Something Special, Something Sacred

Imladris, Third Age 2034

"No, Elladan. I will not do this." Erestor turned away from Elrohir's bound form, hiding behind his long, raven locks. "I can *not* do this," he added.

It had been six turns of the moon since that terrible night, and five turns had been spent in the twins' bed. Elrond had loved him when he needed it the most, but Elladan and Elrohir gave him what he truly desired: oblivion.

That was, they had *given* him what he desired. Now Elladan wanted to change the rules. Erestor was not about to allow his student to now give the tutor lessons. The time for lessons was long passed, and Erestor did not feel he wanted to walk back into that dark shadow of his life. He was content to work and come in the evenings to their rooms. It was routine he enjoyed and he did not want to change it. Not now, not ever.

"Erestor," Elladan said, his tone sharp. "You cannot pretend that part of you no longer exists! You told me, in those long ago lessons, that one can *never* suppress what they are. To do so was a betrayal of one's self. That is what you do now. You punish yourself as Glorfindel wanted you to punish him. You and he have moped about this house long enough! Now, master Elrohir or leave the room." Elladan's pewter eyes blazed as he shouted at Erestor, and the Noldo found himself quite impressed with the adult Elladan had become.

Still, he shook his head. "I... I cannot, Elladan."

Elladan crossed his arms over his bare chest. A ring pierced his left nipple, the dark bead nestled against a scarlet one sparkling in the light. He remembered the night he helped Elrohir pierce his twin, marking him as his -- mark *them* as Erestor's. Elrohir bore a matching ring in his right nipple, and it used to be a comfort to him. But now, Erestor saw it as one more reminder of how he failed.

"You will," Elladan countered. "You are our Ingor -- as you always have been. We love and trust you, and we have our boundaries and know yours. We respect you and you respect us. Now, be master in this room or leave it."

Erestor knew Elladan was serious, the gleam in the Half-Elf's eye always made Erestor think of the nights Elrond used to wield the whip. He looked into himself, sought that part of his being he had tried to hide for the long months since his parting with the golden Elf, and found that urge still there. The urge to master, to bring pleasure and pain, to show his Tumbo the heights of ecstasy they never knew could exist.

It was then he did something he never thought he would before the beautiful Peredhel twins.

He showed his weakness.

"I am afraid," he choked out, darting wide eyes from Elrohir's prone, bound form on the bed to Elladan's sharp, piercing gaze.

Elladan let his arms fall to his sides and smiled. "We know. But, as you once told us, the only way to move beyond that fear is to face it. You will not harm him, Erestor." Elladan's face darkened. "*I* will not allow it."

Erestor was silent for several moments as he thought on Elladan's words. Could he find it in himself to master someone again, when he had been so thoroughly mastered by his own submissive?

He felt his fear melt slightly and he smirked at Elladan. "What would you like to do then, pen neth?" (young one)

Elladan took his hand, drawing Erestor to the bed. "I desire to do as we always did when you grew bored with your playmates and we had been naughty children, herdir," Elladan teased. Erestor then watched Elladan turn hungry, eager eyes to his twin, still nude and bound across the mattress. "I want to see him squirm," Elladan rasped out, and Erestor noted how Elrohir's arousal grew larger with each word from his brother. "I want to hear him scream our names, Erestor." (master)

"Unbind him, then, Elladan, so that I may reacquaint your sibling with my hand." As Elladan did as Erestor bid, the Noldo shed his robes and leggings, coming to the edge of the bed as naked as Elrohir was. He did not have to look or order Elladan to bare himself, the young master knew what Erestor liked and wanted in a session with them.

He turned his eyes to Elrohir, his heart racing with anticipation. "Athra," he commanded, his voice low and rough. (across)

His dark eyes followed Elrohir's movements. The Peredhel was fluid and graceful -- it had always been a virtue of Elrohir's that Elladan had never been able to achieve. Elladan was born to master, and Erestor had taken great strides to ease the elder twin's worry when Elladan found he could not perform as elegantly as Elrohir. No, Elladan's talents had been much different. The elder Half-Elf's talents were in his stamina and his enthusiasm, his ability to wield whip, crop or cane with frightening efficiency and little error.

