Handcuffs

Aragorn slipped quietly into the room, taking care to close the door silently behind him. Through the darkness he saw movement, stirring on the large bed. He froze, holding his breath. In a moment, the motion stilled. Aragorn smiled. His victim continued to sleep, oblivious to his fate. It was no small task, to sneak around an Elf's room, without detection but he was a Ranger, after all and a very good one at that.

Stepping lightly, he crossed the open space, keeping his footfalls on the thick fur rugs that covered most of the stone floor. In just a few short seconds, he stood by the bed, gazing down at the object of his affections. In the low light, there was little to see, the Elf lay on his side and his dark sheets were pulled up over his body, hiding pale flesh from sight and leaving only a cascade of long, silver hair exposed. Not for long.

Smiling, Aragorn grabbed the edge of the silk sheet and slowly and gently pulled the covering down a little, revealing the Elf's upper body. His smile morphed into a grin of evil delight, as he watched, relishing the slow exposure of his victim's flawless skin. This was going to be fun.

Reaching into his clothes, the Ranger pulled out a metal contraption, that clinked dangerously as it was moved, threatening to wake his sleeping prey. He held the metal up, to catch what little light there was in the room, arranging it in such a way that it could easily be put to use. It was a pair of shackles, meant for the wrists, a horrid and somewhat cruel device, though masterfully crafted. He had found it while trolling around the dark, dank belly of the mountain Halls, searching for hidden treasures, of which there were many, in the forgotten places of Mirkwood. Spotting the device in a pile of cruel and sadistic equipment meant for the unfortunate souls held in Thranduil's dungeon, he had been struck down by a deliciously nasty idea.

Now that his plan was so close to fruition, he found himself almost trembling with excitement and it required an enormous strength of will to maintain silence, as he carefully rested one knee on the edge of the bed, leaning over the sleeping Elf.

Taking a deep breath, he mentally practiced his maneuver, envisioning the successful capture of his target. Then, with one swift and fluid movement, he grabbed the Elf's wrists and pulled them up to the head of the bed, where thin iron bars awaited. Slipping the Elf's hands between the bars, he threw the pair of metal rings, skillfully around the creatures slender wrists, even as his quarry woke, in a flurry of struggle.

He heard the Elf take breath, perhaps preparing to scream and headed off the noise by placing one hand firmly over his captive's mouth. It was not of course, that he actually meant the Elf harm but the thought of explaining his actions to Mirkwood's royal guards was one that Aragorn did not relish.

"Shh..." He quieted his victim, crawling over the Elf, to pin his naked body down. "Be still, my love."

The Elf looked at him, through dark, blue eyes that shined in the darkness, familiarity calming the young creature's expression. Satisfied that there would be no panic, Aragorn lifted his hand from the Elf's mouth and replaced it with his lips, kissing his prey with passionate abandon. He probed the soft lips for entry and was rewarded when the Elf opened his mouth and met the Ranger's tongue with own. Aragorn sighed contentedly, wondering, as he always did, at the sweetness of his lover's mouth. Lost in the moment, it took a minute for him to remember his plan. When he did, he pulled out of the kiss, hovering inches from the Elf's face, gazing down at his stunned companion.

"Estel." Legolas' voice trembled slightly, a fact which sent heat surging through the Ranger's body, settling in a ball of fire, in his loin. "What are you doing?"

The Elf tested his bonds as he spoke, the metal cuffs grinding noisily against the iron bars. The sound drove Aragorn insane.

Rather than answer his beloved, Aragorn crawled back off the Elf and pulled the protective sheet down, leaving his lover cruelly exposed in the dull light. Sitting back, he took a moment to appreciate the young creature's brilliant nakedness, silently congratulating himself, on a job well done.

Then, he lifted his lover's legs, ignoring the quiet protests that issued from above. Faced with a stunning view of the Elf's tight opening, Aragorn lowered himself down on his elbows, firmly holding his lover's thighs apart and without pause, ran his tongue swiftly across the puckered little hole.

A gasp escaped the Elf's lips and Aragorn paused, glancing up through his lover's thighs. His prey wriggled, nervously on the bed and as he watched, a wet tongue flicked out to lick soft, pink lips. Grinning like a cat, Aragorn lowered his head again and lapped, lovingly at the entrance to Legolas' body, delighting in the tiny gasps and whimpers that reached his ears. He watched, transfixed, as the wet hole glistened with his own saliva.

"Estel..." The young Elf was writhing now, frustrated by his inability to move. The cuffs ground and clinked against the iron that held him still, as he instinctively tried to reach down, to run fingers through the Ranger's dark hair.

Smiling, Aragorn returned to his task, pressing his tongue down firmly over the opening, before gently pushing the tip of the wet muscle inside. Legolas jumped beneath him, as he withdrew, and then pushed inside again, deeper this time, mimicking what was to come.

