Something Special, Something Sacred

Imladris, Third Age 2032

Glorfindel sat at his desk, rereading the slip of paper in front of him for the fifth time. He'd spent most of the morning feeling a mix of anticipation and nervous dread at the thought of what the night would bring. Then, just after lunch, a page delivered a note from Erestor, the same note he was now reading for the sixth time.

'Melethen,' it read. 'We shall begin your lesson as soon as you walk into our chambers tonight. Be prepared.' The brief letter was signed with Erestor's personal seal.

Needless to say, the note enhanced both feelings currently swirling within him. Be prepared? How was one to prepare for... What exactly was he preparing for, anyway?

Glorfindel could not concentrate for the rest of the afternoon, and decided to retreat to the dining hall early to take his evening meal. Strangely, though, his lover did not come to take his meal as he usually did, and Glorfindel found himself even more preoccupied.

"Lord Glorfindel?" He turned to the speaker, his eyes slightly unfocused.

"Yes, Elladan?" he asked distractedly.

Elrohir answered him. "Where is Lord Erestor?"

Glorfindel's eyes widened slightly. "Erestor?" he echoed weakly.

"Aye," Elladan said. "Have you two fought?"

He shook his head. "Nay, Erestor is in our chambers preparing..." he trailed off, not sure how to complete his statement. Luckily, Elrond came to his rescue.

"That sounds like Erestor," the Imladrian Lord mused. "Never one to let food come between him and his work. I will have one of the servants set a tray of bread and cheese outside his door." Elrond sipped his wine, his storm-colored eyes holding Glorfindel's sapphire blue ones.

Glorfindel's breath hitched in his throat and he looked away from the wise gaze. He'd said, "outside his door," as if he knew what would be going on inside. No, there was no way that Elrond would know what he and Erestor had planned for the evening, especially when Glorfindel did not know. "You are most kind, my Lord," he mumbled, pushing his plate away from him and signaling to the wait-staff he was done.

The Elda took a deep breath and offered his dear friend a smile. He stood and bid his Lord goodnight, walking slowly to his chambers. Glorfindel knew he had put off the inevitable as long as he could, and, with a knot twisting his stomach, he navigated the halls until he stood outside his door.

He took a tentative step inside. The room was lit by a myriad of candles placed around the perimeter. The constant flickering threw dancing shadows against the wall, adding to the mysterious feel. Erestor was nowhere in the room, though, and Glorfindel hesitantly ventured another step forward.

"Stop!" The voice boomed out of the shadows. Glorfindel froze. For a moment, nothing stirred. Then, a movement from his left drew the Elf's attention. An ornate tapestry, which had hung on that wall for as long as Erestor had inhabited this room, began to move aside, seemingly of its own accord. Then the candles flickered again, and Glorfindel saw Erestor emerging from behind the fabric. He could discern a soft sound, like the click of a door being closed, before the tapestry fell back into place.

Erestor stepped fully into the large room, and Glorfindel could only stare at this new side of his lover. The Noldo was shirtless, clad only in simple black leggings made of a silken material that shimmered in the play of the candlelight. His raven hair was twisted and bound into a single thick braid reaching down his bare back, a stark contrast to his pale skin. His eyes held a severity that Glorfindel had seen only once before -- on that night nearly fifteen years ago when he had apparently interrupted this same sort of evening between Erestor and Lindir.

Glorfindel remained motionless as Erestor walked slowly around him, looking him up and down, as though appraising his worth. When the dark Elf stood once again before Glorfindel, his expression softened almost imperceptibly for a moment, then returned to its harsh stare.

"From now until the time I release you," Erestor began without preamble, his voice a cutting baritone that caused Glorfindel's heart to race, "and any other time you come before me thus, you will address me only as 'Sir' and speak only when spoken to. Failure to show me this respect will be punished. Without my leave, no word shall fall from your lips *save one*. That is the word *kelu*. If you speak this word during a session, all actions will cease immediately and for the remainder of that evening. Do not, I caution you, use this word idly, often, or without good cause. Do you understand?"

Glorfindel swallowed. "Yes." Erestor's eyes narrowed, and Glorfindel hastily added, "Sir."

