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
- 16
- 17
- 18
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:

First of all, thank you to my lovely reviewers!

Binky... you always compliment me so much. I never know what to say, except that I am glad you're enjoying the story. Mind you, I quite like the idea of sweeping you away as well – it makes me feel all powerful ;)

Lily... I stopped to get my breath back, and then I wrote this. *offers a tissue for the drool* ;)

Everyone – again just an extra warning for bisexuality. There is het in this chapter, and probably the next one as well. It's taking a lot longer to write this scene than I at first imagined.

Chapter Sixteen

II 3434

It was with reverence between them that they undressed her, the entire thing taking on the slow tenderness of a much-loved sacred ritual. He could hardly believe he was a part of the erotic dance. Forward, and back, and little by little the layers between them disappeared. Layers of silk and satin almost floating to the floor along with every last bit of decorum and responsibility.

Nimbrethil was slight compared to them, and as every item bared more and more of her skin, Elrond felt himself become impatient for it. They marked it in him – both of them – this he knew by the way that Nimbrethil turned and brushed her covered breasts against him, a slight smile on her lips. It was in the way that the King let his hands linger on her hips a little longer than necessary. They made pictures Elrond wanted to paint – though what kind of gallery he would hang them in he had no idea. Nimbrethil with her knowing gaze, surely too knowing to be female, and yet Elrond found himself responding to it strongly.

When she stood proudly in a loose white underskirt, her corset the only thing that kept her upper body safe from their eyes, Elrond felt his hands twitch. As if in a trance, he drew Nimbrethil into his arms with a sigh that sounded far louder than it should have. Thranduil was stood behind her, unlacing the corset so that Nimbrethil kept being pulled away from him only to press tightly into the hardness of his body a moment later.

Kissing like this, her hands in his hair as he felt Thranduil pulling her away time and again. It made their kiss a teasing thing, one moment indescribably gentle as Nimbrethil pulled away and Elrond chased. The next it was akin to passion as their lips crushed together. His fingertips tightened around her waist, and suddenly the material came loose, set free into his hands as Nimbrethil laughed sweetly and turned to face her husband, denying Elrond even a glimpse of her bare chest.

He was so hard, almost painfully so, and yet he could do nothing as he watched them together. Her hair tumbled down over one bare shoulder, leading Elrond to drink in the sight of her naked back, tapering to her waist as Thranduil's fingers slid beneath the band of that last skirt, teasing it down over the flare of her hips as she wriggled sinuously to escape it.

There was a whisper of pleading as Thranduil stooped to kiss her breasts, becoming hidden from Elrond's view as Nimbrethil gasped in pleasure and threw her head back. He dropped the corset with nerveless fingers, only lately registering the whisper had come from him as he moved forward to trap Nimbrethil between them – when Thranduil stood up straight again.

How was it that Thranduil had managed to hide so much from him? Masterful he had been, and Elrond could not deny it – after all, it had brought him to this. And yet, as he stood with his red lips glistening and his eyes darkened in adoration he looked more youthful than even Elrond could remember.

Both he and Nimbrethil were fair, and yet it was the silver in Thranduil's hair that caught and held his gaze as Nimbrethil laughed throatily and leaned back against his waiting body, away from her husband, reaching back to draw Elrond's arms around her waist.

“Isn't he beautiful?” she said encouragingly. Elrond needed no encouragement, and he groaned as he rested his chin on Nimbrethil's shoulder, only to nuzzle her throat as he kept his eyes trained on the vision of beauty before him.

It wasn't just the look of youthful desire that had Elrond entranced, nor yet the striking silver hair and green eyes that made him catch his breath. It was his warrior's physique, the solid muscle combined with it all and even his hardened member, standing proud before his taut stomach. “Beautiful, Mistress,” Elrond murmured in agreement. Nimbrethil turned her head a little as Thranduil's eyes flickered to him, and Elrond groaned.

“He is my slave,” Nimbrethil confided seductively. Thranduil's eyelashes fluttered at that and his muscled chest rose and fell rapidly as he breathed, a look of such heartfelt devotion and pleading on his face that it was almost sorrow. Fortunately, Nimbrethil seemed to understand what he needed even when Elrond didn't.

