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Prince in Training	By : Pippychick_TAFKAB Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 24084 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: We do not own Tolkien's world, Middle Earth, Lord of the Rings or any of the characters. We make no money from this.

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Chapter Twenty-two
When he met Erestor’s eyes, Legolas saw such a look of lust and hunger there he took an involuntary step back, even though he had spent hours trying to prepare himself. He heard himself utter a startled cry as his movement caused links of the leash to be drawn clinking from his father’s outstretched hands. Immediately, the look Erestor had was hidden, his eyes betraying nothing now beyond slight concern.
“Easy, ernil ned avad,” he said softly, sparing a moment to rest a heavy hand on Legolas’s shoulder, calming him. Then, as if the moment had been too long already, Erestor hastily turned his attention to Thranduil.
“Arise, mûl ernil nín.” Thranduil rose to his feet as they stared at each other, then lowered his head before Erestor in a clear signal of submission. The end of the leash still rested in his palms, and Erestor took it now, gently, so as not to annoy the fading red marks he had made before.
“What is yours, is also mine,” Erestor noted carefully. Thranduil bowed slightly, but did not look up.
“Yes, Master.”
Erestor gave Thranduil a lingering, loving look, and kissed him on the lips, tilting his head for it with one finger under the king’s chin. “Go to the bed. Watch and wait for us,” he commanded, registering Thranduil’s voiced acceptance with a smile and an indulgent nod.
Legolas found himself trembling as his leash was passed to new hands, and he fixed his eyes upon his father, as if to gaze on him for the last time. But Erestor held him now and put mild tension upon the chain, drawing his gaze back.
He surveyed Legolas, noting the paint with obvious pleasure, and lifted one edge of the robe to survey what lay beneath. “Your offering is lovely, mûl ernil nín. I will take it.” He led Legolas forth, keeping the delicate links taut. “Drop your robe,” he said when he had situated Legolas to his liking, standing amidst a broad sunbeam of golden evening light. Beyond the window, the sun touched the horizon, sinking behind the trees and lighting the clouds in hues of orange and rose.
Legolas lifted his hands to his shoulders and pushed back the robe, letting it fall to puddle at his heels. It left him bare but for the garment that covered his middle, which was so tight and sheer one might almost see his skin through its loving clasp. The sunlight caressing his body did nothing to hide him, picking out the fine down upon his skin in a golden haze, gleaming in his hair. Erestor circled him, his eyes keen, marking every part of Legolas’s body and approving it.
“Such a gift is best unwrapped,” he said lightly. “Strip yourself entirely.”
Legolas did so slowly, feeling not just Erestor’s eyes on him, but also his father’s. He licked his lips when he was done, tasting the oil he had used to make the red colour shine. He straightened up, throwing the garment to one side, then felt a heavy hand on his shoulder again. This time the pressure didn’t let up, and Legolas sank to his knees in front of Erestor, obedient in this.
He hadn’t just dressed and applied the strange make-up earlier, he had also prepared his body, and as Erestor walked around him, inspecting him from every angle, he could not help wondering if it would be now. His eyes filled with unshed tears at the thought of it, because he felt strongly that this gift, here, tonight, should be for his father.
As unexpected as it was sudden, Erestor suddenly knelt in front of him, so that they were both on their knees. “What did I promise, ernil ned avad?” he asked, as if he was aware of Legolas’s distress, his voice low and soothing, reminding Legolas of the kisses they had shared. He calmed, and blinked the tears away.
“Pleasure,” he whispered, as if it was a secret between them, and his gaze leapt guiltily to the bed, but his father was smiling at him, and he nodded as an encouragement. Legolas looked back at Erestor.
His only consolation as Erestor reached for him was that the other elf was still dressed. Again Erestor kissed him, just as he had before, and Legolas felt his arousal weigh heavy on his lower body despite his fears. He could not decide if it was the slow deepening of Erestor’s kiss that did this to him, or the way he was touched, fingertips playing with his ears again.
