Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

The Teacher - Missing Scenes	By : pip Category: -Multi-Age > General Views: 4116 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Tolkien's world, middle earth, Lord of the Rings or any characters. I make no money from this.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Author's Note: This chapter was written for TAFKAB. This is an extra lesson from when Legolas first visits Elrond and Imladris, sent by Thranduil. Enjoy!

Extra Lessons 1

This had been on his mind since he had brought the subject up during their lesson on punishment. Elrond fingered the sashes he owned and picked out some particularly soft ones made of silk.

Turning with them in his hands, he stood for a long moment in admiration. Legolas was still sleeping, sprawled on his back on the white sheets and pillows, his forearms resting beside his face so that Elrond could see the inside of his wrists.

Suddenly, he was very tempted to tie Legolas to the bed whilst still in reverie, imagining easily how he would react to finding himself restrained upon awakening. The thought of it made him draw in a deep breath of desire, and then it was too late anyway: Legolas stirred.

Elrond watched in silence as he rolled over, one arm stretching out to the side of the bed that was empty before he sat up, disoriented. When he saw Elrond standing watching him, he smiled in invitation.

“Why are you over there, so far away?” he asked, already wanting. “Come here,” he said, and Elrond obeyed gladly, dropping the items on the bed as Legolas reached out, and then they were in each other's arms, tumbling into the softness of the pillows.

Over the past few days, he had discovered that Legolas' first sleepy kisses in the morning were quite endearing. Legolas was easy to take advantage of at those times, so easy to love like this that Elrond had to admit he had already given in.

When they had finished saying good morning to each other, Elrond sat up a bit, Legolas' arms linked around his waist, the blond elf's face pressed against his chest. Usually, now would be the time he demanded Elrond to use hands on him, but he forestalled that with a question. “How do you feel about a new lesson today?” he asked, and his pupil looked up at him, excitement in his eyes.

“Yes! What will it be?” he asked, so terribly enthusiastic that Elrond laughed, delighted as ever by him. He picked up the sashes again, and showed them to the Prince, whose eyes darkened.

Quite suddenly, Elrond found himself on his back as Legolas crawled over to dominate him, understanding immediately what the new lesson was. “Yes,” he said. “You would be my helpless victim instead of what you are.” Clearly, he remembered.

Elrond felt Legolas' morning erection pressing against his hip, and for an instant he felt extraordinarily weak. “No,” he said. “Or at least, not yet.” Legolas didn't move, didn't give one inch. Elrond let the tiniest of smiles twitch at the corner of his lips, and then felt just a little bit wicked. “You must allow me to show you first.”

Something changed then, the tenor of the desire in Legolas, but it was still there. He backed away, sitting on the side of the bed. “You want to do it to me?” he asked, something of fear and arousal at play in his tone.

“Yes,” Elrond said, feeling somewhat liberated as he turned to lay on his side.

“I will not be a victim,” said Legolas, something cold in his voice now. “Not even yours.”

Elrond smiled. So that was what bothered him. “What say you to being my plaything then?” he suggested seductively, and Legolas turned to look at him. “My toy. To do with whatever I please.”

That pink tongue darted out to moisten his lips, and Elrond knew his words were working. He let them settle for a long moment, until Legolas spoke again. “This idea,” he said slowly, his eyes wide. “It creates a strange kind of fear in me. I should not want it.” He appeared to consider, then held out one of his hands hesitantly, as if afraid Elrond would chop it off.

Elrond silently took hold of his wrist and encouraged him to lie back on the bed. “You will not hurt me?” Legolas said then, quietly, almost pleading. Elrond smiled.

“I could never hurt you,” he said, taking one of the silk sashes into his other hand as he sat up. “Do you trust me?” he asked. Slowly, Legolas nodded, biting his lip. “Then watch what I do, so that you know how to do it to me later on,” he instructed.

That seemed to calm Legolas somewhat, even though it was his hand being bound to the bedstead. Elrond took his time to make the knot, demonstrating how he wrapped the silk around Legolas' wrist so that there was still a little room, enough for a finger to fit inside the binding. “If you make these too tight, they will hurt,” he advised, quite serious, and Legolas nodded.

Elrond walked around to the other side of the bed, vaguely aware that Legolas was testing the single restraint. He took the Prince's other wrist and gave it the same treatment as Legolas watched the repeated demonstration in silence.

After that, he made quick work of Legolas' ankles, securing them in the same fashion to the bottom corners of the white painted iron frame bed as the Prince gasped and whimpered in arousal. Elrond did not look, for if he did, he suspected he would not be able to finish his task.

