Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

The Teacher	By : pip Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 14764 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 14
- 15
- 16
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Oropher/Elrond, Thranduil/Elrond, Legolas/Elrond, Elrond/Celebrían, Elrond/OFC
Warnings: Slash, het, graphic sex, bdsm, D/s, bondage, canonical character death
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. I do not own the elves within or middle earth. They belong to Tolkien, and I am just borrowing them for a short while. I make no money from this.
Summary: A fanciful, smutty take on what Elrond’s story might have been through the ages.
Author's Note:

Thank you to my awesome reviewers!

Chaotic Binky: As always, thank you so much for your encouraging words. I am so glad you enjoy reading Elrond's story. I think I would certainly have given up at times if not for your reviews.

Micmar: Thank you so much for leaving me a review, and I'm glad you enjoy reading. Just a few words mean so much to a fanfic writer :)

Lily: Awww... don't cry for Oropher. He's the lucky one. He gets to sunbathe in Valinor and wait for everyone else to join him ;)

Chapter Fourteen

III 140

A short while later when they had eaten and returned to the bed together, Legolas let his hand roam lazily over Elrond’s back and buttocks. “Now… about that punishment…”

Too full and content to move away from the threatening hand, Elrond merely turned his head in Legolas' direction and regarded him with a raised eyebrow of disbelief.

“I have welcomed you into my home. Accorded you a private suite with maids and servants to wait on your every whim. Given instruction to my ostlers to give you any creature in the stables you so desire. Had my heralds and musicians preside over countless ceremonies to give honour to your name and your visit. All this I have done,” Elrond declared, beginning to mentally count off the things he had arranged in his mind as Legolas stared at him in the slight grey light of early dawn. Elrond ploughed on, dauntless.

“All this I have done, and still further. I have listened and been obedient to the will of your father. Allowed you to take my body for your tutelage and pleasure when my promises have already been made to another. I have stolen food from my own kitchen in the middle of the night. I have done all of this for you – and still you find something lacking in my hospitality? Something that requires punishment?”

Elrond stared at Legolas, and the Prince said nothing though his hand had not moved from the soft skin of his buttocks and he buried his head in the pillows in an overly dramatic gesture. “By all means,” he continued, registering the slightly muffled sound of his own voice, “humiliate me as well.”

He waited for the first blow to fall in complete resignation, and when it didn't – when Legolas' palm continued to lie heavy and unmoving against his skin he sighed.

“All of the things you have done are my right as a royal visitor,” Legolas noted, a darkness in his voice that Elrond was sure it hadn't possessed before. His earlier tirade over, Elrond listened to the sound of that voice with his eyes closed and face pressed to the pillows. It was Thranduil down to the inflection and tone.

“I did not demand your submission. You chose it of your own free will. This you did at the behest of a friend and a lover whom you left yearning for your return,” Legolas said quietly, but not in defeat. It sounded like a warning. Elrond swallowed.

“If you do not want to teach me this, then I shall not demand it,” Legolas said then, showing mercy when it was exactly the opposite of what Elrond wanted. He raised his head and caught Legolas' gaze. What he saw there made him feel humbled, because Legolas was right, and more – he knew that he was going to have to explain the game to Legolas in detail.

He sat up in the bed and took the Prince's hand to kiss it. “When you humiliate me in this way, you must be firm and resolute. I am your teacher, but not your superior. The aim of this is for you to show me my place.” Elrond dared to look up and the darkness in Legolas' eyes made him close his quickly.

“Show you your place,” Legolas repeated, and Elrond felt his heart skip a beat at what he was about to encourage Legolas to do.

“As a servant to your pleasure and lusts,” he continued. “You should aim to break my spirit so that all that exists within me is the need to please you.”

“And how should I punish you?” Legolas asked breathlessly.

“How would you punish a wilfully disobedient child?” There was a sudden shocked silence, and Elrond feared he had gone too far until Legolas answered him.

“This lesson you teach. Is it your aim to create a monster in me? Because you are making me want to hurt you.”

For a moment he couldn't speak in turn, so dangerous did Legolas sound even in his youth. It excited him to the point he almost let it be, but he needed to explain this. Elrond opened his eyes.

“Not a monster,” he said, not meaning it at all. “You must have mercy in the end. When I ask for it with a word.” The dark look Legolas graced him with faded a little, and he smiled wryly.

“So you consent to this, and when you ask me to I must stop? It seems a little contradictory to me, Lord Elrond.” The fair Prince folded his arms and tilted his head to the side. He was to Elrond completely adorable.

“Not when I tell you that before I even dream of speaking it, I will beg for your mercy, and I will beg you to stop. Would it frighten you if I was so indulgent as to beg you for mercy, Prince Legolas?”

“Lie down,” Legolas commanded, and Elrond complied to this with a fluttery kind of nervousness that he had encouraged it. “What word will it be?”

There were no words in his head. Elrond stared up at the Prince and he felt himself melt a little when Legolas' eyes quickened in excitement. “Shall I choose for you? Perhaps when you want it to end you should call me by name. Until that time I think you can call me 'Highness'. Does that suit you?”

