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Taming the Twins	By : Pippychick_TAFKAB Category: +Third Age > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 4629 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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 List
- 9
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- 11
Chapter Ten
Elladan did not balk at following Erestor to the refectory, and Elrohir followed meekly in his wake. Only when they arrived did the trouble begin, as Elrohir attempted to sit and lunged back upright with a loud gasp, drawing concerned looks from a few elves nearby.
“Kneel, tad-dal.” Erestor made the epithet sound fond, as if Elrohir were a treasured pet. When Elrohir awkwardly obeyed, kneeling trembling at his side, Erestor gentled him, stroking a hand down his long, dark hair. Elladan froze, unsure what to do; after a moment, he mirrored Elrohir’s action, kneeling on Erestor’s other side and bowing his head, his cheeks blushed bright crimson.
“Very good,” Erestor said calmly, his absolute ease giving the curious elves their cue, and slowly each of them turned back to resume their breakfasts… Each of them except for Glorfindel, who continued to watch with unabashed fascination.
Erestor began to feed his pets, giving each of them handfuls of fruit to nuzzle from his cupped palms; after this had begun, Glorfindel finally made up his mind and rose to join them, bringing his plate and cup. Without asking, he sat down opposite them all to watch. Erestor noted a certain amount of colour in his fair cheeks and suspected he would be moving stiffly when he arose to leave again, more than likely sporting an erection.
The twins kept their eyes on the floor; by now both of them were bright red with embarrassment, Elrohir squirming slightly against the discomfort of the plug he bore.
“I cannot believe Elrond sits behind his table as if nothing is amiss,” Glorfindel confided at length. “You dare much.”
“Elrond has never thought to quibble with my methods; he understands their effectiveness.” Erestor wiped his sticky hands on the napkin. “And his sons are grown; they make their own decisions, foolhardy though those might be.”
Elrohir raised his head to look at Erestor, then switched his gaze to Glorfindel, lifting his chin in pride. “You need not speak as though we are not here,” he said. Erestor did not bother to check him, but waited, curious to see how much trouble he would get himself into.
“I am more than two thousand years old,” he continued, scathing. “Do you think our parents should be responsible for us for all eternity? Where are your parents, Seneschal?”
Before Glorfindel could respond, Erestor reached out and twisted Elrohir’s ear cruelly, making him hiss in pain. “Apologise to your elder and better,” he advised softly. On the other side of him, he could sense Elladan trembling. “Now.”
“I am sorry!” Elrohir gasped, his head twisting at an unnatural angle to compensate for Erestor’s grip on him. “Please, Master!”
“It is of no account,” said Glorfindel hastily, though the usual amiable quality of his voice was rather subdued. “I lost my parents in Gondolin,” he said, uncertain, glancing at Erestor as if for confirmation. Erestor nodded slowly. Sometimes, his friend had trouble recalling his previous life. At last, he let Elrohir go.
“I am truly sorry, Glorfindel,” Elrohir said, and he was clearly quite genuine. “I did not mean to cause you to remember that.”
Before Glorfindel could accept the apology, Erestor intervened. “I apologise on behalf of this impudent servant, and I will ensure he is appropriately disciplined. He will learn that he is not to address others without leave while he is under my bond, and he will learn the folly of offering insult to one who came out of Gondolin, earning all possible honour with his sacrifice.” Erestor inclined his head, gracious.
Glorfindel flushed, pleasantly embarrassed.
“You must come and visit me,” Erestor suggested. “Disregard Elrohir’s rudeness; I will ensure it does not happen again. He will apologise to you properly when next you meet him.”
“Perhaps I will venture past, when next I find myself at a loose end.” Despite himself, Glorfindel was clearly fascinated.
Erestor resumed feeding Elladan, but did not provide Elrohir with further nourishment except to give him as much juice as he wanted at the end of the meal. He had eaten sufficient food to remain healthy, though not enough to satisfy. However, it would not do to have him grow dehydrated.
When he had finished, he rose, but as Elrohir began to follow suit, Erestor set his hand on the ellon’s head.
“The first punishment for your rudeness will be revocation of your privilege to walk upright,” he said quietly. “Accompany me upon your knees, tad-dal.”
