Something Special, Something Sacred

Author's Note: I know, this is unusual -- I don't usually include an author note to interior chapters. But, I felt with the content of this chapter, it was necessary. You will notice that there is not a "het" warning that goes along with this, despite the fact that Celebrían is naked and submitting to Glorfindel. The reason that warning is not there is because I do not consider this to be het. Glorfindel is not having sex with Celebrían in any shape or fashion, despite being in a BDSM session with her. This is an important distinction to make. BDSM can be sexual, it can lead to sex, it can be part of sex -- but BDSM can be whole and separate unto itself and does not require any sexual component.

*****

Imladris, Third Age 2033

The room was silent. Celebrían, naked and suspended onto the balls of her feet, was the focus of the two Elf-lords in the room. She was blindfolded, gagged with a rubber ball, and Elrond had just placed wax plugs in her ears. The exercise was one of complete sensory depravation. She had to rely on Glorfindel, and the Elda was nervous. He was beyond nervous -- he was terrified. He may have spent several weeks with his Lord and Lady, he may have even become at ease with striking her, but this was something he was not sure he could do.

Elrond stood next to Glorfindel; the Elda could feel the heavy grey gaze on him. "Your Tumbo is completely helpless. She cannot move away from you. She cannot hear you. She cannot see you. She cannot even cry out in pain. She is as vulnerable to you as she can be, and you must take extra care with her and treat her with even greater respect for her trust in you."

Glorfindel shook his head, alarms ringing in his head. If she had no voice, then she could not tell him if he harmed her! And he *never* wanted to harm the fair she-Elf who trusted him so.

"Aye, I know what you are going to say, and you are correct. With her mouth bound, she is unable to call out the safety word. However, that is not an insurmountable problem." Glorfindel watched Elrond pull a small ingot from his robe pocket. He held it up for the blond to inspect. "You will notice that, though her wrists are bound, her hands are free. As long as she is holding this object, the session can continue. She has the option of opening her hand and dropping it to the ground. Should she do that, the session ends as though she had called out the safety word."

Elrond handed the small block to Glorfindel, nodding toward his wife. Glorfindel swallowed hard, let out a long breath, and approached his Lady. He slipped the ingot into Celebrían's hand, and she gripped it tightly.

Glorfindel turned to Elrond, his face reflecting his apprehension. "What do I do now?"

"She is your Tumbo, Glorfindel; that is for you to decide," Elrond grinned.

The Elda considered some of the various implements Elrond's playroom offered him. He immediately rejected such toys as the leather and crystal phalluses and clamps such as the ones Erestor liked to see him in. He could not bring himself to think of his lady in such a sexual sense -- he could find no desire to see her writhing as she was penetrated. Glorfindel definitely did not trust himself with such intense weapons as the whip, but he was now accustomed to the floggers; he knew Elrond desired him to move onto other, more extreme sessions. Finally, Glorfindel chose a riding crop. He picked it up and inspected it, felt its weight and swung once tentatively, trying to gauge its resistance. He looked to Elrond, waiting to see if he had chosen correctly. Elrond nodded his approval and stepped from the scene space, though he was always at hand, something Glorfindel was silently thankful for.

Glorfindel took a deep breath and approached the bound she-Elf. He slid the tip of the crop across her shoulders, intrigued by the ripple of muscles and the soft whimper she gave behind that gag. The crop traveled down the middle of her back, and she arched back away from the crop before she pressed back into it, and Glorfindel recognized the excitement, anticipation and fear of the Tumbo. And he should -- he himself had behaved in such a way before things had become so dark between Erestor and him. As he dragged the crop over the swell of her buttocks, he delighted in the shiver that shook through Celebrían's body. He drew back the crop, counting to three, and then lightly popped her backside. Celebrían cried out, more from the shock than the force, but her body remained relaxed.

He experimented with the force and the location of his blows until Celebrían moaned around the gag, squirmed with each strike, and she spread her legs slightly as he used the crop on her pale skin. Though he began using the crop on her buttocks, he was soon comfortable with striking the back of her thighs, and even venturing to certain areas on her back.

Glorfindel stopped when Celebrían's thighs and backside were quite red, but she was moaning and panting, thrusting her hips back so she could meet the crop, causing Glorfindel's blow to land on her flesh with more strength than if she remained still in her bindings. "How do I know when to stop?" he asked, his eyes darting to Elrond who stood quietly in a corner of the room.

Elrond's voice was rough when he answered. "She will show you when." It suddenly came to Glorfindel that his Lord probably became aroused at seeing his wife in such a state. Celebrían was aroused; Glorfindel could smell her excitement in the air of the playroom, and though it did nothing to stimulate him, he was certain that it cost Elrond a lot to rein in his lust.

