TAINTED

Tainted

By Black Traitor of Isengard
NC-17 for explicit sex / torture / violence
Saruman / Gandalf / Pippin / Merry / Legolas / Aragorn

VIOLENCE/ BONDAGE/ PSYCH BS / TORTURE /LUST/ ANGST / HURT/ COMFORT / MAJOR CHARACTER DEATHS - you have been WARNED- so no whining!!

Chapter 1 - Voyeur


Mithrandir crept carefully and silently, making his way up the back
steps of the fern covered inlet of the River Isen- here, as he had
found out- for Saruman was not the only one with spies! –here,
Curunìr took his repose, bathing in the captured waters of the river,
and here was one of the very few places he would have his guard down.

Here, at long last, he could be bested, and with as little grief as
possible.

Or so he hoped.

Being put into a position of needing to subdue and overcome Curunìr
was not to his liking- but it could not be helped.

Helm's Deep was only a week past, and the bloodshed and agony was
still fresh and raw in his mind.

Saruman! It was his doing, and not just at the behest of Sauron,
either. Mithrandir had initially believed that- he needed to believe
that.

But he gradually realized that Curunìr was on ast fst for power all
his own, driven by near-madness and lust for the Ruling Ring. He had
to be stopped.

Quietly as any deer, Mithrandir stole into the enclosed grove –
there, by the edge:

Curunìr, in his flowing white robes, had just barely arrived himself,
it seemed. He looked around briefly, nostrils flaring slightly like a
predator, careful, vigilant. But not vigilant enough.

As Mithrandir watched silently and intently, Curunìr slipped his over-
cloak off his shoulders, and it fell to the ground; then he unclasped
the inner robe, and it too dro. Wi. With a strange, and fearful sort
of grace, he stepped into the water –

Mithrandir watched still, and was somewhat amused at himself, to find
he was staring with vivid interest at Curunìr, now nude and half-
immersed in the pool of dark water.

He took it all in, not really intending to, but finding himself
mesmerized by the sight. He had never seen Curunìr like this before.
Curunìr was extremely aloof, and cold, and even when they had been
very close, many years ago, he exuded a powerful air of unfriendly
arrogance.

Mithrandir had not been offended- it was just his way, he had thought
at the time.

But now it seemed as if the exterior attitude had perhaps hidden a
greater unkindness, and was only a visible symptom of something far
worse than mere conceit.

And now, as Mithrandir watched with interested, even eager eyes,
Curunìr slowly bathed and relaxed in the pool – he had lain down the
metal staff when he had first come, and it lay on the ground like a
straight black serpent.

Good, thought Mithrandir, the staff is out of the way, at least.

Curunìr turned towards his direction suddenly, and again the nostrils
flared. He looked around carefully, as if sensing something.
Mithrandir did not even breathe.

Satisfied there was no danger, Curunìr again turned his attention to
the waters – he was powerfully built, long lean muscles, and very
tall. Mithrandir veryh dih did not want to have to battle him
physically again:

he did not desire to harm Curunìr, and being embroiled in a fight
would almost certainly lead to that outcome. It would be very
different than when they had last matched skills – now they were once
again unevenly matched, but in Mithrandir's favor.

Slowly, with almost painful stealth, he slipped alongside Curunìr
while he was turned to the side – with preternatural grace, he stole
behind until he was only a few feet away.

Then, suddenly, he confronted his old friend, rising up in front of
him like a pale ghost.

Curunìr pulled back in alarm, but Mithrandir was far too swift, and
grasped him in a relentless hold- "Saruman! Listen to me! Calm
yourself, and listen to me!" Mithrandir shouted at him, but Curunìr
was far too distressed to even hear his words. He struggled fiercely,
and looked around desperately for his staff. "No, Saruman, you shall
not reach the staff! Now get hold of yourself! I only wish to speak
with you!"- Mithrandir knew he had to calm Curunìr, or the battle
would be on.

"You steal up on me as a thief in the night, and then say you only
wish to talk? Then why creep up on me this way? Your motives are
clear from your methods, I think!" Curunìr snarled to him, still
recoiling in Mithrandir's iron grip.

"I knew you would not receive me, and besides, the last time I was a
guest at Isengard, I found it very difficult to escape – your
hospitality!" Mithrandir answered him, and then he released his hold
somewhat. Curunìr drew back as much as possible, slick with the water
of the pool, and with the sweat of the struggle.

Mithrandir spoke firmly, sternly: "Now listen to me, listen closely,
and listen well: all this must cease! Give up this terrible path,
before it is truly too late! There is already much blood on your
hands, come back to your senses before it goes any farther!"

But Curunìr only sneered at him, and replied scornfully: "Ah, more
unasked for and unwelcome advice on my future, from he who knows all!
Tell me, Mithrandir, did you really think I was interested in hearing
all this, yet again? You have wasted your time in coming here, and
ruined my nice bath, as well."

They were standing very close together now, waist deep in the cool
water; Mithrandir edged closer still, with a mind to make a further
point, and became suddenly aware of – what, exactly? Something
pressing against him, and whatever it was, it caused Curunìr to jump
slightly, and he made a soft sound of exclaimation.

Ah, so that was it! Mithrandir thought, bemused, I have – without
meaning to – gotten too close, down there!

Curunìr was looking at him very strangely, almost with a lost
expression, as if he was not sure what to say or do next.