His own hands were on Erestor’s shoulders, as one of the other elf’s hands wandered down his body, plucking at one of his nipples so tenderly that he moaned, feeling his cock hard, jerking in front of him.
Erestor made a sound of satisfaction, and now those clever lips were roaming over his jawline, below his ear, on his neck while he moved his head to encourage it, completely lost, wanting it, that irresistible tickle of sensation that just made his body hot and eager for more.
At first he didn’t realise Erestor was drawing back from him. His body followed, leaning forward until he had no choice but to take some of his weight on his hands. Then at last he realised that he was on his hands and knees as Erestor stood up before him to undress.
“Look at your father, Legolas,” Erestor said, his voice a lulling whisper of encouragement. Thranduil was undressed now, touching himself as he watched, and Legolas swallowed, his mouth filling with the urge to taste his father’s perfect cock. He was so transfixed he didn’t know Erestor was behind him until he felt his touch.
It did not come as he expected, instead sliding over his ribs and spine and lifting from him before reaching his backside, only to settle on his arms and brush down along each of them, wakening the nerves in his skin with expert precision. Thranduil watched, eyes heavy-lidded, his fingers gliding along his erection with the same speed and pressure as Erestor’s touched Legolas.
Slowly Legolas’s body relaxed, except for the pulsing weight between his thighs, which ached pleasantly as he watched his father, and as Erestor roused him in slow, gentle stages. His hands gradually grew bolder, venturing between Legolas’s thighs, caressing over the cleft of his buttocks before drifting away. Legolas could hear his father’s breath growing harsher and see a tremor in his hands as he struggled to maintain his restraint. The golden path of the sun shifted and dimmed, leaving them amidst a muted, glimmering puddle of lamplight. The trees outside whispered, singing of peace and reassurance, promising Legolas all was well.
He heard himself moan as Erestor’s hands skated around his cock without touching it, and he shifted, trying to nudge himself into the elf’s palm without seeming as if he intended to do so.
“When I will, not before,” Erestor said softly, amused, and Legolas moaned again. Now he was glad of his father’s training, because he did not refuse to participate, and he did not reach to touch himself, which meant he was rewarded just a few moments later with Erestor’s hand on his cock.
Erestor formed his thumb and forefinger into a loose ring and let Legolas work at it himself, thrusting into that light grip, even though he only succeeded in teasing himself. “Please!” he gasped, desperate for more sensation, and for a moment he felt all the heat and firmness of Erestor’s hand around his length, making his body shudder before it was gone again.
He heard a bottle uncorked, and almost turned around to see, but then felt fingers warm with oil, seeking entry into him, circling and rubbing against him until he pushed back to take the first one. He looked at Thranduil, who had slowed to hold off his own release, his hand barely moving now as he watched, his eyes dark and intense while Erestor’s finger caressed him inside.
If he submitted, if he obeyed the will of Erestor, he would be allowed release, he realised. And so would his father. The notion suddenly struck him in its perfection, and he moaned over and over, his body shaking as Erestor found his prostate and nudged at it again and again.
“Please, Master,” Legolas gasped, and the sweet torment stopped.
“Say it again,” Erestor ordered, his voice deep with lust. Legolas wondered what he asked, and then he realised what he himself had said.
Legolas blushed deeply, but the need of his body was too strong for pride. “Please, Master, please let me come.” He knew more was wanted, and he lowered his head so he would not have to meet Thranduil’s gaze, his face still burning. “Please take me.” He could barely bring himself to breathe the words aloud, and hearing Thranduil’s low gasp, he swallowed, seized with sudden shame. Had he failed his ada?
Erestor’s hand came under his chin, forcing him to look up again. Thranduil was smiling, a soft expression of love on his face, his whole heart in his eyes as he looked upon Legolas. That was all Legolas could see as he felt the gentle nudge and press of a cock against him, sliding slowly inside.