As usual, the refectory had emptied, and they were the last ones out. Erestor made certain of that, since he thought Elrond might draw the line at such a public display as Elrohir crawling at his feet. To Elrohir, however, it would feel just as shameful, even if only Glorfindel and his own brother saw him.
Erestor did not hurry, giving Elrohir time to crawl beside him. For a while, he looked down at Elrohir thoughtfully, then turned his attention to Elladan, who had not said a word, nor drawn attention in any way. “Elladan-nín,” Erestor said. “You and your brother room together, do you not?”
“Yes, Sir,” Elladan replied immediately, head bowed.
“Good. We will go there again, all of us. When you have dressed, you will each choose some clothing which will be kept in my rooms. You will submit to my approval for your choices.”
“Yes, Sir.” This from both of them together. Erestor smiled inwardly, and watched Elrohir until they reached the door of the dining hall, then allowed him to his feet so that he could do Erestor’s bidding.
Erestor leaned back against the closed door as the two busied themselves about their task. He had been in here before with Elladan, but now he let his eyes linger over their sleeping arrangements, ascertaining if one of them was tidier than the other. He watched the two of them as well, and saw how Elrohir was waiting at each moment to see what Elladan would choose. He chose the same, and Erestor smiled grimly. Such a tactic would not work for him. In fact, anything Elrohir chose would be rejected, unless he really did have a dress in there.
Elladan completed a smile pile of clothes, carefully chosen to suit more than one occasion: a formal array, an outfit for riding out, casual clothes suited for strolling the lanes of the city, night-clothing, and an outfit chosen for seductive beauty. “This will do quite admirably for now, Elladan-nín.”
Elrohir presented his pile likewise, and Erestor pawed through the items careless of order, frowning. “This will not do. No, nor this. Nightclothing? You will sleep naked in my bed, so you need none of that. What, do you think you will fight orcs while wearing my leash? Return this to its place. I think you have not earned the right to attend feasting. You insult me with these choices.”
Elrohir stood miserable, his chin on his chest.
“Have you no appropriate attire in your wardrobe?” Erestor shook his head and went to investigate, rejecting entire swathes of his wardrobe at a glance. “No, you do not. Very well. If I must have some dresses made for you, then I will order it done.”
“Dre--” Elrohir began to gasp aloud, indignant, then bit his lip. “Yes, Master.”
“There is a single item here that will suffice for my purposes.” Erestor nudged it across the floor with his toe. “Bring this to my hand. Use your teeth.”
Elrohir sank to the floor reluctantly and went to fetch the item: a long leather riding crop with a carved wooden handle, elegantly made to fit well in the hand with a smooth ribbed grip and a knob at the end. He picked it up by its flexible middle and brought it to Erestor with ill-grace. Elladan watched, his eyes wide, chewing anxiously at his lip.
“Undress then arrange yourself over the edge of the bed, belly down,” Erestor told Elrohir in a tone that brooked no refusal.
For a moment, he thought Elrohir might try to refuse, but then he seemed to swallow his pride and went where Erestor told him. Once Elrohir was laid face down, Erestor walked up to him slowly. He could hear the muffled sound of Elrohir trying not to sob and sat down beside his prone form. With his free hand, he rubbed the knuckles of his fingers over Elrohir’s lower back, soothing.
“What is this now? Tell me.” Erestor spoke softly, calm and encouraging, so that Elrohir would not feel threatened.
“I do not want to do this. I do not understand why you like Elladan, and dislike me. I was very careful. I chose the same, but because it was me, you…” Elrohir stopped speaking and drew in a great breath. He said nothing more. Erestor sighed and considered him.
“Do you think that I can reward you, after your performance at the breakfast table? Do you even realise that you hurt one of my dearest friends?”
“I am sorry! I am sorry!” Elrohir burst out, twisting around his upper body to glare balefully. “You try to trick me, but it is not just now. You told me yourself. You knew it was me whom you were speaking to, and you told me. You told me you like him best!”
Erestor smiled and raised a hand to Elladan, who had started towards the bed.
“Did you think you would lie to me and not suffer any consequences?” he asked simply.
Elrohir looked sullen. “Elladan lied too.”
“Yes, and like you, his punishment for that is ongoing.” Erestor switched his gaze to Elladan, who paled and then looked down and away. “Now, as you so succinctly observed for yourself earlier. You are over two thousand years old. If you wish to profit from the lessons I can provide, you will take whatever consequences are due for your childish behaviour earlier like the adult you are. Spread your legs!”