Erestor's lips twisted into a suggestion of a smile, and he paced back and forth in front of Glorfindel as he continued speaking. "Good. Furthermore, you will not look me directly in the eye unless directed to do so. You will focus your gaze straight ahead at all times unless told otherwise. Do you understand?"

He was reminded of the many times he had interrupted a lesson the Councilor would be giving the twins; he was sure this wouldn't be much different other than the subject matter. "Yes, Sir," Glorfindel replied without hesitation, struggling to keep his eyes forward and not focused on Erestor's movements.

"Good." Erestor stepped behind Glorfindel, and the Elda fought the urge to turn his head. He felt Erestor's cool hands on his head, smoothing out his hair before swiftly arranging it into a single plait that was then twisted, looped and pinned so that the blond locks were off his back. Erestor's hands reached around his body next and pulled the thick robes from his shoulders, letting them pool at his feet. The deft fingers then loosened the ties at the neck of his undershirt and the waist of his trousers.

Erestor slid the trousers past his slender hips, and then lifted his feet one at a time to remove the fabric completely. Glorfindel had been undressed by his lover many times over the course of their relationship, but this time, as cloth fell from his body, he was unnerved by the clinical efficiency Erestor used. Erestor lifted his arms above his head and pulled the undershirt free, discarding it as he had the rest of his clothing. Only then did the Noldo move from behind him.

Automatically, Glorfindel's eyes darted toward Erestor, but he remembered his lover's rules and quickly returned his gaze forward. He felt rather than saw Erestor's eyes upon him, and he suddenly felt very exposed and embarrassed, a feeling that intensified as he became gradually aware of his arousal stirring between his legs.

"Put your arms by your side," Erestor was saying, and Glorfindel snapped back from his introspection to obey. He was then ordered to move his hands behind his back, palms out, fingers laced. He complied without comment, though he could not help but blush as he realized the way that position thrust his hips forward and accentuated his now-erect member.

"This is Position Zero. Take careful note of the position of your body. If ever I call out 'Position Zero', you will immediately move into this exact posture." Erestor moved as he spoke, once again out of Glorfindel's field of vision. When he returned, he carried a length of pale, golden leather in his hand. He held it by both ends, displaying it for Glorfindel. Its purpose was still a mystery, but it was clearly a restraint of some sort. A mithril buckle was attached to one end; the other had a series of notches. Directly in the middle, a single sapphire jewel, the same shade as his eyes, was prominently displayed.

Erestor stood directly in front of Glorfindel. "This is your collar. It is a mark of submission, and you will wear it for the duration of a session. You will not remove it under any circumstances. The session ends only when I remove it." He wrapped the collar around Glorfindel's neck, positioning the jewel at the hollow of Glorfindel's throat, and fastening the buckle at the back of his neck.

Glorfindel listened as Erestor instructed him to move to what he called 'Position One.' This was similar to Position Zero, except that Glorfindel's palms were now flat against the back of his neck with his fingers laced together. His held his elbows up, pointed out and aligned with his shoulders. He felt his chest pushed out and the muscles in his back, buttocks, and thighs tense in the new posture.

Erestor nodded approvingly. "This is the position you will adopt if you are not told any other position. Furthermore, this is how you will always appear before me during a session: naked and collared, your hair fastened up, and standing in Position One. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir," Glorfindel replied, surprised at how easy the respectful title spilled from his lips given his current posture and nudity.

"Are you certain? This is the one and only time that I will give these initial instructions, so if you have any questions, ask them now because you will not have the opportunity again."

Glorfindel paused, thinking seriously. There was nothing difficult or complicated in these rules, and certainly nothing more restrictive than those in his training regiment when he first became a warrior. In fact, the memory of that experience gave him new resolve, and he stood in Position One even straighter as he responded. "I am certain, Sir."

"Excellent," Erestor replied, and this time, the smile was evident on his face. "Now, approach the bed. Stop two flagstones from the edge." He complied immediately, his hands never leaving their position, as he lined the tips of his toes with the grout line of the flagstone floor. "Extend your arms toward the posters of the bed." Glorfindel unlaced his fingers and reached for the thick, tall wooden columns of the bed, but he was too far away to actually grasp them.