The twins were a marvel to watch as Ingor and Tumbo, a ballet Erestor had helped to orchestrate so many years ago. And he was once again privy to the acts the twins still engaged in. Erestor's arousal throbbed as Elrohir laid his supple body across his lap, the younger twin's erection damply brushing against Erestor's thigh.

Erestor caressed the heated skin of Elrohir's backside, and the younger twin squirmed against him, moaning. Erestor startled as he saw the reason why. Before Elladan had bound up his brother, he had inserted a phallus into Elrohir's rear passage and fastened it in place with a thin length of hithlain around his waist. While not an overly large implement, the phallus, being bound, gave a constant presence that no doubt shifted between pleasure and discomfort. Erestor could not resist smiling at the guile that Elladan had discovered within himself.

Elladan appeared at Erestor's side, aroused as he watched his brother squirm on their tutor's lap. Erestor thought for a moment and decided that, instead of a gag for the younger Peredhel, his brother's cock would be perfect to stifle any loud cries. "Elrohir?" he said, drawing his hand back, poised to strike Elrohir's raised backside. "Open your mouth and please your brother. You know how much I dislike excessive noise."

Elladan closed the distance between himself and Erestor, and Elrohir did as he was told, obediently drawing his older twin's length into his mouth. Elladan placed a casual hand on Erestor's shoulder, his hips pressing against the elder Noldo's thigh. Elrohir groaned as the heat of Elladan's erection added to the near-unbearable onslaught of sensation.

The musky scent of the Peredhil's arousal was intoxicating to Erestor, and for a time, it was all that mattered. He began spanking Elrohir's backside as he might a petulant child, his palm striking firmly and repeatedly. His hand stung with every blow to the tight, pale flesh, but he continued regardless of the increasing pain to his hand. His left hand lay across Elrohir's shoulders, holding the younger twin firmly across his lap. With each strike, he felt Elrohir's muscles clench, tightening around the harnessed phallus, and Elrohir's length throb against his thigh.

Erestor began to forget everything and lose himself in his desire as his own arousal matched that of his younger partners. Elladan seemed to notice instantly, and slid the hand on Erestor's shoulder down his tutor's chest to grip the firm shaft. His slender fingers played along the tight column, coaxing a pleasured sigh from Erestor's lips.

The Councilor increased the pace of his strikes to Elrohir's backside, and both twins responded immediately: Elrohir from the renewed assault on his ass, and Elladan from the heightened vigor with which his brother pleasured his cock. A short few moments later, Elladan threw his head back with an impassioned gasp. His hands flew to Elrohir's hair, pulling tightly on the dark locks as he spilled deeply into his twin's eager mouth. Erestor smiled wistfully up at Elladan, admiring the look of rapture on the elder Peredhel's face.

Erestor stopped striking Elrohir's buttocks, resting his hand on the enflamed flesh. His dark eyes remained fixed on Elladan, slowly slipping down to where his sated sex was slipping from Elrohir's glistening lips. For a moment, he felt a pang in his heart; the look of utter love and devotion shining from Elrohir's face as he licked the remainder of Elladan's seed from his mouth reminded him of Glorfindel. He missed having that devotion directed toward him... He pushed the thoughts from his mind quickly, patting the red flesh under his hand.

"Erin dalaf," Elladan commanded, and Elrohir dropped from Erestor's lap to the floor. Elrohir rested on his knees, his hands on his spread thighs, and his back straight and tall. His eyes, though, were focused on Erestor's erection, sticky with his fluids, coaxed from his body by Elladan's hands. (on the floor)

Elladan appeared behind Elrohir, his stormy gaze capturing Erestor's. He lifted a multi-thonged flogger, lifted an eyebrow at Erestor, asking the older master in the room if it was acceptable. Erestor barely nodded his head, and Elladan drew the flogger back and struck his twin's back. Elrohir's mouth opened in a silent cry, his eyes slipping shut by the second blow, and by the fifth strike, his cheeks were flushed and his body rocked in rhythm with the flogger.

Erestor knew Elrohir was capable of release from the flogger's kiss alone, and he marveled at how well Elladan was able to keep his brother on that edge of ecstasy.