The touches inside his body had opened him up, made it easier to accept Erestor, yet the other elf did not push too far, pulling back as the resistance increased, then pressing forward again. Erestor teased Legolas’s body into submission in this too, his back and forth motions so irresistible. Legolas could only stare helplessly at his father as he was fucked so slowly, so tenderly. Thranduil’s eyes narrowed, and his hand on himself began to move again.
He wasn’t sure how long it took for Erestor to begin taking him fully and deep, but when it was there, Legolas loved it. So hard, a flash of sensation against his prostate with every thrust. And then Erestor reached below and touched him. Oiled hands caressed him, one gently nudging his balls, and the other stroking his cock.
“Ai!” Legolas cried out, again and again as Erestor worked his body with all of his considerable experience, until everything he was rested in Erestor’s hands, in the movements he made, in the words he spoke. Master, indeed.
“When you wish, Legolas, you may come,” he said, his voice calm despite the deep fucking, and Legolas let go almost instantly with a loud cry, aware that his father orgasmed too. And yet Erestor did not. He let go of Legolas’s cock when there was no more issue to get out of him, and fucked Legolas long and hard, until Legolas heard himself say it again.
“Please, Master, please,” he gasped. At that, Erestor found release, his essence hot and wet inside Legolas in a way that the oil never was. Only when he was entirely done did Erestor pull away.
Legolas knelt, remaining still; he had not been given permission to move, and was not sure he wished to have it. He wanted to stay as he was, listening to his father’s slow breathing, feeling the warmth and stretch of their master’s possession. He felt lost without Erestor inside him, empty and disquieted in a way he had not expected. He had been taken, but he had not been pushed to that pinnacle of bliss where he lost himself, where he would do anything for more. He had neared it, but never rose to the joyful heights, and he felt himself unsated in a way that had nothing to do with his spent cock.
He looked to Erestor, wondering if the elf knew his thought, and what he meant to do about it if he did. Perhaps he would order Legolas to curl up with Thranduil, or would do so himself.
And yet… had Legolas pleased him insufficiently? Had he failed somehow, in a crucial way that meant he would not given all he knew he might have? Was it only Thranduil who could make him feel that way?
“I can take more, if you wish it of me,” he said softly, flushing with embarrassment, moving his head to gaze at his hands upon the floor. “I will not break now.”
Legolas heard a shocked gasp that came from the direction of the bed, and he did not dare to look up. Perhaps he should have said nothing, but he did not understand his own feelings.
“Legolas,” said Erestor slowly, amused. “If your wish is for more than pleasure, I can certainly provide it to you.”
Swallowing, Legolas did not dare to move at all, even though all he wanted was to go to the bed and crawl into the safety of his father’s arms. A sudden sharp slap landed on his bottom, and a little of Erestor’s seed leaked out of him, trickling down and cooling behind his balls.
“You should see how you tremble, how your flesh quivers when you are struck. It is quite beautiful.” Legolas managed to breathe, just. “Or perhaps you wish for more intimate play. I am sure your father has objects of pleasure we can play with.”
Suddenly, Legolas remembered the humiliating wooden cock with its tail, and he shook his head. “No! Please, Master! I did not mean it!” There was a tugging at his neck, and he realised Erestor had taken up the leash and was pulling on it. Legolas followed where Erestor walked across the room on his hands and knees, too stunned to attempt to gain his feet.
“Did you not?” His voice was silky smooth, but still with a thread of amusement in it. “But surely you find something lacking in my performance, if you offer such cheek. Perhaps you merely meant you would like to be fucked until you cannot remember your name, as you are aroused and denied release until you beg for these things you do not mean, if only I will grant you leave to come.” He paused, regarding Legolas, who did not move or glance up, quivering, regretting his overconfidence at the same time some raw and terrible part of him craved its consequences.