Reluctantly Elrohir did so, burying his face in the coverlet, and Erestor eased the plug out of him, wrapping it in a cloth and setting it aside. He took up the crop, considering the bend and flex of it. It had a narrow, limber shaft capped with a tab of leather, and it would sting nicely, but it would not do much damage unless he exerted excessive strength.
“Three stripes for your cruel words to Glorfindel. And for your disrespect to me, I will put the whip handle inside you and fuck you with it until you come.” He touched Elrohir’s back softly. “You will have to earn my cock, if you prefer it.” He glanced to Elladan.
“Come sit on the bed and hold your brother’s hands. It will reassure him and help him be still.” And too, it would give Elladan something more productive to do than fretting and reconsidering their choices.
Elladan arranged himself hastily, and Elrohir grasped his hands, then the two shifted instinctively until they held one another’s wrists, a solid clasp. Elrohir turned his face to one side; he was already wet-cheeked, but he held on firmly and did not squirm to escape when Erestor laid the crop against his skin.
“You will count the blows, and when I have finished, you will thank me for correcting you.” He moved the crop, placing its tip at Elrohir’s mouth. “Kiss the whip, Elrohir-nín.”
Elrohir advanced his lips, reluctant, his eyes squeezed shut. They brushed the leather. Erestor decided it would do, for now.
Again he caressed Elrohir with the shaft of the whip, considering. “I will begin now,” he warned, considerate, and swung.
Elrohir jerked, flinching much harder than was warranted for such a mild punishment.
“Count, my brother,” Elladan breathed before Erestor could speak.
Elrohir barked “one” through clenched teeth, knuckles white.
Elladan raised anxious eyes to Erestor, but did not protest; he knew this was hardly the punishment his brother might have received.
“It is worse in his mind, Elladan.” Erestor stroked Elrohir’s unmarked cheek, soothing him. “For he knows his punishment is just, and he feels that shame keenly.”
Elrohir made a soft noise and turned his face down again.
Erestor struck a second time, on the unmarked cheek, and again Elrohir flinched, making a muffled sound that might have been “two.” Erestor decided to let it pass.
“One more, and then you will be my elleth once again, no longer an animal to be beaten.” Erestor moved the crop, considering, and decided to lay the third stripe crossing the other two. “This one will be the hardest, Elrohir. But do not fear. It is almost over.”
He swung without pausing to let Elrohir tense up, and this time Elrohir arched, squealing, his body bending into a bow. Elladan held him steady so he did not flop off the bed.
Since Elrohir had been wearing the plug, Erestor did not need to ask Elladan to provide him with anything. He reached into a pocket of his robes whist Elrohir was still recovering and brought out a small bottle of oil he had taken with him, just in case.
“Three,” Elrohir managed at last, while Erestor was busy spreading the oil over the handle of the crop.
“Very good. Now you must relax, Elrohir-nín,” Erestor said softly. Elladan made to move away, but Elrohir held tight to his hands.
“Don’t, muindor,” Elrohir whispered harshly. “Don’t leave me!” Elladan bit his lip but stayed in his place, squeezing Elrohir’s clutching hands in reassurance. Erestor was glad to see it, but then turned his attention to what he had to do next.
The crop handle was slender and short, but it was hard, and it was textured. With one hand, careful to avoid the marks he had just made, he held Elrohir’s arse cheeks apart, while the other pressed the handle against him, not quite entering him.
“Relax, Elrohir,” Erestor ordered, and at Elrohir’s next exhale of breath, the handle slid inside him a little way. He gasped, his legs twitching as if he would move. Quickly, Erestor placed the flat of his palm to Elrohir’s lower back to keep him still. He could damage himself if he struggled with this inside him.
“Stay quite still,” Erestor urged. “Let me fuck you like this.”
Elrohir moaned, but in despair not lust, as Erestor pressed the hand forward an inch, and then another. The sight of it disappearing into Elrohir’s body made his breath shorten and his pulse quicken.
“I wish you could see yourself as I see you, Elrohir. You are very beautiful indeed.” Erestor watched for a few seconds longer. Most of it was in now, and Elrohir should feel it soon. Sure enough, a long moan of startled pleasure came from Elrohir as the handle sank home. All it would take were short little movements. Erestor gave them to him, recalling the exact nature of the carving on the handle and how it might feel.