Elrond closed his eyes briefly in respect and arousal. “Yes, Highness,” he said, savouring the feel of the formal title as he felt Legolas' palm on his buttocks again. Oh, it was a monster, and he couldn't be sorry at all, not even when the first blow fell and he gasped at the shock of it, moving slightly away from Legolas' hand. Another and he actually whimpered. It had been so long since he had been subject to it that now he was barely able to keep still.

“You are moving,” Legolas accused haughtily, and Elrond cried out at the third slap. There was a respite while Legolas looked down at him with raised eyebrows.

“I am sorry, Highness,” Elrond breathed. “Perhaps you should restrain me.”

Where that came from Elrond couldn't say, and Legolas took it up easily, weaving it into the game as though he were a seasoned actor. “Restrain you? Ah, yes, you would enjoy that, would you not? You would make yourself into a helpless victim instead of what you are.”

“And what am I?” Elrond questioned, feeling himself moving against the sheets as his body became aroused at this new side to his pupil. He buried his face in the pillows as the slaps began again, not as heavy this time so that he could lay almost still beneath them, feeling his skin heat up in response to the fall of his Master's hand.

“You said you were my servant. Then prove it. Lay still and invite me to abuse you, as I must, as I wish. As I desire... anira-nín.”

The illusion was complete in that moment, and Elrond moaned into the pillows expressively as Legolas tapped his legs, demanding that he spread them a little to take the punishment on the sensitive inside of his thighs as well.

“Why do you blush, Elrond? Is it so humiliating to please me?” came the voice into his private world, and Elrond felt tears sting his eyes. As always the answer was yes and no combined, and there were no words for it.

“Please, Master,” he begged, and a warm chuckle answered him that he was sure he knew.

“Yes, go on and beg me to be lenient with you. But do not forget to invite the touch of my hand in whichever way I choose to bestow it. Will you cry if I continue?”

“I...” Elrond shuddered in release and shame at the words, and yet still the harsh treatment continued until he lay still and accepting beneath it while his skin burned and his tears dampened the pillow beneath his cheek. Begging he had done, and crying too, never once receiving the mercy he asked for. His tears were not of pain, nor yet of humiliation, but for his own love of the treatment he was given. He was inviting it, and there was nothing he could do to stop himself. One reckless exploration of love in his youth had caused this. Led to another, and still another and he did not know how to stop it happening to him again.

“Elrond?” It was Legolas' voice, pulling him back to pay attention, and he listened as the Prince stroked his hair tenderly, the slaps having stopped now, although Legolas' other hand still rested on him as though ready to begin again.

“I do not want to do this,” Elrond said regretfully, meaning so much. There could not be love here, when he had a partner of his own. There could be nothing between them, and yet there already was so much.

“Then ask me to stop,” the voice said gently, almost pleading. “Say my name.”

Elrond opened his eyes at that and saw Legolas sat beside his prone form on the bed. “Legolas,” he murmured, registering the look of relief and smile the Prince gave him. It could not be love. Something inside him hurt at that thought, and Legolas smiled at him strangely.

“I thought you would say it long before this,” he said suddenly, casually dropping the dominant tone. “Did you forget? I was a little worried. And I hurt you. Do you hate me?”

“Of course not,” Elrond said, beginning to feel tired at the demands which were placed on him.

“What usually happens now?” the Prince asked with a frown, and Elrond couldn't keep in a mischievous giggle.

“Well I have been crying,” Elrond noted, wiping at his cheek as Legolas looked on him. “You must hold me, since I am feeling rather sensitive and vulnerable.” He felt a warmth in his heart when Legolas did exactly as he asked, and he relaxed into those strong arms as if it were home. He yawned. “And you of course must tell me how brave I am,” he said.

“How brave you are, Elrond,” Legolas said with more than a little amusement.

“And how much you enjoyed punishing me,” Elrond continued.

“Oh, I did enjoy punishing you, anira-nín,” Legolas said with a kiss to Elrond's brow as his fingers wiped the last traces of tears from Elrond's cheeks.

“And how glad you are that I...” He stopped short before he said he belonged to Legolas. Those were words that could never be taken back.

“Hmm?”

“That I am your teacher,” Elrond revised, and Legolas giggled.

“Your skin is all red and angry,” Legolas said quietly, quickly dropping one hand to cup the curve of Elrond's buttocks so that he gasped and buried his head in the Prince's embrace. Then the touch was gone. “I am glad you are my teacher.”

They lay in silence for a long moment and Elrond could feel reverie creeping up upon him. “Touch me?” Legolas asked, his voice full of innocence and trust. He dragged Elrond's hand to his groin where he proved to be hard and aroused.

“Yes, Highness,” Elrond said with a smirk, closing his hand and manipulating Legolas to release after only a minute or two.

“Mmm... you have good hands,” Legolas said as he stretched and lay down beside his teacher.

“Does that mean I can sleep in peace?” Elrond asked, wanting just a couple more hours before they filled their second day together with lessons.”

“I think that is possible,” Legolas said sleepily. “But I am not promising anything.” They laughed together and held each other as they succumbed to a little more rest before daybreak, and Elrond dreamed of Thranduil...

To be continued....

Author's Note: Thank you for reading, I hope you are enjoying it. :) And yes... next I will be continuing that rather cruel cliffhanger I left earlier, when Elrond finds himself at the mercy of both Thranduil and his strangely dominant partner, Nimbrethil.
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The Teacher