Something Special, Something Sacred
folder
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
28
Views:
3,315
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
28
Views:
3,315
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Prologue
Originally Posted: February 2004
Title: Something Special, Something Sacred
Series: Innocence Stripped Away
Chapter: Prologue
Author: Orchyd Constyne
Characters: Erestor/Glorfindel
Warnings: Big warning here people. Stepping outside the usual fluff and fun. BDSM -- this means there will be bondage, discipline, dominance, submission, sadism, and masochism. It is dark -- and when you think I can't make it any darker, I will. Keep in mind, though, that this is NOT a non-con situation, this is NOT rape, and it is NOT silk scarves. This story will depict two adult male individuals -- who are both very sane -- consenting to consensual play, however intense it may become, but always with a backbone of safety.
Beta: Larien
Summary: Glorfindel and Erestor enter into a relationship where Glorfindel may lose everything he is in order to give Erestor all he desires.
*****
Imladris, Third Age 2008
Erestor groaned with frustration. He thought to ignore the knock on his chamber door, but anyone disturbing him at this late hour would not leave until he appeared. The Councilor sighed and wrapped his half-nude body in a silken robe. After a few short moments, he opened the door to the anxious face of Elrond's Seneschal.
"What is it, Glorfindel?" Erestor asked, trying with incredible effort to rein in his temper. The Elda was the most annoying individual Erestor had ever met; Glorfindel was determined to disturb him at every inopportune moment.
"Why, Erestor, it is so nice to see you, too." Glorfindel's sarcasm, Erestor thought, was the *last* thing he wished to deal with at this late hour.
"If you have only come to harass me, Lord Seneschal, then I must ask you to excuse me. I was in the middle of something when you knocked." Erestor stepped back, swinging the door shut, but was stopped when Glorfindel's heavy boot lodged itself between the door and the frame.
Glorfindel's blue eyes flared dangerously in the low light of the hall and Erestor resigned himself to having at least a short conversation with his fellow lord. "If you wish to speak, Glorfindel, then do so. I have little patience this night and you are quickly rending me of what I did have."
"It's nice to know that you are your cheerful self no matter what the time or place may be," Glorfindel quipped. "Lord Elrond asked me to tell you Lady Arwen and Lady Celebrian will return tomorrow morning with Lord Celeborn."
Erestor let out an exasperated hiss. "His rooms aren't even properly aired." He would have to be up before the first light of morning if he was to prepare for Lord Celeborn. "Very well. Thank you for the message. It seems I should retire soon."
Glorfindel nodded, bowing slightly. "Maer fuin." The Elda turned from Erestor's intense gaze and walked down the hall and out of the Noldo's sight.
Erestor closed the door softly, thinking to himself. Celeborn. It had been a many years since had last seen his Lady's father. A smirk crossed Erestor's lips. He was sure Celeborn would seek him out upon his arrival; the Councilor would only be too happy to oblige.
He passed through the main antechamber in his suite and emerged into the large, opulent bedchamber within. His eyes swept over the room, taking note of the furniture and tapestries, the books and sculptures. Erestor had spent many, many years collecting his numerous possessions. Elrond sometimes teased his friend that they would soon have to designate a whole wing to the Councilor's hobbies and collections.
Erestor let his robe fall from his slender shoulders and he draped it over one of several chairs in the room. Lindir had once asked him why he had the furniture he did: a massive solid wood four poster bed, a sturdy table, quite a few chairs of varying height and design, among many other pieces. His answer had made the poor minstrel blush.
The Noldo leaned over to one of the side tables and retrieved his half-finished glass of wine and his riding crop. Walking across the room to the low table, Erestor sipped thoughtfully. Lindir was beautiful; the young Elf's long, almost white hair had been a source of fascination for Erestor. Chuckling, he remembered it was that same trait that had drawn the Elf-lord into Celeborn's bed.
He put his glass down then ran a hand over his bare chest, his eyes going dark with lust. Lindir, Celeborn... Glorfindel. The Elda was a constant source of irritation and desire for Erestor. He longed to possess the golden Lord, but Glorfindel was too proud, too vain to share Erestor's bed. But, Erestor could fantasize. Closing his eyes, he ran his hand further down his body and lightly traced the bulge in his sleeping trousers. Yes, what he wouldn't give to have Glorfindel to himself for a few short hours...
Erestor opened his eyes and took in the sight before him. Lindir lay belly down on the table, his legs spread wide and bound to the legs at the foot of the table. The young Silvan Elf was gagged and his arms were stretched out and bound to the legs at the table's head. The pale skin of the minstrel's back, buttocks, and thighs was crisscrossed with red welts and dark bruises. Erestor knelt before the flushed, tear-stained face and smiled darkly.
"Good boy," he soothed, smoothing the mussed hair. "Not a sound. I am impressed." Erestor's voice was low and even, almost comforting if not for the position Lindir found himself in. The Councilor stood and walked to stand behind and just to the left of the bound Elf. "Now," he said, raising the crop. "Where were we?"