What, does he think I did that intentionally? Mithrandir wondered,
surprised, and was about to say so, when Curunìr spoke, instead:

"What- what are you doing, Mithrandir? What are you – wid yid you do
that?" – he sounded almost awed, and then he stepped closer again,
cautiously, as if he were not sure it was the right thing to do.
Mithrandir did not move, indeed, he felt as if he were rooted to the
spot, and so as Curunìr moved closer, their bodies were only inches
apart.

Mithrandir looked into Curunìr's dark eyes, and then, wordlessly, for
words would have complicated it enormously, he slipped off his own
robes, and they faced each other in the water, the last barrier of
Mithrandir's clothing gone now.

"Why did you come here? What do you want with me, or from me?"
Curunìr asked quietly, "You know I cannot let you leave here."

Mithrandir did not reply, but instead moved even closer, so that they
pressed against each other tightly. He saw that Curunìr closed his
eyes, and Mithrandir slowly moved his right hand under the water and
felt for him – finding what he sought, he took hold and gently
grasped his fingers around the considerable length of it, and Curunìr
gasped, looking shocked, but very excited as well.

Curunìr leaned against Mithrandir heavily, as Mithrandir stroked and
caressed the very large and very hard cock in his hand- ripples
appeared in the water as he stroked slowly; Curunìr pushed himself
into the sweet-feeling grip gratefully, thrusting into it, and
leaning against Mithrandir's broad shoulder.

"Why are you doing this? Is this what you came to do?" Curunìr whispered into
Mithrandir's ear, still pushing the swollen organ into his hand, "So good, so very good",
and his voice had become very thick -he sounded almost drunken, drunken
with the pleasure of it, so unexpected, and yet so welcomed.

"Curunìr – lie back on the water's edge – just here-" Mithrandir
found himself to be intensely aroused, now, and his own prick was
making itself known to him, demanding attention with a solid,
throbbing ache. As he stood up out of the water, his cock loomed up,
anxious, and thunderously hot.

He half-pushed, half-coaxed Curunìr out of the water and onto the
edge, caressing him with such skill, and such affection, that Curunìr
finally wrapped one arm around his neck, and lay back on the ground,
with Mithrandir descending onto him. Their cocks pressed against each
other, slippery with the pool water, and the early fluid of their
mutual excitement.

Mithrandir thrust against Curunìr, carefully and passionately, and
was stunned at how excited he was to feel his fellow Istar's large
and very erect prick rubbing next to his, and his thoughts began to
fog as the climax neared.

No, not like this, he thought suddenly, and with one strong hand
turned Curunìr on his belly, and Curunìr, for his part, did not
resist or even ask why, but merely moved as he was guided.

In a matter of moments, Mithrandir had him positioned rightlnd nd
found his way gently inside- Curunìr suddenly came out of his calm
state, and struggled against him, almost in a panic. " Shh- shh- it's
alright, I will not hurt you – keep yourself ready, and relaxed, it
will be alright. Trust me, trust me. You will find pleasure in what
we are about to do, I promise you!"

And so Mithrandir sought to calm the increasingly alarmed Istar under
him, and at the same time pushing himself inside, with infinite care,
and so very slowly.

Curunìr felt the pressure become something else, altogether, and the
feeling was so intense he cried out very softly, trying to stifle any
sound, still unwilling to display his true feelings. There was
pleasure, all right, so much so, that he could only barely silence
himself. It was stunning, rapture – deep body-wracking throes. In
another moment he would not be able to keep silent. It was too much.

The hard shaft inside drove all the way in, and relentlessly pushed
into that place, where almost all the sensation seemed to be coming
from, a certain spot, oh, it was enough to take your breath away,
every time a deep thrust hammered into him. Curunìr had experienced
sexual pleasure before, but only with women, and although it had been
very pleasurable, this was something entirely new.

This was, well, ecstasy.

And Mithrandir seemed to know it, damn him! Curunìr felt utterly -
**taken** - and he supposed he was, too.

But there was no denying this pleasure.

And then the thrusts became suddenly much faster, and harder, and
Curunìr felt his heart leap with a rush of adrenaline, as the
shockingly powerful orgasm rumbled through him, making him cry out at
last, loudly, unable to control it.

Mithrandir felt the thrashing under him, and the tightening spasms
around his cock as Curunìr climaxed under him – but he himself was a
master of self-control, and he had made love to many men and
women, and knew just how to maintain himself.

The idea had formulated as he rode his unlikely lover into passionate
exhaustion :

the perfect way to overcome Curunìr, without risking a dangerous
battle –

And so he slowed down his movements, and very nearly stopped
altogether- Curunìr lay still and weary underneath him, their bodies
glistening with sweat.

Then he began to move again, and Curunìr tried to move out from under
him, but was pinned to the ground.

And then the pleasure began again, and though he could scarcely
believe it, he felt himself at the brinkin, in, and the orgasm came
more quickly this time, and it tore though him with a convulsive
shudder.

Mithrandir at last allowed his own release, and spent deep inside
Curunìr's tight and aching insides. The bliss of it was intense, and
he kissed the strong shoulders under him as he came.

Still without speaking to each other, they separated finally, and
Curunìr rolled onto his back tiredly. For several long moments, they
simply gazed at one another, in a surreal mixture of desire and
distrust.

And then Curunìr, although he did not expect to, fell into an
exhausted and sudden sleep.

Silently, Mithrandir the White rose up, and put back on his cloak,
and then put Curunìr's robes back on him as well.

And then, finally, he gently placed the iron manacles that he had
brought with him loosely around Curunìr's wrists.

And waited.