“Master!” Elrohir cried out. “Please! Don’t!”
Erestor continued with the slight in and out movements of his hand. “Does it feel good?” he asked, and Elrohir gave him an eloquent lustful moan in response. “I have many toys like this,” he confided. “And I will use them all on you.” He paused for Elrohir to enjoy the sensation of being had like this. “I daresay after a short period of time, you will come to have your own favourites.”
Elrohir seemed beyond answering him, quivering, his lashes sinking shut. His mouth opened in a low moan and he shook all over, pushing back. Erestor smiled, pleased.
“Like that? Very well.” He shifted and Elrohir’s arms crumpled, the pillow beneath him muffling his moans.
“If you like this toy so much, I will use it often,” he said softly. “Look, Elladan. He cannot control himself.”
Elladan did, his cheeks pink, as Elrohir sank toward the mattress, unable to hold himself up. His cock touched the sheets and he jerked, whimpering, unable to keep from thrusting back on the crop inside him and forward against the soft eiderdown.
“A towel, Elladan, so he does not spoil his bedding.”
Elladan let go of his brother’s hands and awkwardly tried to arrange a towel beneath Elrohir, touching him as little as possible. Elrohir did not seem aware, twisting and writhing, half-fucking himself on the crop Erestor held. He made throttled moaning sounds, low and frantic in his throat.
“Shall I stop?”
“No! Please!” Elrohir groaned the words, bone deep and desperate. He had begun to perspire, his skin slick with dew. All Erestor had to do now was hold the crop steady and tap upon it with his fingernails, knowing the vibration would carry throughout the wood. Through his hand he could feel Elrohir’s muscles at work in response, contracting then relaxing.
“Very good,” he praised, and then a few moments later Elrohir seemed to collapse, his left hip dropping down onto the bed, so that Erestor could just see the issue spill from him onto the towel as he groaned. Then he lay facedown on the bed, completely still, breathing quickly like a shocked animal.
Gently, Erestor pulled the riding crop from his body, and it made a wet sucking sound as it exited him.
Elladan, who had been hovering, reached out to touch his brother’s shoulder, hesitant as he looked at Erestor. Elrohir’s response was immediate, for he flinched. “Oh, Valar, don’t touch me!” he begged, his body suddenly trembling, though he did not move.
“What is wrong with him?” asked Elladan faintly. Erestor smiled.
“He only needs time to recover. He is experiencing an intensity of sensation he has never known before.” Erestor turned to stare at Elladan, waiting to see how he would respond. Elladan backed away a little, confused.
“Oh,” he said, “but he does not move.”
“I can’t move,” said Elrohir, his voice muffled by the pillows. Elladan looked at Elrohir uncertainly while Erestor just barely managed to contain his smirk, then back at him.
“Are you in need?” Erestor asked, giving him a frank look up and down. Elladan’s eyes widened.
“No, Sir!” he said, backing away another step.
“Very wise,” Erestor noted darkly. “You should conserve your strength for tonight.”
Elladan licked his lips, betraying his fear, and Erestor relented. “He is well, but he has spent his strength, and his pleasure was so intense it has left him oversensitive. His legs will be weak for a time. When he has recovered enough to be touched, I will carry him back to my room, where we will care for him properly. For now, go and clean this.” He handed Elladan the crop, and he took it gingerly, tip first. “Wash it thoroughly, then oil it well. I think Elrohir will wish to feel it inside him again before too long. Wash the plug as well, Elladan-nín. I will not be placing it inside him again today.”
Elladan retreated in haste and Erestor hummed to soothe Elrohir, who lay struggling to breathe normally.
“Are you punished or are you rewarded?” Erestor mused. “Both, I think, my brave one. You did well. Though you made a start with your words today, I will expect you to offer Glorfindel a formal apology for your insult when you next meet him.”
Elrohir murmured what might have been agreement, or might have been surrender. Erestor ventured to touch him, keeping his hand firm and neutrally positioned, slowly easing him back toward normalcy.

To be continued...

Authors' Note: Thank you for reading, we hope you had fun!

Translations:
tad-dal – two-legged animal
- 9
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Taming the Twins