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 Seven

That night, Erestor was alone, which was a return to a more familiar state of affairs. Though he had tried his best to keep his feelings separate, Erestor was surprised to find himself missing the warmth of one of them in his bed with him. Therefore, the night after, when he found Elrohir awaiting him on his bed, he was so pleased his first thought was not of punishment, pain, or even pleasure. Instead he felt a great and genuine warmth for the sons of Elrond, and he smiled, in secret, before Elrohir could turn and observe it.

He did know it was Elrohir. How, he couldn’t be certain, but perhaps after all he did know Elladan’s body so well that tiny differences impressed themselves upon his unconscious mind. If they were being honest with him, he might ask Elrohir how the hunt had gone. Instead, he slowly undressed, folding his clothes carefully, then consciously smoothed his face into a bland expression and seated himself by the bed without touching Elrohir at all.

“After your experience with me,” Erestor began, determining to give Elrohir a chance to share things the same way as Elladan had done. “Do you feel your fears or desires have changed?”

“I am afraid,” Elrohir swallowed hard. “That I cannot please you again. That you will grow weary of me swiftly and dismiss me. That I,” he could not bring himself to speak for a long moment, and when he did, his voice was very soft. “Will prove no more satisfying than you imagine my brother to be.”

Erestor might actually have pitied him if circumstances were different, and if he were being fully honest.

“You will always be expected to try your hardest to please me,” he said firmly. “Some days your best effort may be better than others. This is to be expected. What other fears do you have?”

Elrohir seemed somewhat reassured, relaxing and considering anew how to answer.

“After - you - the other night,” Elrohir began haltingly, dropping down from the position he held to lie face down on the bed. He waited, but Erestor did not help him, wary of putting words into the younger’s mouth. “I mean, perhaps I am afraid that there is nothing further you can demand of me.”

Erestor raised his eyebrows in disbelief, then laughed - out loud. Did they mean to outdo each other in this? Elrohir turned his head and watched. When he was over the amusement, Erestor leaned forward in his seat, so that he was eye to eye with Elrohir.

“Elrondion. When I have finished with you, you will know the furthest extremes of sensation, of pain and pleasure, of dependence and submission. You will be so finely tuned to my demands that I shall hardly have to speak to secure your obedience and reactions.”

As he spoke, he slowed the torrent of his words so that Elrohir would hear and be drawn in. The younger elf’s eyes darkened, almost in hunger, and in that he showed a definite difference to Elladan. Elrohir wanted those extremes. He had probably dreamed of them.

“I have so many things I wish to do to you,” Erestor said softly, and Elrohir gulped.

“Yes, Master,” he replied, and he seemed almost ready to beg for Erestor to begin.

Reaching out, he twisted his hand in Elrohir’s hair with the intention to hurt, and saw the truth of Elrohir’s response in his eyes. He was much more of a masochist than Elladan, it was quite clear. “We shall begin tonight, this moment,” Erestor said suddenly. He leaned back again, releasing his grip on Elrohir’s hair, and patted his knee.

“What shall I do, sir?” Elrohir was breathless; Erestor could see his pulse beating hard in his throat.

“Lie over my lap. On your belly,” Erestor told him. He was surprised by the sheer thrill of anticipation that warmed him as Elrohir licked his lips.

“Will you beat me?”

“With my hand, yes. To begin.” Erestor wondered it that would suffice for a first time with this one. It would be interesting to see.

Elrohir obeyed without further hesitation, arranging himself over Erestor’s lap as gracefully as he could. Erestor ran his hand appreciatively over Elrohir’s slim buttocks, letting the anticipation build, feeling Elrohir’s heart pounding against his thighs.

Erestor knew many things, and from Elrohir’s reactions so far, he knew without a doubt that he would require real discipline. So, from the beginning his blows were hard, calculated to hurt, yet Elrohir made hardly a sound. The next time Erestor raised his hand, he noted the sudden tension in Elrohir’s body, the determination to take it without flinching, and reassessed what he was doing.

Without any explanation, Erestor reached over to his bedside table, where a book resided that he was currently reading. From within the pages he withdrew a slender bookmark made of supple wood.

The lightest of taps with this would suffice, and would sting far more than his palm. Erestor was very accomplished as a Master. Over time many elves had come to him just as the twins had, to assuage their curiosity when they heard of his reputation, or because they hankered for the kind of treatment he could give. That being the case, Erestor was not ignorant of the tool he held in his hand. Used poorly, it would split skin, but Erestor would not harm Elrohir.

As he brought it down a short distance he adjusted the angle so that the flat of the wood landed on Elrohir’s skin instead of the sharp edges. And now at last the reaction: the swift hiss of pain, the flinch.

“Ahh…” Erestor said, satisfied, and let it fall again and again. Always careful, yet merciless, until Elrohir began to be properly undone.