"I should continue until she drops the ingot?" he asked, some fear creeping around his heart again. This was the Lady Celebrían, and he did not desire to beat her until she could take no more and she dropped the ingot.

The Peredhel shook his head. "Not necessarily. Make no mistake: she will drop it if she feels too much pain. You must trust her for that. But, her body will also tell you. Her cries may become more pained than pleasurable. She may attempt to twist her body away from you. These are things she is not doing intentionally, but that her body does on its own. As Ingor, you must be aware of these unspoken cues. If, on the other hand, her cries become more impassioned, and her body is flushed with desire rather than shame, then you must honor her and continue."

Glorfindel realized he'd stopped too long to simply begin with the crop again. He turned to the collection of striking implements and chose a heavyweight flogger. Though he was used to the floggers, he had also never used one as vicious looking as this one was. The thongs were thick and knotted; he knew from personal experience the searing pain the flogger could cause. He drew back, sighted where he wanted to strike on her backside, closed his eyes and lashed out.

Once Glorfindel became comfortable with the new implement, and he struck at the she-Elf's skin with more confidence, Celebrían began to react favorably to the treatment. She moaned loudly around the gag, writhed in her bonds, and panted in need. Even trussed up as she was, blind and deaf to her surroundings, she reveled in the pain Glorfindel offered her, and it was a reaction Glorfindel was unsure of.

As her flesh darkened further, both from his blows as well as desire, Glorfindel found himself hesitating once again, but this time it was out of her intense reaction to his ministrations.

Elrond approached his side, his arms crossed and a look of annoyance in those wise, grey eyes. "Why are you stopping, Glorfindel?" he demanded.

Glorfindel didn't immediately respond. He wasn't sure of what to say, and he felt the flush of embarrassment cross his features. The Elda was not so obtuse as to not know what his Lady was nearing, and the knowledge that *he* had brought her close to that release brought out a sense of shame in him.

"You do your Tumbo a disservice to stop now," Elrond said, his voice low and his dissatisfaction dripping from his words.

Glorfindel turned to Elrond, his own annoyance apparent. "Let us be frank, Elrond," he began. "She is *your* Tumbo, not mine. You have lent her to me for training, and for that I am grateful." He looked away then, pointing blindly in Celebrían's direction. "But it is not my place to continue in this manner, my Lord," he said hoarsely.

Elrond laid his hand on Glorfindel's shoulder and smiled apologetically. "I understand, my friend," he said, holding out his other hand for the flogger.

The Elda stepped out of the session space, a sigh of relief escaping his lips as he looked on with interest. His body may not be awoken by the female body, but what his Lord and Lady showed him was beautiful nonetheless.

Elrond did not hesitate. He started to firmly strike Celebrían, long sweeping strokes with the flogger, but the movements were quick and calculated. Celebrían immediately, and much more quickly than Glorfindel thought possible, started to convulse with orgasm. The Elda's eyes never left the pair in the center of the room. Elrond's eyes sparkled in the low light, his face flushed and his demeanor confident as he slowed and softened the blows to his wife's body.

Celebrían, though, was all silver and ivory in Glorfindel's eyes. Her body trembled with release, and it fascinated Glorfindel to see how the female body looked in such ecstasy. He had never been intimate with a woman, had never felt that attraction to them, so this was his first opportunity to see how the blush of release crept from her peaked breasts to her damp hair. All through her release, Elrond continued to strike her. He no longer hit with such force, and the action reminded him of how, as he came in Erestor's hand, the dark Elf would slow his stroke within him, but never actually stop. The gentle flogging continued as the she-Elf slowly recovered from her potent and sudden release.

The Half-Elf stepped away from Celebrían and motioned for Glorfindel to complete the session. Glorfindel nodded, composing himself as he approached Celebrían's prone form. He removed her gag first, and then revealed her eyes and opened her ears. The Elda took the ingot from her hand; he unbound her hands from the shackles, absently rubbing his thumbs over pink lines left by the shackles on the inside of her wrists. Celebrían stumbled against him as she was released from the bonds, and she was still flushed with release, her breath coming heavily. Glorfindel continued to quickly check her body, and he winced as he noticed her flesh was rather bruised. She did not seem harmed or ashamed, so the Elda unclasped the collar from her neck.

"Thank you, Glorfindel," she said softly, but turned from him and walked to Elrond. Glorfindel watched with a small smile as she kissed Elrond quickly on the lips. "And thank *you*, my Lord. That was lovely."

Glorfindel was taken aback at her statement. "You knew it was Elrond?"

