arm so that his head fell back and his hair flowed loose and free, almost to the floor. Then he set the swing off gently to and fro with his toes.

“Very good,” Erestor said in approval. “Now entertain me.”

Elladan flashed him a look that could have meant anything, then he let his head fall back again and closed his eyes while his fingers undid the buttons on the front of his tunic. When it was open and falling off to the sides of him, he let a hand roam over his exposed stomach and chest, sighing. The other hand was relaxed, arm hanging so that his fingers almost touched the floor as the chair was swinging. He brushed his fingers over a nipple and caught his breath, his body moving up from the relaxed position like a breath of air.

Anyone might happen to see them, Erestor knew, though the odds favored privacy. He sat back, watching Elladan attempt to decide how far he was expected to go, knowing imagination could be a more effective ally than specific commands. For a submissive in exactly the right frame of mind, a specific command was actually a limitation rather than an encouragement. Elladan was in that place now. What would he believe Erestor wished to see? It was a fascinating experiment that required no more than a steady, expectant gaze.

Elladan touched his nipple again, making a low whimper in his throat, and when Erestor did not react, he slowly slid his hand downward, blushing deeply, and unlaced his breeches to take himself in hand.

At first Elladan raised his head, as if to check upon himself, but then he let his head fall back as his hand slowly rose and fell. The laces of his breeches dangled down as he caressed himself, and the swing rocked back and forth. Erestor pushed his plate aside, content to watch.

Elladan turned his head slightly so he could gaze at Erestor as he worked himself. His eyes were dark and half-lidded with lust and pleasure, and his posture seemed to show off his lithe long limbs, even hidden inside clothing.

“Please, sir,” Elladan said softly, and he probably didn’t even know what he was asking for, but Erestor decided he knew what Elladan was going to get. He stood and walked over to the swing chair.

“Tidy yourself up,” he said. “I have other duties for you this afternoon. Do not keep me waiting.” He gave Elladan’s body a lingering look then went back inside to tidy away their work things. He was taking the afternoon - a thing unheard of!

When Erestor was ready to go he snapped his fingers for Elladan, who hovered anxiously at the door, and hurried to heel without being told. Erestor was pleased, and led him out from the archives without hurry, pausing frequently to converse with other elves in the hall. Few acknowledged Elladan, who stood just behind Erestor with his head bowed, making no attempt to relate to the others they met.

The ellon was a natural submissive, Erestor decided; he knew his place well already. That was not to say Erestor planned to allow him to grow comfortable in it; not at all. It merely meant he could be pushed farther into submission faster than another might go.

Arriving at his quarters, he gestured for Elladan to precede him in.

“This afternoon,” he purred, taking a seat in his favorite chair, “I wish for you to tell me of yourself. What are your fears, your dreams, your goals, as they relate to your submission to me? Be aware, Elladan-nín, I will use them to dominate you. But you will be honest with me, or I will know you are not, and I will punish you for your evasions.”

He gestured to his feet, and Elladan knelt by him instantly. Erestor shook his head. “I suggest you sit comfortably. We might be here for some time.” Elladan nodded and seated himself at Erestor’s feet cross-legged instead.

“Good. Now, begin with your fears.”

Elladan bit his lip. “I am afraid of you,” he confessed. He was obedient to a fault. Erestor smiled.

“Good,” Erestor replied. “Why?”

“Because I seem to displease you so often, even though I try very hard not to.” Erestor waited in silence, and a flurry of words burst from the young elf at his feet in a torrent.

“And I am afraid because you do things that I do not like, and then make me like them. And I am frightened when you let others see. So much that I want to run away, but then I do not. I am afraid that you will hurt me, and then you do.” Elladan quietened then, and his next words were more considered. “And I am afraid you will hurt me in other ways.” He looked up.

“What ways are these?” Erestor leaned forward and brushed a hand over his hair, comforting him.

“Physical ways.” Elladan’s hand made an abortive motion toward his own nipples, then halted. “And my emotions as well.” He dropped his gaze. “I fear you will make me love you, and that you will not care.”