TBC...
Title: Something Special, Something Sacred
Series: Innocence Stripped Away
Chapter: Prologue
Author: Orchyd Constyne
Characters: Erestor/Glorfindel
Warnings: Big warning here people. Stepping outside the usual fluff and fun. BDSM -- this means there will be bondage, discipline, dominance, submission, sadism, and masochism. It is dark -- and when you think I can't make it any darker, I will. Keep in mind, though, that this is NOT a non-con situation, this is NOT rape, and it is NOT silk scarves. This story will depict two adult male individuals -- who are both very sane -- consenting to consensual play, however intense it may become, but always with a backbone of safety.
Beta: Larien
Summary: Glorfindel and Erestor enter into a relationship where Glorfindel may lose everything he is in order to give Erestor all he desires.
*****
Imladris, Third Age 2008
Erestor groaned with frustration. He thought to ignore the knock on his chamber door, but anyone disturbing him at this late hour would not leave until he appeared. The Councilor sighed and wrapped his half-nude body in a silken robe. After a few short moments, he opened the door to the anxious face of Elrond's Seneschal.
"What is it, Glorfindel?" Erestor asked, trying with incredible effort to rein in his temper. The Elda was the most annoying individual Erestor had ever met; Glorfindel was determined to disturb him at every inopportune moment.
"Why, Erestor, it is so nice to see you, too." Glorfindel's sarcasm, Erestor thought, was the *last* thing he wished to deal with at this late hour.
"If you have only come to harass me, Lord Seneschal, then I must ask you to excuse me. I was in the middle of something when you knocked." Erestor stepped back, swinging the door shut, but was stopped when Glorfindel's heavy boot lodged itself between the door and the frame.
Glorfindel's blue eyes flared dangerously in the low light of the hall and Erestor resigned himself to having at least a short conversation with his fellow lord. "If you wish to speak, Glorfindel, then do so. I have little patience this night and you are quickly rending me of what I did have."
"It's nice to know that you are your cheerful self no matter what the time or place may be," Glorfindel quipped. "Lord Elrond asked me to tell you Lady Arwen and Lady Celebrian will return tomorrow morning with Lord Celeborn."
Erestor let out an exasperated hiss. "His rooms aren't even properly aired." He would have to be up before the first light of morning if he was to prepare for Lord Celeborn. "Very well. Thank you for the message. It seems I should retire soon."
Glorfindel nodded, bowing slightly. "Maer fuin." The Elda turned from Erestor's intense gaze and walked down the hall and out of the Noldo's sight.
Erestor closed the door softly, thinking to himself. Celeborn. It had been a many years since had last seen his Lady's father. A smirk crossed Erestor's lips. He was sure Celeborn would seek him out upon his arrival; the Councilor would only be too happy to oblige.
He passed through the main antechamber in his suite and emerged into the large, opulent bedchamber within. His eyes swept over the room, taking note of the furniture and tapestries, the books and sculptures. Erestor had spent many, many years collecting his numerous possessions. Elrond sometimes teased his friend that they would soon have to designate a whole wing to the Councilor's hobbies and collections.
Erestor let his robe fall from his slender shoulders and he draped it over one of several chairs in the room. Lindir had once asked him why he had the furniture he did: a massive solid wood four poster bed, a sturdy table, quite a few chairs of varying height and design, among many other pieces. His answer had made the poor minstrel blush.
The Noldo leaned over to one of the side tables and retrieved his half-finished glass of wine and his riding crop. Walking across the room to the low table, Erestor sipped thoughtfully. Lindir was beautiful; the young Elf's long, almost white hair had been a source of fascination for Erestor. Chuckling, he remembered it was that same trait that had drawn the Elf-lord into Celeborn's bed.
He put his glass down then ran a hand over his bare chest, his eyes going dark with lust. Lindir, Celeborn... Glorfindel. The Elda was a constant source of irritation and desire for Erestor. He longed to possess the golden Lord, but Glorfindel was too proud, too vain to share Erestor's bed. But, Erestor could fantasize. Closing his eyes, he ran his hand further down his body and lightly traced the bulge in his sleeping trousers. Yes, what he wouldn't give to have Glorfindel to himself for a few short hours...
Erestor opened his eyes and took in the sight before him. Lindir lay belly down on the table, his legs spread wide and bound to the legs at the foot of the table. The young Silvan Elf was gagged and his arms were stretched out and bound to the legs at the table's head. The pale skin of the minstrel's back, buttocks, and thighs was crisscrossed with red welts and dark bruises. Erestor knelt before the flushed, tear-stained face and smiled darkly.
"Good boy," he soothed, smoothing the mussed hair. "Not a sound. I am impressed." Erestor's voice was low and even, almost comforting if not for the position Lindir found himself in. The Councilor stood and walked to stand behind and just to the left of the bound Elf. "Now," he said, raising the crop. "Where were we?"
TBC...