He trained his eyes on a spot on the far wall, refusing to move his gaze from it when Erestor came into his peripheral vision. "Lean forward, and remain with your feet flat upon the floor." Glorfindel balanced himself, feeling utterly exposed in such a position. His feet were shoulder-length apart to offer him some stability in the posture, but this left his buttocks even more prominently displayed. He was pulled from his thoughts when he felt fabric being wrapped around his left wrist. He could not stop himself; his eyes jumped to the side. Erestor was tying something around his wrist. Glorfindel recognized it as the sleeve of his own undershirt. Hoping silently that Erestor hadn't noticed his change in focus, he watched his lover tie the other sleeve to the bedpost. Glorfindel gave an experimental tug, and found that he was unable to shift or bend his arm.

His right hand was bound in the same way using his leggings. Restrained as he was, Glorfindel realized that he was helpless in the face of whatever activity Erestor had planned for him. He was bared and vulnerable before his lover. Glorfindel could sense when Erestor had taken up a position behind him and jumped slightly when his gentle hands began to stroke his extended arms and along his spine. Glorfindel trembled under the tender strokes, his arousal throbbing with his heartbeat and his body relaxing slightly into the touch.

Suddenly, Erestor's open hand struck one cheek of his buttocks, sending a sharp sting of pain radiating from the contact. "That is for looking without permission," he said softly, his voice firm in its chastisement. Glorfindel felt his face flush with shame, but his eyes closed slightly and he fought not to moan when that same hand lovingly squeezed and stroked the sensitive flesh that had just been hit. "And that is for being so beautiful," was the praise heatedly spoken against the shell of his ear.

Erestor slapped the other side of his buttocks, causing Glorfindel to rock forward slightly. "And that is because I can." Another open-handed blow was given to the already stinging flesh and Glorfindel wondered if he could truly do this. One slap turned into four, then into eight. Glorfindel's steady breathing had quickly become irregular gasps the longer Erestor tortured his backside. His position prevented him from flinching from the impact of Erestor's hand and the sharp sting had quickly become a steady throb. Glorfindel began to wonder how it was Erestor's hand did not ache with the steady, rhythmic punishment he rained down on Glorfindel's sore buttocks.

The onslaught continued beyond Glorfindel's ability to keep count, his harsh breaths becoming moans and then voiced cries of pain. And then, just as suddenly, Erestor stopped. Glorfindel's ears rang in the sudden silence. A bead of cool sweat slid down his back, already covered in a fine sheen of moisture. His legs trembled from exertion and trepidation. Glorfindel involuntarily cringed when Erestor's hand came to rest on his raw backside, gently stroking the burning skin.

Erestor finally spoke then, and Glorfindel thought he would sob with the pride he felt at the praise his lover bestowed him. "You are doing so well," the Advisor crooned. Erestor's touch disappeared and Glorfindel hung his head, his muscles screaming at him for relief. He was also surprised his desire had not fled in the face of the physical pain he had endured. If anything else, his need for release was more acute. Erestor's hand did not return and Glorfindel used the time he was offered to catch his breath and push aside the pain he felt. He heard movement at the far side of the room, but he kept his eyes closed and head hung, not wishing to disobey Erestor again.

He shivered when Erestor's fingers unexpectedly danced over his chest, his hand stroking from the collar at the base of his throat to his navel. The soft, silken material of Erestor's trousers was cool against his enflamed backside, and he groaned to feel the hard shaft of his lover's erection press into the cleft. His own length was coated with the clear, sticky fluid that had been steadily dripping from the small slit at the head of his arousal. Glorfindel moaned as Erestor rubbed himself against his buttocks, the trouser material sending delicious tendrils of pleasure right to his groin. He slowly relaxed into the gentleness Erestor offered, a sense of satisfaction radiating in him that he was bringing Erestor such pleasure by simply submitting to him.

A resounding thwack rang through the air and Glorfindel yelped. Erestor had hit him with some kind of implement; it was no longer his hand he used. He tightened his hold on the garments used to bind him and clenched his jaw shut against letting any further cries escape his lips. Erestor struck again, only this time, he also reached around Glorfindel's body and wrapped his fingers around Glorfindel's length. He could not help the hiss of pleasure this action elicited, he felt himself attempt to thrust into the fist pleasuring him. His position, though, did not permit such action.

