Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

Sin and Slavery	By : pip Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 4273 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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
- 1
- 2
- 3
Author’s Note: Here we go with the next chapter. This hasn’t been beta read.

To my wonderful reviewers:

elfy3: Thank you for commenting! I hope you enjoy this chapter too. :)

ElenadiVita: Thank you :) And thank you for reminding me about the translations. As I’ve come to the Word document, I’ve found them for the first chapter too, but I must have missed them out somehow when I posted.

Binky: Thank you! I’m glad you like Sauron/Maglor. I couldn’t leave them alone now if I wanted to.

tiz: Thank you for reviewing, and I hope you’ll like this chapter too :)

Lioncourt: *giggles* When Sauron sounds nice – it’s usually a really elegant and frightening threat. I fear Maglor is going to find out just what that threat is as this story goes on. Thank you :)

Chapter Two

On his bed of silk and satin, Sauron reclined back while he listened to the sound of his prey’s frantic scrabbling in the next room. The walls were so thick and solid that he wouldn’t have been able to hear it all but for the fact the connecting door was slightly ajar.

The fire crackled and hissed, throwing out deliciously suggestive flickers of light, resembling deformed and tortured shadowy figures that danced for his entertainment. The scratching continued unabated for a while, and Sauron smiled. He would believe it was a mouse or a rat, but scavengers didn’t tend to survive long in this place that was filled with predators.

Just for fun, Sauron sent a wish Maglor’s way – something… pleasant. In the next room, after a lengthy period of silence, the elf eventually moaned. Sauron smiled, breathed in deeply, and closed his eyes. Perhaps later…

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He had been expecting something different to this. He had been ready for punishment. After he had addressed Sauron as his Lord, something in him seemed to go quiet, and he feared he would indeed just fade away. But nothing was that easy, and instead of the pain he had been expecting, he had simply been dragged away by orcs and blindfolded, only to end up in here.

Feverishly, as soon as he was alone, he had torn the blindfold from his eyes, only to find himself trapped in the dark again. At least this time there was a little light. On the far side of the room a giant door stood ajar, and the flickering light of many torches shone out into the room in a beam.

One of his ankles had been secured to the floor by a thick and heavy chain, and as he made his way over to the door, the metal jangled and caused him to drag his leg a little. He only got around two thirds of the way before he stopped suddenly, and almost fell, having reached the extent of the chain that kept him prisoner.

At a loss, he shivered in the dark, still naked, and looked around the room, trying to make out the grey, featureless walls. Was anyone watching him? Maglor managed to shrug, and sighed as he made his way back to the end of the chain, wondering if there was a way to free himself of it – there wasn’t.

Ever more disheartened, he made his way to the wall opposite the door, where a little light still reached, and felt for the giant stones that made up the structure. His fingers found the slight gaps between them and he scraped at them with his fingernails, overjoyed to find the strange warmth had made the cement between the stones dry and powdery.

He worked for a while, forgetful even of the dark as he tried to gauge the depth of the stones, choosing to ignore for now that he wouldn’t be able to escape that way until he found a way to escape the manacle around his leg. The only sound was the slight scratching of his fingernails against the stone, and his own breathing. The work seemed easy, the cement coming away easily until he had to slide his entire hand into the gap he had created.

Of a sudden, the strangest feeling came over him, and he leaned against the wall with all his weight as his eyes slid half-closed. His free palm spread over the stone as if to touch it, and he stood in that attitude for a moment or two as the intense feeling swept through his body. His knees buckled and he slid down the wall in a graceful, fluid motion, as if he was trying to embrace it, the weakness spreading to his arms and fingers so that he held the wall to stay upright rather than sprawl on the dust-covered floor.

Pleasure sparkled through his veins like sweet wine, almost forgotten, never unwelcome, even here, where it should have seemed out of place, and Maglor couldn’t help giving in to it. He moaned once, hungry for touch and for warmth, his member hard and hot against his leg.

Magic! Maglor shook his head to clear it, surprised when the sensation passed away, and somehow lonelier for it too. He swallowed, and the work he had been engaged in lost its appeal.

Now he realised that the stones were bigger than he imagined, and he sighed, resting his head against the wall while he came back to himself, at last noticing that in his haste he had torn away one of his fingernails.

He sucked at the finger a little, tasting his own blood and the dry chalky dust that came from the stone. He was dusty all over now that he cared to pay attention to himself. It was in his hair; mixed with the sweat that had broken out on his face and neck. This place was too warm for a stone building… so unnatural, and then the perception of the dark came back to him.

With nothing to distract him, he looked around him uncertainly, sensing movement in the shadows and solidity where the dark wasn’t touced by the light from the door. That brought his earlier experience of darkness to the forefront of his mind and he shivered.

Slowly, fearing to have been left alone in the dark again, Maglor crawled over in the direction of the door. He couldn’t reach it, but he could reach the light, and he released a pent up breath of relief when he lay in its warmth, as if it would save him from the rest of the room.

Maglor would have been surprised to learn he had been scraping at the wall for hours, but then time had a funny way of slipping past unnoticed in this place. It was something he was soon to learn. As it was, all he knew is that he was tired, and he sank into an exhausted reverie curled up in the light that shone on the stone floor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When he awoke, something wasn’t quite right. At first he thought he was blindfolded again, but then realised he had to open his eyes. As he did so, another wave of pleasure coursed through him, and he moaned as he turned his head drowsily to the side.

He was laid on something soft now, maybe a bed. He was clean and the light was all around him. Probably he was in the room beyond the door. He tried to move, but his arms were secured above his head, and he opened his eyes again – only to find Sauron staring at him.