“Mûl ernil nín, what would you recommend in the face of this insolence?” Erestor glanced to Thranduil.
Legolas’s father licked his lips, and Legolas shook his head at him, desperate, but Thranduil smirked, the faintest curve at the corners of his mouth.
“If you strike him just enough to bruise, you will reduce him to mindless whimpering need. If you truly wish to punish,” Thranduil’s eyes narrowed, and he ran his long, slender hand along his belly and over his cock. “Make him your pet and have him wear his tail.”
“A tail?” Erestor’s voice purred with amused interest. “He seems to like his leash well enough.” He moved to Thranduil, taking his hand from his belly and setting it firmly aside; Thranduil left it where it had been placed. “I think you will wear the tail for me before I leave this wood – I would like to see it in you. And as for him…” Erestor smiled. “To begin, I will take his voice.” He turned to Legolas. “For insolence, you have lost your privilege of speech. You will make your wishes known with your hands and your tongue. If you speak, I will put the tail in you. Do you understand?”
Legolas licked his lips and nodded. He would show Erestor he could take this punishment with ease.
Erestor sat on the side of the bed, making Thranduil move up. There was a perfect gap between the two of them. Legolas looked up at Erestor hopefully, but did not speak. When that didn’t work, he sighed and rested his chin on the edge of the bed. Erestor smirked.
“I can see why you might want to put a tail in him,” Erestor remarked. “Very well, pen gorn,” he said, jerking suddenly upwards with the leash so that Legolas yelped. “You may get on the bed.”
He scrambled up, more to relieve the pressure of the collar than anything else, but once there, he could not help pressing the length of his body against his father, longing for his love and affection. When he felt Thranduil’s arms close around him, he wished he could speak of his feelings.
After a moment or two, Erestor pulled him back. “Now for your punishment, Legolas,” he said slowly, and Legolas shook his head, his eyes wide, nudging at Erestor’s chest with his head in supplication.
“None of that! Turn over onto your front,” he ordered, and Legolas complied with a whimper, his heart beating wildly. “Now hold on to the bedstead.”
Legolas froze, since he had heard this instruction before, and he turned his head to look helplessly at Thranduil, who only nodded to the bedstead. “Asking your father to confirm my instruction will not make it easier for you,” Erestor warned darkly, and Legolas obeyed then. “It was he who suggested this punishment for you,” Erestor pointed out, his voice dry. “I would not look to him for mercy.”
He spoke then to Thranduil. “We will start with care. He is still sensitive, and his body will not respond quickly.”
The first blow came from Erestor, and was barely a swat; Legolas flinched, having expected something much harder. Erestor laughed. “Is this your idea of taking more? I am disappointed.” Nevertheless, the strength of the blows did not increase, barely stinging as they worked their way over the curve of his bottom, carefully covering all the skin there.
Thranduil followed suit, striking with comparable strength, his larger hand covering more of the skin.
He was right; Legolas was still very sensitive, and the motion of his body against the sheets was almost unpleasant on the tender skin of his cock. He took care to breathe deeply, having learned it was the best way to ease the pain and shame of a spanking.
As they continued, Legolas became more and more aware of the two of them, both focused on him, and he found himself relaxing under the somewhat gentle punishment, until he let go a long, deep moan.
“Increase the weight of your strikes, bain ernil,” Erestor instructed quietly. “Like this.” The next slap was harsher, and Legolas yelped, his hands clutching at the bedstead where they had been loose. His father followed, and Legolas fought to stay calm. He fought even harder not to beg for their mercy. He still did not have permission to speak.
It took some minutes for Legolas to surrender to the harsher punishment, but when he did, and he was deliberately thrusting against the sheets, he was suddenly pulled up to his knees, his face turned until he was looking at Erestor.
“Use your mouth to please your father now,” Erestor told him. “Make him hard so he can take his pleasure in your body. After which, I will have you again. You will be sore inside and out for your insolence... bara ernil.”