"Pleasure Erestor as you did me, Elrohir," Elladan ordered, his motions graceful and steady as he flogged his twin.

Those full, wet lips parted and Elrohir's tongue darted out, gathering the beads of moisture from the tip of Erestor's length. Erestor's hissed, leaning back slightly on his hands and thrusting his hips forward. Elrohir dutifully bent his head, drawing Erestor's cock into his mouth. Steady suction, warm wetness pulled moans from Erestor's lips. Elrohir had always been very talented with his tongue; the younger twin could drive all thoughts of lovers, work, and heartache from any mind.

Small grunts and whimpers traveled up his shaft, and Erestor slowly closed his eyes. Unbidden, images of golden hair spilling over his pale thighs came to him; he could see those bright, moist eyes looking up at him from his position on the floor. Yes, Erestor still remembered a time when Glorfindel's loving was sweet and eager, not tainted with Erestor's dominance. He gasped and opened his eyes quickly, staring intently at the dark head bobbing on his length, replacing light with dark.

The sounds of leather on skin stopped, but Elrohir continued to suck at him. Erestor fisted Elrohir's hair and pulled the Peredhel from his arousal. "Enough, pen vara," he rasped out. (eager one)

Elladan tossed the flogger aside while Erestor pulled a panting, squirming Elrohir onto the bed. Erestor pushed Elrohir onto his back, spreading the Half-Elf's legs wide and pushing them back, exposing the black, leather covered phallus filling the entrance to Elrohir's body. Erestor deftly untied the hithlain and slipped the phallus from Elrohir's body. The younger twin moaned and writhed, his face flushed and his arousal heavy and dark with his need. Erestor looked up at Elladan who knelt on the mattress near Elrohir's head.

"Did you think we would want to waste any time, Erestor?" Elladan asked, lifting an eyebrow much like his father. Elladan reached between Elrohir's legs and slid two fingers deep into his brother. "He is ready, meldir, and so very willing," he said as he pulled oily fingers from Elrohir's stretched passage. Elladan's eyes were bright with his excitement as he nodded to Erestor. (friend)

Erestor gazed down at the creature below him; when Elrohir was so worked up, he reminded Erestor of a shamelessly wanton sprite, teasing and begging to be used and left wanting more. That was Elrohir's favorite game: to be left hard and needy for as long as his partner could stand it before offering release. Elladan and Erestor had become very adept at prolonging his torment.

He positioned himself and thrust forward. Elrohir cried out and clenched the sheets as Erestor set a brutal pace. They rocked together for a few moments under Elladan's intent gaze, but Erestor soon realized the elder twin was hard again. This was Elladan's favorite pastime; he enjoyed watching his brother taken roughly by a lover, knowing that Elrohir's body craved his twin's touch. But, Elladan always withheld that touch until the very end, until they were both in a lustful frenzy.

The Noldo, though, leaned over and lapped at the engorged head of Elladan's reawakened arousal. Elladan moaned, and Elrohir released a fistful of the sheet to grasp the base of his brother's erection, steadying the thick shaft for Erestor. Erestor smiled and engulfed Elladan's length easily, plunging down as he thrust into Elrohir, and he was quickly driven to his peak. As he impaled Elrohir, and filled his mouth with Elladan's ample cock, his mind drifted yet again.

He admitted to himself, finally, how much he had missed this. Erestor had missed the mastering of an eager submissive. How he enjoyed Elrohir's impassioned pleas as he was pounded into, knowing the Half-Elf would never seek his own release unless he was given *permission* to. But, while the thrill of mastering the twins still burned hot in his blood, it was hollow.

Erestor loved them both, more than anyone but their mother and father knew of. But, they were not Glorfindel. While their submission was sweet, it was not what his soul craved. What he craved was Glorfindel, was Glorfindel's love.

Glorfindel's submission.

His sac tightened and he became dizzy as his climax erupted. He released Elladan's sex and drove deep into Elrohir, spending himself as a hoarse cry was wrung from his dry throat. Erestor remained bent over Elrohir's form as the tremors of his orgasm slowly ceased, and then he pulled himself from those slick, hot depths. He did not say anything to either twin as he stood from the bed and, on unsteady feet, walked to the bathing chamber. He could still feel their puzzled eyes on him as he closed the door softly.

