Of Pleasure and Peril

Of Pleasure and Peril
Chapter One
by Tasmia Gaylord
Rating: Hard NC 17
Warning: graphic S&M type situations but not too harsh, explicit sex
Disclaimer:The Tolkein characters are borrowed for private use in this story, I do not claim to own them and have no intentions of profiting from them
Summary: King Thranduil meets his match in his private punishment chamber with amazing consequences for all parties involved
Pairings: Thranduil/OFC , Legolas/OFC Elrond/OFC Haldir/OFC and perhaps some others, who knows?
Feedback: Post it here or you can send me an email "Tasmia7@yahoo.com"

Thranduil stood over the trembling young elleth who was prostrate before him on the fur-covered pillows strewn about the punishment chamber floor. His silken robe was tied loosely at the waist with a golden, tasseled cord and, as he held the gaze of the frightened elleth, he slowly loosened it all the way and allowed the robe to fall open naturally, revealing his full naked torso. Instead of burying her head in the pillows, as most of his victims were wont to do at this point in the evenings festivities, she kept her gaze fixed on his eyes, never wavering, and did not seem to notice his state of undress. There was something in her gaze that tickled at the back of his mind as a buzzing fly sometimes will, but not as an annoyance, more like a memory, or...what, what was it he saw there? Thranduil shook his head as if to clear it of cobwebs setting his golden mane to shimmer as it whipped about his chiseled features. He looked over into the far corner where his nemesis sat bound and gagged in the his seat of dishonor and smiled broadly, showing all his gleaming white teeth in a mocking wolfish grin.

Thranduil then swaggered over to where his foe sat in helpless fury. He stood with legs spread and hands at his hips and laughed at the miserable traitor who sat tied and gagged as witness to the degredation of his only daughter.

"You have been warned, Arthame, many, many times that your sly behavior would lead me to taking this most drastic, but exceedingly pleasurable, action that I am about to perform on your delectable elfling. Do you see what I have in store for her?" His erect member stood proud and tight against his flat belly, a potential instrument of torture for the uninitiated younger elleths who fell into this trap through the deceit oaitoaitorous behaviours of their kin. Thranduil's punishment chamber was a well-known secret among the Mirkwood population and none desired to visit there. There was only one crime in Mirkwood but there were numerous and various punishments depending on the criminal, and other circumstances. "You thought to pilfer from my collection of mithril artifacts, after I most faithfully named you Treasurer, and for what purpose?" He spat out the last word as if it were a foul nut meat that he had put in his mouth by mistake.

The Treasurer turned thief struggled in vain against the leather straps which held him bound at the wrist, chest, and knees to the wrought iron chair. The veins in his forehead stood out as did the cords of his neck as he thrashed in helpless fury against the tight bonds. Strangled, furious noises were all his gagged lips could offer in reply. Thranduil held his erect member and slowly fisted it as it grew ever more engorged and lethal in appearance while staring directly inte eye eyes of the dishonored elf before him. "Tol acharm," he promised, vengeance comes. Then he whirled and slowly approached his delicious prey.

Tulare had turned her back to the spectacle of her father being taunted by their Elf Lord and the small wisp of transparent cloth which covered her had ridden up on her thighs and left exposed the creamy skin of her left bottom cheek. Thranduil knelt down beside the elleth and clamped his hand firmly on the globe of flesh so pertly revealed and then raised his hand several inches above her bottom and brought it down swiftly again in a series of fresh, hot slaps and then clamped it again to the reddened flesh and turned her towards him. "Never," he hissed, "turn your back on me, never!' He was once again captivated by her cool green gaze as she turned quickly to face him in obedience to his command. There was no fear in them at all, he noticed, but there was...something...there that did not entirely displease him but, nonetheless, slightly perturbed him for all of its mystery.

But he did not linger long on her heart shaped face, or disturbing stare, for his purpose was not lustful but veangeful and he was performing for an audience of one. He looked over to Arthame, now sitting rather still in his bondage, and called out, "How did an orcish creature such as yourself spawn such a glorious little morsel of flesh?" As Thranduil watched the captive father's face once again begin to writhe with fury he slowly let his hand caress the satiny skin of the trembling young she-elf, up her thigh, over her belly and, finally, to a soft, pink-tipped breast. Tulare let out a soft, panting sigh as he gripped the tender nipple between thumb and forefinger and gently tugged upward. It grew instantly taut beneath his touch and he was momentarily distracted as he felt the tiny, soft nubbin of flesh harden with excitement. He drew his attention away from her father and back to her delectable treasures laid out in splendor before him.

Hein win was pale and ivory-toned, as most of the underground dwelling elves complexions were, but in the fire and candlelight of the dungeon it seemed to glow with an inner candesence. He had had his way with many, oh many, an elleth in this chamber, or in his own sleeping rooms above, but he could not recall ever feeling skin of thistureture or with the sheen of such touchable perfection in all his previous encounters. He moved his hand to her other breast and cupped it as if weighing it, letting it bounce naturally in his palm, before trailing his forefinger across the base and up and over the rapidly tightening nipple. He flicked the tender peak with his fingertip as her body sinuously writhed in apparent pleasure and more panting gasping sighs emitted from her soft, pink lips. Thranduil was captivated by her glance once again as her eyes seemed to darken and deepen and draw him further and further within as he caressed her. Curious, he let his hand slide down her body and over her belly and finally tuck itself between her creamy thighs. Her legs parted as his fingers explored her there and her eyes pulled him deeper and deeper within as the lids widened reflecting her pleasure at his touch.

He was surprised to find the golden, downy pubic hair slick with her wetness and as his fingers parted and spread the nether lips he could feel the heat as her swollen labes seemed to throb and pulse beneath his touch. She arched her back when he tugged at the little pink nub which peeked out from beneath its soft sheath in full arousal. A long slow shuddering groan of pleasure came from the trembling elleth as he dipped his fingers lower, and then, within her, and her pelvis rose from the pillows as if to assist with her penetration. A guttural growl from the far corner brought Thranduil back from his exploration and he seemed to flinch for an instant as he realized the elleth was enjoying this journey of his hand upon her willing flesh and that was not in his plans at all!

Quickly he withdrew his buried fingers andppedpped her thigh to turn her lower back away from him while he slapped her bottom cheeks until they darkened from light pink to a deep rosy hue and her small body jerked at each smarting blow, "This night is not for your pleasure, my sweet, and I will not have you thwart me in fulfilling my desire to have you suffer for your father's sweet torment!" he growled through tightly clenched teeth as he roughly turned her belly up again and spread her legs as far as they would easily open. He strode over to a table against the near wall and picked up a thin, black leather strap about the length of his forearm and drew it up and then swiftly down on his palm to demonstrate the "crack" of pain attendant to its descent. "The pleasure will be all mine, all mine..." he was kneeling before her again, holding the strap in his fist, "...now hold your legs apart, like this." He placed her hands on the inside of her own thighs and pushed them even farther apart, revealing the puffy slickened lips which seem to pout as they peeked out from the glossy wettened hair of her mound. "Now," he whispered hoarsely, his voice thick with desire, "hold very still." He raised the strap...