When he did finally look up, the last of the knots completed, Legolas was staring at him, his breath coming fast and shallow , trembling in desire. Legolas pulled at the bindings and closed his eyes as if to escape. “Are you afraid?” Elrond asked. The sight of the beautiful Prince tied to the bed made him almost ache with want, and he knew without touching himself that he was already hard.

“Elrond,” Legolas said on a moan. “Why do I like it so much?” The innocent sincerity of the question made Elrond give in and touch himself briefly, drawing in a sharp breath through his teeth.

“Because you are giving yourself to me completely, without reservation,” he told Legolas. “Because you are inviting me to use you in any way that I wish.”

Legolas gave a lingering sigh, and opened his eyes again, cloudy with pleasure. He struggled, very slightly, and then whimpered. Elrond moved to sit by the side of him, resting a hand on his helpless body, feeling him shiver at the significance of the touch because he could do nothing to prevent it.

“How do you wish to use me?” Legolas asked, looking at him again, stumbling over the words a little. Elrond had a sudden vision of Legolas on the bed, his hips raised with pillows, while Elrond took him, over and over, thrusting deep inside his body until Legolas cried and pleaded with him for release and freedom.

If he were to do that, Legolas would never allow anyone to restrain him again. Regretfully, Elrond let that fantasy go, but dragged his fingertips down over Legolas' belly, not quite touching his hardness.

Some of the vision must have showed in his face, for Legolas struggled again even as he moaned in powerless lust. “Touch me...” he begged.

“I think I will,” Elrond said, pretending to deliberate. “But with my lips.” So saying, he leaned over Legolas, placing his hands on the Prince's hips to keep him still, and captured his erect member with his mouth, instantly suckling as he moved his head down, then slowly dragged his lips back up. Legolas keened, and Elrond found that reaction quite rewarding.

Elrond took his time, giving pleasure but teasing too, just enough so Legolas would remain constantly aware of his captivity. But when he bent his will to finishing Legolas, the Prince did not last long. Elrond's experience was too great, and he swallowed everything Legolas gave him, ending with a series of lingering licks at his soft member that made Legolas shudder and almost giggle.

At last he sat up, and Legolas looked at him, eyes half-lidded in pleasure and satisfaction. “Very good, Legolas,” he said at last. “So beautiful. Being bound to my bed like this suits you very much.” The Prince moaned and turned his head on the pillows, so Elrond took advantage of that little movement to lean forward and bite his neck, leaving a little mark on his ivory skin.

Soon after that, he set Legolas free, and once he had done so, Legolas embraced him.

“Thank you, Peredhil,” he said, still shivering slightly, and Elrond laughed.

They had a break then, a leisurely bath and some sustenance. Although all the while, in Elrond's mind, he could not forget what awaited him, and his arousal never did fully die down. Even while he took his time to wash and comb out Legolas' beautiful hair. While he marvelled at Legolas' youthful exuberance and found himself stroking the Prince's second erection in the bath. Even while he nibbled on slices of apple and cheese and hot toast, he found his gaze moving constantly to the bed, and the silk sashes that lay upon it.

By the time they returned there, Elrond was almost quivering with tension. Had he guided Legolas enough? He had shown it to him, but did he fully understand the trust involved? Elrond bit his lip as he reclined on the bed for Legolas, not entirely surprised to find himself hard almost immediately.

Legolas took the first of his wrists, and Elrond swallowed. “You remember how to tie the knots?” he asked, though that wasn't what he wanted to ask. He wanted reassurance. He thought Legolas might see that too, judging by the small smile his question provoked.

“I remember,” Legolas said, quite self-assured as he set to work. Elrond concentrated on his breathing, trying to ignore the growing nervous trembling in his limbs. It became worse despite his efforts when Legolas took hold of his other hand.

He silently tested the restraints when Legolas went to work on his ankles, and they were very secure. He wouldn't be escaping them until Legolas set him free. He noted the shaky nature of his breath, and tried to control it, but it was impossible, especially when Legolas walked back to the bed.

“Can you escape?” Legolas asked, as if uncertain. Elrond shook his head, but then realised that wasn't enough. He sighed and pulled at the knots Legolas had made. After a few seconds he really did test them, but there was no give at all. He sighed again, but this time it came out as a breathy moan.

“I am yours, Legolas, to do with as you want.” He licked his lips, and took another one of those shallow breaths. “As I have been since you first set foot in Imladris.”

Why had he said that? It was true, and yet... Elrond watched Legolas catch the meaning, and his eyes darkened. Elrond shut his quickly. What would Legolas do? Inexperienced, curious, playful Legolas. If he hadn't been so nervous, Elrond might have been able to think. What had Legolas wanted from the beginning, over and over again?