Celebrían snaked her arm behind Elrond's back, smiling impishly at Glorfindel as she leaned against her husband. Her silver eyes turned to Glorfindel, and he was again struck dumb by her lack of modesty as she still stood before him nude. "No offense to you, meldir, but Elrond knows precisely how to evoke any reaction he chooses from me. And I, in turn, know his style and form."

Elrond handed the chuckling she-Elf a silken robe and motioned for them to move into the main bedchamber. He guided Celebrían toward the chairs by the fire, his hand resting affectionately on her lower back.

"I am, I confess, somewhat relieved to have seen this," Glorfindel began as he sat across from Elrond and Celebrían. "On more than one occasion with Erestor, I had..." as he spoke, he felt his cheeks color with embarrassment, though he had thought he was long past such diffidence with his Lord and Lady, "achieved release by the beating alone. I had feared that this made me somehow... less than normal."

Elrond sipped at his wine thoughtfully. "Because you reached sexual climax without direct stimulation?"

"Aye."

The Half-Elf put his glass aside, as he had in many of these after session discussions, and Glorfindel settled into his chair for the lecture he knew Elrond was about to deliver.

"There is more to the act of physical love than simple contact with a small list of body parts. With time and the proper loving emotion fueling it, the entire body can be taught to bring out such feelings of rapture upon command. That, it has been said, is the basis and purpose of the relationship between Ingor and Tumbo. It is not grounded in sexuality, but in *sensuality* and the exploration of extreme sensation. Whether in causing the sensation or in receiving it, the intent is to expand the awareness of pleasure and pain beyond the confines of their more obvious locations."

Glorfindel nodded. "I suppose that, given enough time, one could view any pain as pleasurable, then?"

Celebrían giggled slightly as she shook her head. "By no means! The intent and emotion that fuels the pain makes the difference. When I poke my finger during needlework, for instance, it is anything but pleasurable."

"A pity. I could have ordered the training for all my men, otherwise." Glorfindel winked at his Lady, feeling the tension flow from his body as they spoke.

Elrond joined in Celebrían's laughter. "Thank the Valar that we have changed your mind! I could not imagine seeing the barracks transformed into a giant playroom! It is supposed to be for *play*, after all."

The three friends continued to chat, and Glorfindel forgot for a time about the lonely room waiting for him. But, when Celebrían yawned for the third time, Glorfindel stood and took his leave, promising to return the in three days time for their next lesson.

*****

Erestor walked through the quiet halls. He had put aside his work, choosing to return to the twins' room, as he could not concentrate on the contracts Thranduil had sent for revision. His head throbbed with the beginnings of a headache, and his heart hurt for the lack of its mate. But, he pushed those thoughts aside, refusing to dwell on the golden Elf.

Life would continue, even if he never found such complete love as he had shared with the Balrog-slayer again.

As he turned the corner, the twins' door just a few steps from where he stood, his eyes fell onto the tall, lithe form of Glorfindel exiting Elrond's chambers. Their eyes met as they stood across the hall from each other, and Erestor's heart leapt in his chest. He wanted to run to that Elf, to be held and loved by him as he had once been, but as Glorfindel took a step toward him, Erestor panicked.

He looked away from the glittering azure eyes and knocked on Elladan and Elrohir's door. Elladan appeared after only a moment, and he invited Erestor in, and his eyes caught Glorfindel's. He glared at the Elda and slammed the door, preventing the Elda from seeing Erestor embraced by his twin.

Elladan took Erestor's hand, throwing an intense look to his brother as he drew the Noldo to the bed. Elrohir shook his head, but Elladan ignored him. The younger twin sighed and joined his old tutor and his lover on the mattress, aiding in removing the clothing the three of them wore.

Elrohir knew what Elladan attempted to do by inviting Erestor into their bed each night. He also knew that they could never remove the memory of the golden Elf or the hurt Glorfindel had inflicted in his ignorance. But, he still kissed and touched, comforted and loved Erestor as best he could. He would watch as Erestor found his pleasure in Elladan's body, and as he was taken by Elladan, Erestor would stroke himself, forcing a second -- sometime third -- orgasm from his exhausted body.

And that was the point.

Exhaustion. Sexual fulfillment. Erestor would take and come and take again, only so that, when they finished, he would collapse into a dreamless sleep entangled with Elrond's twin sons.

But, Elrohir also knew Erestor's efforts were in vain. No matter how much they fucked, Erestor always thrashed in his sleep, always woke with tears in his eyes, always looked in futile hope when his eyes cleared and he greeted a new day.

They were not Glorfindel.

TBC...