“He will fall to his knees if I command it,” Nimbrethil said softly. “Would you like to see that, little mouse?” He half expected Thranduil to plead or to remonstrate with the way Nimbrethil talked of him – but he did neither. The Queen took a single step forward, away from Elrond's embrace, and Thranduil sank to his knees before her like spellbound animal. She lifted his chin with a fingertip, and there was only submission in Thranduil's eyes. They were so completely enchanting, watching them was almost like watching a fairy story, and Elrond found himself content to watch.

“How did you fight, slave?” Nimbrethil asked suddenly, her voice stronger than her form would suggest, and Thranduil's eyes flashed.

“With honour, Mistress, though the enemy had none!” He lowered his head suddenly, and Elrond felt his heart ache when he saw Thranduil's shoulders shake. Nimbrethil lowered a hand to pet him as she might a dog or a horse. It didn't seem inappropriate or demeaning at all.

“He was not your responsibility,” she said simply, and Thranduil sobbed once.

“No, Mistress,” Thranduil confirmed in an anguished tone of voice. At this, Elrond suddenly became aware of the lump in his throat, and he knelt beside Thranduil, to offer comfort if he could. The young King looked up, and Elrond automatically raised his hands to brush the wet tears from Thranduil's cheeks with his thumbs, noting in a kind of heartbroken pain just how much he looked like his father.

They stared at each other for a moment, both of them thinking of someone else – and then they kissed. It was not like other kisses they had shared. There was nothing of dominance in here. Instead their trembling hands held each other, as if they were frightened the other would break. Never had he dreamed he would see such vulnerability in Thranduil. He had seemed like a tower of strength, and now that it was here, although he was the elder, Elrond simply did not know how to protect this delicate, fragile thing in his care. Again, it was Nimbrethil who knew what to do.

“Your only charge was to bring yourself back here to me unharmed, and this you have done.” Hearing her voice reminded Elrond that he too, like Thranduil, was kneeling at her feet, and his desire which had waned when he confronted Thranduil's pain, returned suddenly to him. He didn't dare to look up, preferring instead to keep his eyes on her feet. And even in that, he was made aware that she was not male. Her feet were smaller, but not as a child. He felt her hand in his hair too and he allowed her to pet him as he heard Thranduil murmur another respectful affirmative.

Surely they had talked of the war already? When he had been alone, bathing, sleeping, reading Oropher's hidden words – they must have discussed all of this. That was proved to be the case when Nimbrethil walked away from them both and stood by the side of the bed. Still, Elrond couldn't quite raise his eyes, though the lust that burned in his blood demanded it.

“Bring your new pet over here, husband. Let us see what pleasure he is capable of.” His heart began to flutter anew at that, and he finally looked up as Thranduil rose to his feet, taking Elrond's hand to make him stand again too. He was spellbound as he was drawn closer towards her where she stood by the side of the bed. Slender she may be, but she was female, and her body was all curves and hollows. Elrond was suddenly seized with the desire to let the palm of his hand slip down over her waist and hips, just to feel the shape of her body. Her breasts, he imagined cupping in his hands – kneading – while his lips would seek out the hollow of her throat.

Perhaps she knew of his thoughts, for she smiled secretively as Thranduil led him past her and urged Elrond onto the bed after him. Then she was next to him too, and Elrond found himself at a loss for which way to turn. Trapped between them and nervous, Elrond sought familiarity as a child would, angling his head and his body to kiss Thranduil and relishing the King's strength all over again.

But he was aware of Nimbrethil, and when he pulled back for breath, small hands turned his head towards her kiss – and that was all she needed to do, for the rest of him soon followed. Thranduil chuckled as Elrond groaned and held her close to him, his arms full of something too voluptuous to be believed. He lost his way after that, unsure which of them was touching him where, and uncertain as to who was in the middle, since they swapped positions often.

For himself there was so much stimulation that he arched and groaned beneath it. Two mouths intent and seemingly in competition with each other to make him moan. Four hands that fondled, stroked, tickled. And then there were the things he did. His mouth and tongue were always occupied with something, even when Thranduil and Nimbrethil kissed each other. And his hands had so much to explore. Secretly he was jubilant when something he did made one of them whisper or sigh.