The Prince would not do what he did, Elrond knew that when he felt oiled fingers pressing beneath him, seeking entry. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he began to understand, and he moaned suddenly, loudly.

“Please!” he whispered, but there was no way to say it. His own words came back to taunt him then.

Because you are giving yourself to me completely, without reservation. Because you are inviting me to use you in any way that I wish.

The vision he had seen of Legolas, crying, begging, while Elrond took all the pleasure his body could provide. It resolved itself into something more truthful now. The one begging in the vision was himself, and for all that he found he still wanted it anyway.

Elrond felt one of Legolas' fingers penetrate him, and it was a difficult angle because of the way he was bound to the bed. He shook his head, and then said something he was sure to regret. Something that would guarantee his own fate, but the inclination to instruct was too deeply embedded in him to resist.

“Use the pillows, Legolas,” he suggested patiently. “Put them beneath my hips and you will find it easier to touch me that way.” Easier to take me, his mind provided, and Elrond shook his head and groaned.

The finger pulled out of him, too fast, making him inhale sharply. But then Legolas was taking the soft pillows from behind his head and following his instructions. He was a party to this. It was all his own fault. Elrond felt his lower body raised up by the cushioning, and as a result it increased the tension of the bindings so that he could not move at all. Not even to struggle.

If Legolas noticed his sudden stillness, he did not mention it. Instead, one slender finger pushed inside of him again. But there was a purpose to Legolas' touch besides the usual, and Elrond felt it. The one finger pressed against him inside, methodically, all around, further in. As if Legolas was looking for something, and quite suddenly Elrond knew this could be worse.

“Legolas, wait!” he said then, too late, because Legolas found what he was looking for.

Elrond really could not move, but all at once he didn't want to anyway. His breath was merely a single slow open-mouthed inhale as Legolas rubbed that finger against his prostate. He might have closed his eyes, he couldn't tell. Everything felt warm, and he could feel his erection leaking. He managed to raise his head enough to see that he hadn't come. But his skin was becoming shiny wet with clear fluid. His head dropped down with a little thud onto the mattress, but Elrond felt he might be falling.

Legolas suddenly seemed to note Elrond's silence and surrender. The finger stopped massaging, but didn't move away and Elrond actually did cry. Little broken sobs of pleasure that only slowly faded.

“D-don't...” he shivered, all the way down to his toes. “Don't stop.” He should have explained this, when he'd taken Legolas and the Prince had felt it for himself. But he hadn't, and he was very sorry for it. Now, he was certain to be tormented.

“What is it? What makes you do this?” asked Legolas, all curiosity, and then pressed it again once as if to measure Elrond's reaction. Elrond moaned this time, given time to express the pleasure. Again, and again he moaned for Legolas. It was completely beyond his control. Legolas giggled at him.

“Oh, don't,” he said, and then Legolas did it again. Elrond forgot what he was meant to be saying. Privately, he vowed to repay Legolas for this, in exactly this way.

After a minute more of the pleasure and torture, it seemed Legolas was finally feeling his own lust, and his fingers stopped that internal massage and spread oil in him quickly. He was getting to be quite proficient at that part, and Elrond secretly marked it.

Now it was to be the vision from earlier. Legolas entered him fast and deep, making Elrond cry out in the quiet of the Prince's room. The oil and massage made his body welcoming, and Legolas took full advantage, his thrusts so deep that Elrond was soon calling out his name. And he begged to be set free from the cruel bindings. Legolas did not relent. He begged for Legolas to touch him, and at least there, eventually, he obtained some mercy, feeling Legolas' hand wrap around him. So good!

It didn't take Elrond long to come, but it took Legolas much longer. So much so that Elrond felt a little sore by the time the Prince came inside him. But then, at last, Legolas released him from the knots, and Elrond knew they had hurt for some time, but he sighed when he saw tell tale red lines on his wrists and ankles. Legolas bit his lip.

“Did I do it wrong?” he asked, obviously worried, and Elrond had just enough energy left to laugh slowly.

“No. You didn't. In fact, we can probably say you did all of that very right.” He got Legolas to put the pillows back where they should be, and then held him close. Elrond was so tired. Maybe, just for an hour. Rest. He yawned, and Legolas fidgeted.

“Do not bother me in my sleep, pen neth,” Elrond warned. “I mean it.” He felt truly used, and he needed to be undisturbed.

“I will be good,” he said. “I promise,” and Legolas brushed lips against his. Then, so very quietly: “Le melin, Elrond.”

Elrond sighed, but there was no use denying it. “Le melin, Legolas.”

Author's Note: Thank you for reading – I hope you enjoyed it! Please leave a comment. I will reply here: http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/55964-pippychicks-lotr-fiction-review-responses
- 1
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Teacher - Missing Scenes