The magic threatened to consume him again, and he swallowed, shaking his head a little in mute appeal, but it was no use. He heard himself moan as his eyes closed, heat rushing over the surface of his skin like the touch of a lover. He was hard – he knew that, and at once he imagined the sexual act, breathing fast as he lifted his hips from the bed instinctively.

In a part of his mind that wasn’t fooled by any of this, Maglor was furious, and he no longer tried to open his eyes, deciding instead to keep them closed in concentration as he attempted to make his body obey him instead.

“No…” He tried to make it sound strong and forceful, thinking to aid himself by it, but when he heard the word spoken it sounded weak and insincere, and he growled in frustration, that too twisted and corrupted by the magical lust so that it sounded like the purr of a cat.

“Beautiful,” Sauron observed quietly, and Maglor bristled in indignation.

“No,” he said again, and again it sounded pointless. He sighed heavily and opened his eyes once more, spared the wave of disorienting lust this time as he took in his surroundings.

He did indeed lay on a bed that was covered in silk, satin and furs. Many torches burned on the walls, and a single enormous open fireplace dominated the wall opposite the bed, its warmth just reaching them where they lay. Exhausted just from holding up his head long enough to see that, Maglor relaxed, turning his attention now the the dark lord.

As he looked at Sauron, again he felt the lust well up inside him and he tried to hold in the moan, but he couldn’t and as it escaped his lips he swore as well, so that Sauron laughed at him.

When he was able to open his eyes, he breathed in deeply, refusing to feel shame for what was beyond his control. “Stop it,” he demanded, free it seemed to look at Sauron now, and the dark lord only smirked, holding his hands up as if in a show of innocence… but then he laughed, and it was a laugh that made Maglor’s skin crawl.

He struggled in his bonds again, wishing he could cover his ears, because Sauron’s laugh was easily one of the most malicious, mocking things he had ever heard. The lust that swept through him then was welcome, because it took his attention and he went with it gladly for the first time, moaning loudly as if he would find release, but he didn’t.

When he felt the first touch of fingers against his flushed skin, he actually whimpered. It gave the lust a focus and he breathed rapidly as Sauron gripped his waist to push him onto his side.

Completely handicapped, Maglor didn’t even understand the intention – all he knew was that he didn’t want any of it to stop, until he felt Sauron’s hard flesh against his entrance.

“No!” he gasped, stunned at the betrayal of his body as he felt himself raising one leg in submissive invitation. “Do not!” He spoke more to himself than to Sauron, and yet it was the dark lord who answered him.

“Oh, I think it is too late for that, mûl nin… don’t you?” Maglor swallowed thickly, his eyes filling with enraged tears as he felt Sauron taking him. Even that couldn’t dull the magical lust though, and he felt his body relaxing and encouraging Sauron to take more, even as he wanted to scream at the burning pain of it…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you ashamed?” Sauron asked in cruel delight some time later as Maglor lay shaking and sickened by the act the dark lord had just performed with him.

“Yes,” he replied through gritted teeth, wishing his arms were free so that he could wrap them around his defenceless body. Because he was that here – he was completely defenceless, and he realised it now for the first time. There was nothing that Sauron couldn’t do to him – and who would stop it? He had no hope of rescue. No one even knew where he was, and he doubted anyone would care anyway.

“But didn’t you enjoy it?” As he spoke he trailed a lazy finger down Maglor’s spine softly, until Maglor wanted to beg for him to stop.

“Don’t touch me!” he said without thinking, only the intimate chuckle that came from behind him making him realise it came out as a plea.

“You will enjoy it again,” Sauron predicted, and Maglor shivered. The events that had led to this moment assailed him. It was monstrous what was happening to him. Despicable. Any pain he would have endured – any kind of torture – but this? This was hurtful! It was disrespectful… and he should have known that of all the things Sauron could have done to him, he would choose the things that decimated his sense of self, the things that his soul protested against.

Maglor groaned in humiliation, no longer caring now. All he wanted was to escape, or be spared.

“Please,” he began haltingly, thinking to beg consciously if that is what it would take to end it.

“What do you have, Maglor?” Sauron interrupted before he could continue. “What do you continue to live for?”

The questions were his own, had been when he had wandered, and he still couldn’t answer them.

“Do you hope for forgiveness? Or do you truly want punishment? Because it seems to me that you might have wished for this…” Maglor swallowed, sensing something predatory and dangerous in Sauron’s words now.

“I didn’t wish for you,” he said, his voice barely a breath as Sauron wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close. “I didn’t.”

“So… when you wandered all alone, thinking on what you had done, you didn’t wish to atone for your actions?”

Maglor shook his head, wanting to deny everything but knowing he couldn’t. The way Sauron used words made his mind hurt.

“The murderer has become the victim. Being here with me is more than you could have hoped for. You will not fade, because here you can pay for your sins with suffering. How long will it take, do you think? A century for every life? And are we talking about those you killed, or all those you caused to die by the war you started?” Sauron sucked in a deliberating breath. “Mûl nín – I think you should get used to the idea of pleasing me…” Sauron laughed again, and Maglor shuddered.

“I am sorry,” he whispered to no one in particular as he felt Sauron preparing to take him again.

“Good…” Sauron praised, and this time, as he submitted to the dark lord’s desires, Maglor wept.

To be continued…

Translations:
mûl nín – my slave
Hîr nín – my Lord
Herdir – Master

Author's Note: Thank you for reading, please leave a comment! :)
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Sin and Slavery