“Please!” he begged between strokes. “Please, I did not mean to!”

Intrigued, Erestor halted for a moment. “Did not mean to, what?” he asked.

Elrohir flushed, biting his lip.

“Answer, Elrondion.” Erestor made his voice harsh, but did not continue his blows.

“I should not have questioned you!” Elrohir blurted, blushing even redder, so that his face was nearly the same pretty color as his bottom. “There is much more you can demand. My poor imagination cannot begin to guess!” He was squirming, his cock dangling between Erestor’s thighs, unable to thrust against anything for stimulation.

Erestor smiled and kept his voice cold. “You meant to say what you did.” He let Elrohir squirm for another long moment. “You meant to provoke me to show you these things you cannot guess-- and many that you can.”

Elrohir moaned, hanging his head; his long dark hair swirled beautifully upon the floor.

“Didn’t you?” Erestor’s voice darkened, smoky with threat. “Didn’t you mean to do that?”

“Yes,” Elrohir hissed, admitting to the lie.

Swiftly, Erestor put the bookmark down and made to rise, pulling on Elrohir’s hair to make him stand up. Elrohir gave a pained cry, his head angled back in a way that must be uncomfortable.

“Yes… what?” warned Erestor.

“Yes, Master!” Elrohir said, his voice strangled as the savage grip on his hair made tears leak from the corners of his eyes.

“You enjoy pain,” Erestor observed, leaning in close as if to savour Elrohir’s reactions, breathing in deeply, slowly, in contrast to Elrohir’s short panting breaths.

“I…” Elrohir said, and then realised he would not only be answering for himself, but also for his brother. Erestor smiled without humour and let go of his hair, pushing him back to the bed.

“I will give you pain,” Erestor promised, and as Elrohir met his eyes he saw a spark there. Elrohir was not even close to the submission Elladan had shown him. Elrohir was an actor, but Erestor was certain that he had the skill to make this one his too.

“When you beg me for it,” he continued, as Elrohir scrambled backwards onto the bed. “And you will beg eventually. Perhaps not today. But next week, next month, when you crave for something you know I can provide. Then you will beg.”

Elrohir swallowed hard, but Erestor gave him no room, stalking forward with deliberate purpose. “I wonder that you dare mention that night to me, Elrondion,” he purred, and enjoyed the flicker of panic behind Elrohir’s eyes. “I had you in the palm of my hand.” He shot his hand out without warning and curled it around Elrohir’s shaft, a grip that encompassed his balls, fingers sinking lightly into the surface of his skin-- but with a firmness that hinted at the pain he promised.

“You were easy,” he whispered, and was unable to repress a smirk when Elrohir gulped.

“Do you remember what you told me, when I held you thus?” He asked, and watched the panic increase as Elrohir wracked his brains trying to recall information Elladan had never given him-- because this had not happened. Erestor waited, lifting his brows with impatience, expectant.

Elrohir ventured a moan and let his head fall back. Erestor had all he could do not to laugh. “How soon you forget, Elladan-nín. Or are you ashamed?” He squeezed lightly. “You do not blush enough for that, my own.” He could feel Elrohir’s pulse beating in his palm, speeding in response to the pressure. “Come and serve me. If you please me well, I will reward you with what you desire.”

With that said, Erestor let him go and rolled to lie on his back, gratified when Elrohir speedily moved down the bed to comply with his command. He watched as Elrohir remained poised on his hands and knees for a moment before leaning down with his head to lick.

Erestor smiled at that, but then Elrohir reached out a hand to steady his cock upright so he could take it inside his mouth, sucking quite skilfully. Erestor narrowed his eyes and moaned happily. The twins were only youths compared to him, but they were old enough to be very experienced. Erestor was made fully aware of that now as Elrohir sought to please him.

Luxuriating in the feel of Elrohir’s generous lips sliding over his skin, the heavy caress of his tongue, the hot wet pressure, Erestor let one hand rest on the back of Elrohir’s head.

“Very good,” he praised, then wickedly: “just a little tighter would be perfect.” He smiled again, and could feel his teeth were showing as Elrohir obeyed, the sucking pressure just a little more intense so that it was perfect. He opened his eyes to observe the hollow it caused in Elrohir’s cheeks, his head bobbing up and down rhythmically.

“A little deeper now,” Erestor said, and Elrohir obeyed that instruction too. Secretly he began to wonder what he had done to deserve this interest in him, because both of the twins satisfied him in so many ways. Even their deception could not dampen the sudden joy he felt at having them receptive to his mastery over them.

“Better. Now make it so good I can no longer think,” he whispered, and Elrohir paused for a flicker of a moment, then began to improvise. He slid his fingers up between Erestor’s thighs and began to explore in the most satisfactory of ways.