"Estel, stop." The Elf whimpered. "Please, stop. Let me go... I need to touch you." Aragorn complied with part of his lover's request, lifting himself up on his knees and crawling between the Elf's alabaster thighs. He gazed down at his captive. Legolas' face was already flushed with passion, his breath coming in shaky gasps.

Reaching down, Aragorn untied his pants. He resisted the urge to remove his clothes, to press his own flesh against the Elf's slender body. Somehow, it fueled some base, predatory desire, to take his trapped lover this way.

He thought, for a moment, about wetting his fingers, to prepare the Elf properly, for what was coming but quickly decided against it. He could play later. Now, this time, was for taking.

With one hand, he pulled his straining member out of his pants, groaning as it leapt to attention. Then, without hesitation, he pressed the weeping head against his lover's hole. Legolas' hips bucked and he strained against his bonds, trying to push himself down on the Mans' length. Smiling Aragorn paused, teasing, letting his lover struggle to satisfy his own desires. The frustration on Legolas' pretty face, almost made him laugh.

Finally, he decided he really should put the young Elf out of his misery and without further ado, he reached back and spread his lover's buttocks wide, slowly penetrating the tight ring of muscle, pushing steadily into Legolas' warmth.

The Elf sighed and gasped for breath, as his body was slowly violated. From the look on his face, Aragorn wondered if Legolas might actually weep. Concerned, he considered stopping to ask if his lover was alright but dismissed the idea almost instantly. If Legolas really wanted him to stop, he would say so.

Finally, the Man made it past the the tight rim and pushed himself fully into his Elf's heat. He noticed that Legolas was remarkably tight, more so than usual and the feel of his lover, clamped around his hard cock made his knees tremble. It was exactly what he had wanted.

He withdrew, fully from Legolas' body and pushed himself back inside, with a hard, savage thrust. Legolas whimpered, as the breath was forced from his lungs, a quiet, restrained sound. Aragorn smiled. His lover always tried to be quiet and he always failed.

Grunting with the effort of pushing against the Elf's resistance, he began to thrust mercilessly into his lover, hard and fast, fucking the pretty Elf without restraint. He loved to take Legolas this way. It drove him wild, to see the noble, gentle creature reduced to writhing and crying out, defiled with almost violent force, like a mortal whore. Again and again he pounded his captive lover, the cuffs about the Elf's wrists holding him wonderfully immobile and helpless beneath the onslaught.

Though he tried to control himself, it was not long before the Ranger's head began to swim, before he felt the cascading sensation of orgasm building inside him. Frustrated by the swiftness with which his game was coming to an end, he doubled his efforts, slamming his hips savagely against the Elf's buttocks, struggling to keep his rhythm, maddened by his lover's steadily increasing cries, by the sound of Legolas' heaving breath.

With climax drawing ever closer, the Ranger reached down and took the Elf's straining length in his hand, stroking his lover in time with his impassioned thrusts. The Elf's uncontrollable moaning grew louder and more frantic, as Legolas was pushed to incoherence, with the rising pleasure. The Elf grabbed hold of the iron bars that held him still, pushing back against the Ranger as best he could, intensifying the impact of the Man's driving thrusts. He cried out, heedless of the danger of discovery, swept up in sensation and his body clamped down on Aragorn's throbbing cock, as he tumbled headlong into ecstasy, spilling his seed over his belly.

Aragorn moaned at the sight of his beloved Elf, succumbing to mortal pleasure and powerless to stop it, he surrendered himself to orgasm, his head reeling with the force of ascendancy, as he exploded inside the searing heat of his lover.

For a moment, he paused, relishing the act of filling Legolas with his own seed. He loved this. Making Legolas his. It was what he lived for.

As the rolling sensation of orgasm began to subside, he slipped his already softening member out of his lover's body and collapsed on top of the spent Elf, trembling in the aftershocks of pleasure. His breathing began to return to normal and beneath him, he felt the Elf's pulse begin to slow. Lifting his head, to gaze into shining blue eyes, he pushed a lock of hair from Legolas face, examining closely, his lover's state.

"Are you alright?" He asked, in a raspy voice.

Legolas smiled.

"Yes." He replied, with trembling breath.

"It was not too much for you?"

Again Legolas smiled. How sweet the Man was, always concerned for his well-being. If only he knew, just how much the Elven body could take.

"I love you." He responded, by way of reassurance.

Aragorn returned the Elf's sentiment two-fold, bowing his head to place a kiss upon his lover's mouth, the sweet, gentle act in stark contrast to the violent passion of a moment ago.

Spent and utterly exhausted, the Ranger rolled his weight off the Elf's slender body, leaving an arm draped over his lover's chest. Instantly, he felt the pull of sleep, dragging him quietly into darkness.

"Estel?" The Elf's sweet voice roused him back into consciousness.

"Hmm?"

"How do you get these things off?"

-The End-