Erestor drew a bath as he listened to Elladan and Elrohir make love. The act they performed now was nothing like the act the three of them had just completed.

No, they enjoyed love and security in each other's arms. They found adoration and devotion, trust and loyalty.

Alone, Erestor hung his head in his hands, sobbing quietly to the fervent sounds of lovemaking -- something he did not think he would ever take part in again.

*****

Elladan wiped the milky liquid from Elrohir's backside. His eyes darted to the still closed bathing room door, and he furrowed his brow in worry. "He has been in there for a while, Elrohir," he said, tossing the soiled rag aside.

"He needs time," Elrohir replied, wincing as he sat up.

"Did we hurt you, tôren?" Elladan teased, lying down with his head in Elrohir's lap. (my brother)

Elrohir chuckled. "It has been a while since I have been used so thoroughly and frequently, Elladan. Do keep that in mind."

Elladan closed his eyes tiredly, smiling as Elrohir ran his fingers through his hair. He almost purred, content in the sated afterglow of their evening.

"Elladan?"

"Hmm?"

"You should not treat Glorfindel so harshly," Elrohir said softly. "He suffers, too."

Elladan sat up, narrowing his eyes. "He drove Erestor to do what he did. He does not deserve kindness."

Elrohir cupped Elladan's cheek, and Elladan felt himself pulled into the grey depths of Elrohir's gaze. "Erestor chose to be mastered by his Tumbo. He allowed it. They are both at fault. We help Erestor; Ada helps Glorfindel. But, you must be more patient and accepting of Glorfindel. He is very confused and very sorry, tôren. Glorfindel has learned much--"

"He has not!" Elladan snapped, glaring at his twin. "He does not regret! He has not asked after Erestor or sought him out. The great Balrog-slayer hides behind his ignorance and it is not excusable!"

"You love Erestor so deeply, gwanunigen. Had I not come to you all those years ago, I believe he would be the mate of your heart -- not I." Elrohir smiled. "But, our lives have traveled this path, and his life has traveled a separate one. One that led him into Glorfindel's arms. He still aches for him, Elladan. He needs Glorfindel, as Glorfindel needs him. Do not add to his sorrow, and do not alienate Glorfindel from your life. He loves you, too. Perhaps not as Erestor does, but Glorfindel taught you all he knows of weapons, diplomacy and warfare. While Erestor taught us of bed play, of dominance and submission as well as history, language and lore, Glorfindel's gifts to us are just as important and just as full of his affections." (my twin)

Elladan was drawn back into Elrohir's embrace just as Erestor emerged from the bathing chamber. His dark eyes were red-rimmed, and Elladan's heart lurched in his chest. His immediate thought was anger toward Glorfindel, but Elrohir's words echoed in his mind.

If Erestor suffered so, then, perhaps, Glorfindel suffered as well.

Even more so, Elladan thought and they welcomed Erestor into the warmth and love of their bed.

*****

Elrond sat back in his chair, well out of the session space. He had brought the chair into the playroom from the bedchamber during Glorfindel's last session with Celebrían and was taking advantage of it again. The room was darkened except for a single candelabrum at the opposite corner of the room, throwing flickering shadows around the room of the two figures locked in an Ages-old dance.

Celebrían was shackled to the Fëanorian Cross much as she had been during her first session with Glorfindel. Tonight, though, she was not completely nude. An iron codpiece that had been adapted into a chastity belt was locked around her waist, trapping her doubtless engorged sex against the unyielding metal. Twin chains of thin silver were fastened to the back of the belt and snaked around to the front of her sweat-soaked body on either side, finally terminating in tiny clamps that were attached to her erect nipples. Her hair had been tightly braided and swept up off her neck, although a few stray tendrils had been shaken loose by now.

Glorfindel, meanwhile, stood just at the edge of the candles' light. He, too, was a vision of beauty. He stood shirtless, riding leathers clinging to his legs like a second skin. His golden locks were pulled into a single thick braid down the middle of his back and tied with a black ribbon. His body also glistened with the sweat of his exertions, and his eyes held a warrior's intensity, which Elrond was gratified to see again. The tightly woven black whip was held firmly in his right hand; the other end pooled on the floor like a coiled asp.