Erestor stroked his hair, wordless for a moment. “I care for all who submit to me. I do not promise them love. Love and caring need not be the same.”

Elladan nodded, almost imperceptible. “I fear that you will come between me and my family. My brother.” He trembled then, and his eyes were wet.

Erestor nodded; to some extent, he had already done so. Deliberately. “Not permanently, Elladan,” he said softly. “Never that.” The bond between twins was too strong; he could not destroy it if he wished to, and he did not. He waited.

“I fear myself,” Elladan finally admitted in the barest whisper. “What you will show me inside that I did not know.”

“No one was ever made weaker by knowing themselves, Elladan.” The younger elf blinked, then smiled. “What is it?” Erestor asked, wondering at Elladan’s smile.

“For a moment you sounded just like ada,” he said. Erestor shook his head.

“Anything else?” he asked.

“No, sir.”

Leaning back once more, Erestor relaxed further. “Continue, then,” he said. “But this time, I will hear your dreams.”

For a long moment, Elladan did not reply, and then: “Are we negotiating?” he asked suddenly. Erestor was so surprised by the question he actually sat up straight again. Elladan saw it and paled, not quite cringing but leaning backwards on his hands, unknowingly exposing his neck. He was unconscious of it. Elladan would learn things about himself indeed, Erestor thought.

“I am sorry,” he said quickly.

“Negotiation implies that there is give and take.” Erestor considered. “I will take and you will give. But perhaps you will find something of value in that nevertheless.” He raised a brow. “Pleasure, on occasion. Pain on others. Knowledge, always. Knowledge of self, at least.” He shrugged. “If you see that as negotiation, then we are. But you evade my question, and that does not please me.”

Elladan flinched and spoke in haste. “I do dream of pleasure from your hand,” he whispered. “I heard it said none other could give such pleasures as you.”

Erestor wondered who had spoken so to the youth. It would be interesting to learn, but he did not pursue it now; Elladan was still speaking.

“I wished to know what it would be like to come so hard I could not help screaming.” Elladan flushed crimson on every part of his visible skin.

Erestor reached out and slid a hand down Elladan’s chest, touching his nipple. “Have you learned that yet?”

“Yes, but not in the way I had expected.” Elladan’s breath came sharp and short. “But… I wish for you to do it again. I want it now; I crave it.”

Erestor pinched, smiling tenderly, his fingers hard and unyielding. Elladan moaned, again showing his vulnerable neck. “You will scream,” Erestor promised, his voice thick with lust. Elladan was so perfect, so helpless to resist him… he did not release the pressure. “What now do you dream, Elrondion, at my mercy and far from help? Now that you know none will come to answer your screams?”

When Elladan did not answer, he rolled the nipple hard between his fingers. Elladan cried out, breathing fast, his chest rising and falling in front of Erestor’s hand. “I do not want them to come!” Elladan gasped. “I dream of being at your mercy.”

“And do I show mercy, in these dreams?” Elladan shook his head with his eyes closed.

“No. You are cruel. You make me hard, and keep me like that for hours. You laugh at my begging. You hurt me for your pleasure and use me. When you are spent you invite others to use me too. You tell me it is all I am good for, and when I do not want it you make me come. And then again. And again until my body will not respond any more.”

Erestor paused for a moment, thoughtful. Did Elladan even realise his fears and his dreams were the same? Only the width of a knife’s blade separated them. He considered carefully. Elladan would have many more fears and dreams than these, he knew – some of which he was not even aware of yet. He tightened his fingers, making Elladan utter a gasping sob. The confession filled his mind with delightful plans.

“Very good, young one,” he murmured. “Tonight I will give you what you dream of. You will hurt, and you will feel pleasure. You will scream, and you will come until you can no longer respond to me. Then I will use you as I please, and you will sleep at my feet.”

He stroked Elladan’s hair again with his free hand, twisting his fingers slowly on the tortured nipple. He watched Elladan’s face, his eyes rolling back as he tried to endure without wailing; the boy was already sliding away into pure sensory submission, intellect replaced by emotion and instinct.

Erestor smiled.

 

To be continued...

 

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