There was a crescendo building; over time their touches were more insistent and invasive, their kisses hard and passionate, their skin hot and slippery with sweat. The point of it all was brought home to him rather suddenly when he opened his eyes to find that Nimbrethil had straddled him, her hand pumping him slowly as she prepared to lower herself onto him, to take him inside, and he whimpered a little in desire and the last remnants of nerves.

Oh! How could he have thought that this would feel the same? She took him in slowly, surely just to tease him, and Elrond thrust upwards from the bed instinctively for more, feeling his member encased by her sweet body. It was hot and so wet inside. He could feel every inch of himself caressed as her inner muscles trembled and pulsed around him. She had closed her eyes, her head thrown back as Elrond's hands naturally dropped to her buttocks.

As he did it, he knew from the way he had been introduced to her that it was wrong – but he couldn't stop himself. He raised his knees behind her to control her movements, lifting and lowering her as he thrust up into her waiting body, his eyes drinking in the sight of her breasts as they bounced slightly. A moan came from her parted lips, followed by a sharply indrawn breath as Elrond lifted her again – and then her eyes opened.

“Show him his place, husband,” she said breathlessly, but in complete control, and Elrond felt himself shiver. He still couldn't stop though, not even as he saw Thranduil out of the corner of his eye. Elrond let her fall again, his hips driving up to meet her, thrilled to the point of near violence when he felt her take all of him inside again.

He didn't care when he felt Thanduil pulling his legs straight, seemingly to tie his ankles to the bed. He just sat up and he was strong enough to control her still, even though the darkness in her eyes should have given him warning.

They were closer now in this position, Elrond with one arm around her waist to hold her to him. “You will be punished,” she warned as she moaned again, their lips close enough to kiss, though they didn't, and Elrond closed his eyes as he continued to take her.

“I know, and I do not care,” he said slowly, his desire making him completely fearless. Nimbrethil laughed, and he shook his head, becoming more violent in his movements to make her stop.

“Oh, you will, little leaf. You will care,” she said softly. Elrond snorted at that – what could she possibly do to him? “When you are completely helpless,” she whispered, and Elrond expected the threat, expected to find it laughable. “Why, then I will let him do it.”

Elrond looked around in alarm, and managed a cry of surprise when he found Thranduil by the side of him. Now that the King had secured his feet, he took Elrond's hands and bound them behind his head, using one heavy hand to push Elrond's upper body back down to the bed.

“No! No!” he remonstrated, trying to struggle and almost whimpering when he realised how impossible it was. He looked down his body, and saw that Nimbrethil was now free to do what she wanted, as slowly as she liked. The thought made him moan wretchedly. He turned his head and found himself gazing at the King where he sat. There was a look of amusement in Thranduil's eyes as he bent to kiss Elrond's lips briefly. One hand slid behind Elrond's head and then he sat up again, scooting closer as Nimbrethil began to move on him – as slowly as he had feared – keeping back the climax that had almost been his.

He jumped when he felt Thranduil touch his lips, and opened his eyes to find himself faced with the King's erection. He sighed because he could, because the pleasure of Nimbrethil using him was exquisite, and because he wanted to taste. Oh, he wanted to be used like this, even though he needed to be tied down for it. With eagerness he opened up for Thranduil to slide inside his mouth and was vaguely surprised when the King only toyed with him, rubbing the head over his lips, smearing the fluid that leaked from him there so that Elrond licked his lips and chased it for more.

At last, feeling somewhat humiliated and insulted, Elrond tried to turn away, only to find that Thranduil still held his head still. At that point he found his mouth was at last filled with the hard length of the King, and he tried to breathe – too late – sucking instead as Thranduil moaned so low in his throat it was almost a growl.

He knew Nimbrethil watched him pleasuring Thranduil as well; could feel it in the way she clenched around him and that made him moan, his vocalisation vibrating around Thranduil so that he whispered words of coaxing and praise. Praise that made him harden inside her and almost come. Oh, it was perfect with the three of them! How could he have been so blind as to not see this? Had he really thought at the beginning that it was madness?

To be continued...

Author's Note: Thank you for reading, I hope you are enjoying it. Reviews will make me write faster.
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The Teacher