Erestor hit him once more and Glorfindel trembled in his conflicted need. With each blow, he was pushed forward into Erestor's tight, slick hand. His lover's breath ghosted over his ear, and Glorfindel was surprised to hear no fatigue or shortness of breath in the voice that spoke in a low, steady tone. "Do you like this, Glorfindel?"

Glorfindel's eyes shot open and he turned his head to look at Erestor with puzzlement in his eyes. He was rewarded with a particularly hard smack. "Eyes forward," came the sharp command. He returned his eyes to the spot he had chosen when he had first been restrained. Another hit, another thrust into that hand, another clash of pain and pleasure. What was Erestor doing to him?

His lover's lips brushed against Glorfindel's cheek. "Do you like this?" he asked again, building a steady rhythm with whatever he was using to strike him. Glorfindel instinctively knew the torment would not end until he either admitted he enjoyed what Erestor was doing to him or used the safe word. He was certain he would not be able to sit on the morrow; he could feel the bruising of his backside already. But, to admit that he, the famed slayer of a Balrog, enjoyed being beaten, that he could feel his release building within him with every blow landed on his sore and abused buttocks... He felt his face color with humiliation as he saw himself in his mind's eyes.

Hair pinned sloppily, nude and bound to the bed he shared with his tormentor, bent over and willingly accepting blow after blow, reveling in the hand that worked his shaft, brought him closer and closer to his pinnacle. He was ashamed of his weakness in that moment, in the easy mastery Erestor held over his body and its needs. "Do you want me to stop?" Yes, he did.

Didn't he? One word. One word would stop everything. Smack. Thrust. Glorfindel shuddered with his desire, fighting within himself to either give himself completely to his lover or end the play forever. "I can tell you like this, Glorfindel." Erestor squeezed his length briefly and then released him, cupping the tight sac beneath his arousal. "I want to hear you tell me you like it. Tell me, Glorfindel." His lover's voice was so low, a purr in his ear, and Glorfindel felt tears of frustration spring to his eyes.

When the tears finally fell, his buttocks were ablaze with pain. He tried to squirm and move away from each blow given to him. "You can say it, Glorfindel. There is only you and me in this room." Smack, stroke, a ghost of a kiss to his cheek. "I give you permission to like it." Erestor continued with his painful onslaught and Glorfindel continued to fight his internal battle. "Do you like it?" Erestor's tone had become more stern and demanding and Glorfindel felt himself forming the word that would be the end of it.

"Yes!" he gasped, the flush of shame still on his cheek, the tears still tracing down the red flesh. He had admitted it. Yes, he liked it. He liked how he could withstand each blow, how Erestor's pleasure fed his own, he enjoyed pleasing his lover and, in turn, was pleased himself. Yes, by the Valar, he liked it!

Upon the admission, each strike Erestor made carried more force and his hand moved in earnest upon his length. "Come for me, Glorfindel," he said in hushed tones. "Let go of it all and come for me."

And he did. With a great cry, he spilled himself over Erestor's hand, only vaguely registering the cessation of the beating. He trembled and sobbed within his bonds, resting his head against the pale, bare shoulder offered to him. Erestor stroked his cheek, murmuring words of praise to the exhausted Elda. Glorfindel hung limply from his bonds, the rush of ecstasy still coursing through him.

Gentle fingers reached behind him, unclasping the mithril buckle and removing the soft leather collar. Glorfindel immediately noticed the absence of the band, and though he wanted to look into Erestor's face, he could not bring himself to open his eyes to do so. His shame was still there; his enjoyment in being dominated still reflected in his eyes. He could not face Erestor just yet.

His arm fell to his side when Erestor freed it, sore and slightly numb. He had to lean heavily upon his lover, having lost all strength following his orgasm. Erestor unbound his other arm and all but carried Glorfindel into their bathing chamber. A bath, the water tepid and laced with some sort of herb Glorfindel could not place, awaited them. Erestor stripped himself of his trousers a bit awkwardly, not releasing Glorfindel from his arms. Glorfindel watched Erestor enter the water, and then he pulled Glorfindel in with him, holding him against his chest so his throbbing backside did not rest on the bottom of the basin.