Legolas eagerly turned to Thranduil, nuzzling at his body, glad to claim the taste of his ada’s cock, familiar and comforting. He knew all the things Thranduil liked best, and it did not take him long to suck his father hard, tongue fluttering against the sweet spot at the head. He gazed up, blinking in a way he hoped conveyed his eagerness, for Erestor had not ceased to pepper his behind with fiery little slaps as he worked, and his cock ached, bereft of any touch.
“Take him,” Erestor commanded at last, and Thranduil moved behind him, lining up with care. He oiled himself and tested Legolas, who was still stretched and somewhat slippery from oil and Erestor’s seed.
“Ion nín…” he whispered, and pressed home, a welcome intrusion that made Legolas quiver, a soft ache he treasured. Legolas tightened his body on his ada to welcome him inside, pushing back to take it all when Thranduil hesitated.
“Continue,” Erestor commanded, and Legolas felt Thranduil’s palm slap against his skin – and felt his ada quiver seated deep within him, and belatedly remembered the nature of his father’s punishment. He jerked, crying out with dismay, but Thranduil’s free hand covered his mouth before he could break his word and speak.
“You will not want to wear the tail after we have used you,” Thranduil warned, his voice fond. “You will be sore enough as it is.” Another slap fell, and Legolas jerked, moaning, regretting that his foolish words had brought his father pain.
With every thrust, he received another slap, and it kept his own release at a distance, but to Legolas’s dismay, it made his ada last too, so that he was sobbing by the time he felt Thranduil reach completion inside him. His skin burned with a fiery pain that kept him constantly moving. He could not seem to stay still, even when his father withdrew and moved away from him.
Then it was Erestor again, more slaps, another cock inside him, and Legolas still could not help wriggling. Erestor’s slaps became harsher as a result in an attempt to subdue him. His body protested at the demands on it, his inner passage feeling sore just as he had been promised.
“Stay still,” Erestor hissed into his ear, both hands on his hips suddenly, keeping him in a fixed position to take the next deep thrust, and Legolas cried out, but he did not speak. His head felt full of words.
“Will you break now?” Erestor asked, echoing his own words back to him. “Or can you take more?” And it happened. With Erestor inside him, delivering slaps to his sore thighs, he felt that space and calm he’d experienced with Thranduil. His father held one of his hands tightly in both of his. Legolas quietened, his body relaxing so that Erestor sank deep, his submission so sudden that he heard Erestor moan in pleasure behind him.
“Now you may speak,” Erestor told him. “I suggest you thank me, and your father.”
Legolas drew in a breath. “Thank you, my Masters,” he breathed, over and over, thanking them for using his body, for the gift of their hands on him, for his punishment. He did not know. Erestor came in him for the second time, then turned him over onto his back. He smiled in victory, and Legolas reached up with his free hand to touch his face, enraptured by his submission. He thought he might have thanked Erestor again.
“Yes. Soon you will mean it,” Erestor prophesied, and with that he moved down and engulfed Legolas’s erection with his mouth, suckling on him so that he arched up and begged, and spoke words of nonsense. Erestor was skilled with his tongue. Legolas did not last long, and when it was all done, Erestor moved back up the bed.
Though his body ached and his skin was sore, Legolas finally felt utterly fulfilled. They both had their arms around him as he stretched out and got comfortable, their bodies warm as blankets around him. Thranduil kissed him fondly, and Legolas burrowed into his embrace, pulling Erestor’s arm around his waist. Happiness settled in him, and he drifted with them both into reverie. He did not spare a thought for the morning, though he probably should have done.

To be continued...

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Translations:
ernil ned avad: prince of reluctance
mûl ernil nín: my slave prince:
ada: father, dad, daddy
pen gorn: impetuous one
bain ernil: beautiful prince
bara ernil: eager prince
Ion nín: My son
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Prince in Training