The Elda paused, as a predator sensing his prey, and then, with a flick of his wrist, he brought the whip flying around his head and cracked the tip against Celebrían's back. The elegant Lady of Imladris howled in a delicate mixture of pain and ecstasy, her entire body arching backward as far as the restraints would allow. This latest blow added another thin red line to the crisscrossed mass already adorning her pale flesh. She scarcely had time to recover before another line etched itself across her skin from Glorfindel's backswing.

Elrond watched with a detached air as the Seneschal continued to assail Celebrían with the whip. His undivided attention was no longer required in these sessions; indeed, he was beginning to feel somewhat superfluous. Glorfindel had progressed well in his training and no longer needed the Peredhel Lord guiding his movements. As a result, he felt no guilt over allowing his mind to wander over these past seasons.

Guilt had been the key, of course. Glorfindel's overdeveloped sense of guilt, instilled in him by Námo himself, had driven him to seek greater and greater levels of punishment, heedless of the harm that it caused those around him. Ingor training alone would never have been enough to drive that from Glorfindel. In the end, Elrond had moved Glorfindel from the room he and Erestor had shared and into the room adjacent to his own. It was a dangerous gambit since Erestor was staying with the twins, only a few rooms farther down the hall, but that room held too many painful memories for Glorfindel to ever truly heal.

So for months, Glorfindel would train with Elrond and Celebrían every third night, and the intervening two evenings were spent sitting in front of Elrond's fire conversing with the Half-Elf. Where Celebrían went on those evenings, Glorfindel never inquired. He was simply grateful for her absence from those discussions. Elrond knew that Glorfindel would never have been able to open up to him had she been near. Even so, there were many nights when they simply talked about the day's tasks or other trivial matters. As long as Elrond could keep Glorfindel talking, eventually the conversation wound its way back to more uncomfortable topics.

A particularly loud whip crack startled Elrond from his musings. He looked again at the result of all the labor. When these sessions began, Glorfindel was a broken Elf whose death by a Balrog had wounded him more deeply than anyone could have foreseen. And now, here he was surrounded by shadow and flame, wielding the whip in *his* hands. Glorfindel had clawed his way from behind the wall of self-doubt and guilt and been able to face himself -- and his actions -- for the first time with a clean conscience. He developed trust and respect for himself as he developed them in others. Celebrían deserved most of the credit for that; her encouragement of Glorfindel in their after-session chats had done a lot to boost the Elda's confidence.

Her encouragement at this moment was taking a much different form, Elrond noted with a smirk. Celebrían was writhing in her bonds now; her hair had slipped further from its braid and was spilling over her shoulders. Her hips were thrusting forward as she tried in vain to rub against the inside of her chastity belt. His wife was radiant in her submission, and his body responded quickly to the sight.

Glorfindel struck twice more before Celebrían shook her head, panting and moaning, and called out, "Lalf!" Elrond quelled the sudden urge to jump from his seat and rush to her. He knew that she was not damaged or harmed; she simply knew she could not endure any more, no matter how much she was enjoying the session. Besides, Glorfindel knew that he was always nearby if he was needed.

As it happened, the golden warrior performed perfectly, in Elrond's estimation. He quickly laid the whip on the ground and strode purposefully -- neither walking nor running -- to Celebrían. He removed the clips from her breasts, no longer shy with the Lady's body, and then hit the quick release latches on the wrist and ankle shackles. Finally, he unfastened the restrictive chastity belt and cast it out of the way. Celebrían leaned heavily against the Cross while Glorfindel prepared a rag with a soothing salve and rubbed it across the abused skin of her back. Once he was assured that no injury had been made, Glorfindel removed Celebrían's collar and helped her into a light robe.

Only when the session had completely ended did Elrond stand and approach the two. He clapped Glorfindel on the shoulder with pride beaming in his eyes. Glorfindel was not fully trained as Ingor, but that had never been the point. He had proven that he now understood far better than he ever had. There was only one more test for Glorfindel now before Elrond could let the Elda face the ultimate trial of facing Erestor again.

Glorfindel would have to go under the lash once more.

TBC...