The lukewarm water soothed the sting of his buttocks, and whatever Erestor had added to the pool slightly numbed the pain. Erestor brought his feet together, creating a hollow seat of sorts out of his legs, which Glorfindel could sit on without additional discomfort and his lover could attend to him. Glorfindel closed his eyes when Erestor unpinned his hair, sighing softly as his locks were combed out before they were wetted and washed.

Glorfindel's whole body ached. His muscles were stiff and sore, his arms were tingling as feeling returned to them, and his head ached from the strain and tears. He felt as if he had been through not only an emotional battle, but also one of the most intense physical battles he had ever partaken of. Glorfindel's mind was a jumble of conflicting emotions and thoughts; he was not sure what exactly had just transpired, and he was even less sure of what it meant for his relationship with Erestor. He moaned softly when Erestor massaged his shoulders, neck and back while washing him with the soap oil.

The Elda heard Erestor clear his throat and he waited patiently for his lover to say something. "How do you feel, melethen?" was the gentle question, the loving tone returning to Erestor's voice.

Glorfindel's eyes remained trained on his clasped hands floating just beneath the cloudy water, his head bowed. How *did* he feel? He felt sore, he felt drained, he felt accomplished. He searched for the shame and the guilt he'd felt only a few minutes before, and found them seeping away with the aches and tension. He enjoyed himself; Erestor enjoyed himself. Nothing seemed to have changed between them, so what had been the harm?

"I feel... good," he said quietly.

Glorfindel felt Erestor rest his chin on his shoulder. "It pleases me to hear that, meleth." A gentle kiss was placed on his neck and Glorfindel sighed, a smile spreading on his lips. "Melon chen, Glorfindel."

"Melon chen, pen-dhínen." They sat in silence, the water continuing to cool about them. When Erestor shifted beneath him, Glorfindel felt the Councilor's still hard member pressing against him. "Melethen?" he asked. "Why have you not had your pleasure?"

Erestor chuckled and Glorfindel trembled slightly as the tip of his ear was nipped playfully. "I have had my pleasure. Seeing you, writhing beneath my hand, moaning with every smack, and how beautifully you reached your release... Oh, I have most definitely had my pleasure pen-vain."

Glorfindel's face was turned gently by Erestor's hand, and the Advisor took his mouth in a deep, heated kiss. When they broke the kiss, he held Erestor's gaze. His lover's face was flushed and there was a sweet, content smile gracing his wet lips. Erestor's eyes were what Glorfindel focused on. They were still dark as midnight, framed with soot lashes, but there was an openness to them that had not existed before. This was who Erestor truly was.

"Come, melethen," Erestor said, moving Glorfindel from his lap. "I am sure you are more than ready to retire."

Erestor stepped from the tub, but Glorfindel still needed his lover's assistance. His muscles, though not as sore as when he had first entered the bath, were still weak with fatigue and overexertion. His backside still blazed with pain and he hissed as he Erestor dried him. His lover caressed the bruised and raw flesh with his lips and tongue, once again sending the contrasting sensation of painful pleasure.

He was led to the bed and Erestor turned down the coverlet. "Lay on your stomach," the Noldo murmured. Glorfindel slowly complied, exhaustion slowly forcing him toward reverie. He flinched a little when slick, cool fingers began to stroke the abused flesh. "This will soothe the skin, numb the pain. You should be able to walk tomorrow, but I would avoid sitting on a non-padded surface. Do you have patrol in the morning?"

Glorfindel moaned softly as the substance was smoothed into his buttocks. It was cooling and the massage he was receiving was loosening the tension remaining in his backside and thighs. "Nay. I have no pressing matters to attend tomorrow," he mumbled sleepily.

Erestor leaned over and planted a soft, chaste kiss on his cheek. Glorfindel felt himself slipping into dreams and only half-realized when Erestor covered him with a light sheet and crawled into the bed beside him. "Sleep now, pen-vain," Erestor whispered near his ear.

Without thought, before reverie fully claimed him, Glorfindel uttered two words. "Yes, sir."

TBC...

*****

Elvish/English:

Melethen: My love
Meleth: Love
Melon chen: I love you
Pen-dhínen : Silent one
Pen-vain : Beautiful one