Erestor sighed happily and lay back, content to let Elrohir strive. He could last a great while, if he so wished, and he rather thought he did. He focused on his breathing, relishing the marvelous attention of Elrohir’s mouth, and held off climax by amusing himself with visions of impossible conversations-- such as congratulating the lord of Imladris on his sons’ superlative ability to suck cock.

“You may penetrate me with one finger only,” he granted when Elrohir hesitated with a spit slick finger poised, as if to ask. Though he liked the feeling of an internal caress, he did not make a habit of permitting his subs to top him. If Elrohir had desires in that direction, he would simply have to satisfy them elsewhere... Perhaps…

Ohhh, but the picture that idea conjured was a lovely one indeed, though it did not help Erestor in his quest to delay climax. He indulged the little fantasy as Elrohir’s skillful finger sought and found its goal, and indulged himself so far as to allow a little cry when he came, catching Elrohir’s long hair and knotting it in his fingers, holding him down until he was fully spent.

“Quite acceptable,” he purred, dragging Elrohir up for a kiss, liking the little hitch in Elrohir’s breath as his hair was pulled.

When he was done he settled comfortably on his side, leaning on his elbow while he dragged Elrohir’s right hand down. “Touch yourself for me,” he suggested. “Touch yourself until you come.”

For a long moment Elrohir submitted to his gaze, seemingly caught as he did as he was bid, the sound of his palm against his cock the only noise in the room. Then, it was as if he could not bear the intensity, and he turned his head away as he worked, little grunts of pleasure coming from his lips as he closed his eyes.

He exposed the line of his perfect neck, and Erestor noted that before letting his gaze drift down, watching Elrohir’s hand at work, almost a blur as he worked himself relentlessly towards climax.

After a couple of minutes or so, when Elrohir’s breath began to seize with the nearness of orgasm, Erestor placed a hand on his neck, the pad of his thumb pressed under Elrohir’s jaw so that he could not move his head, digging into the pressure point there. His action caused Elrohir to give a short cry of discomfort.

Leaning in close, Erestor nuzzled at his neck before settling on a spot and biting hard, sucking the blood to the surface. Elrohir finally came with a loud moan, his hand moving slower and slower before stopping completely. Erestor did not relent, adjusting the angle several times to leave a large angry mark on the younger elf’s neck.

When he was done, he nodded, satisfied. They would certainly not attempt to replicate that, although the image his mind presented to him of Elrohir biting Elladan’s neck made a frisson of forbidden lust run through him. At last, Elrohir turned his head and looked at him.

Elrohir’s eyes were wide and dark, his lips wet. Erestor put a hand on his chest, digging in his nails, then dragging them down. Elrohir moaned and shuddered, sensitive in the wake of orgasm. Erestor savored every tremor of the taut muscles in his belly, then continued down along an inner thigh. He thought Elrohir would look lovely with a long line of bites from ear to ankle, and wondered if he would one day be agreeable to a more permanent mark.

But it was far too early for that-- and he could not count on it in any case. He kissed the bruise he had made, resisting the impulse to deepen it.

“Have you thought on what you want of this?” Erestor kissed the bruise again. “I should think, if I were you. I should think very carefully. The longer this lasts, the deeper I will take you into submission and masochism. The deeper you go the more I will hurt you, and the harder it will become for you to resist my commands, or to leave me.”

Elrohir moaned, eyes closed, and did not stir to resist.

“I will play you like a harp, and your cries will be the music,” Erestor warned. “Your father and brother may not understand.”

To Erestor’s surprise, this time his ploy to unsettle did not work, and Elrohir only laughed. Then he gave Erestor an earnest look. “I do not understand,” he said. “Before this, I had played games. But what you describe… the way you speak, of tortures that I should find desire for.” Elrohir shuddered delicately. “I believe you.”

Here again, Elrohir showed his difference to Elladan. He spoke frankly, without fear. No, his moans and his shuddering were anticipation more than anything else. “I think you are cruel, but not evil,” Elrohir said, as if considering. “If I lose myself, you are sure to bring me back.”

Erestor smiled. “Of course. Hurt is different to harm. Be in no doubt, Elrondion, I will enslave you. But I will not leave you weak when you are away from me.”

Elrohir nodded and breathed in deeply, as if he were to seek rest. He looked at Erestor now as if for permission. Erestor considered, then opened his arms and drew the covers over them both. Sleeping with one or the other of them in his bed was becoming quite the habit. Elrohir snuggled close to him, and Erestor could not help feeling something. He slept well, but in the morning he dismissed Elrohir almost immediately, wondering which one of them the night would bring.

 

To be continued...

 

Author's Note: It's Pippychick here. There are a few chapters written that we have not yet posted. I will make updates until they are all used up because I love what we made together, and I think those chapters deserve to be put with the rest here.

Even if TAFKAB never returns, this story will be completed. It's much too important to me to remain unfinished.

But, those things aside, thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!



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